Glad your enjoying it Antonine and hope you continue too, people liking my work helps a ton on the motivation front For now onto the next chapter and the final Sith trial... Chapter Nine - The Final Trial: Gaining a Lightsaber Aindri was up early the next morning, finding her way to a high perch away from the rest of the Academy and sat there, basking in the glow of the rising sun. Crossing her legs, she closed her eyes and began to meditate. If she was going to be facing her final trial, like she expected, she would need to be ready. Her wounds from her time in Tulak Hord’s tomb had already healed, her natural abilities accelerating the process, but now she needed to prepare mentally. Centring herself in the Force, she coalesced her emotions into a single point, stretching her senses as far as they would reach. Feeling the Academy stir below her, she opened her eyes as she knew the time for her final trial was drawing near. Her eyes briefly glowed a bright yellow before fading back to their normal stormy grey. She was calm, her emotions were within easy reach, she was focused. She was ready. * “You both stand on the precipice of becoming Sith, but only one of you will have the opportunity to claim a special lightsaber and serve as my apprentice.” Aindri and Vemrin stood side by side in Baras’s chambers their Force signatures in complete odds with one another. Vemrin was rage simmering below the surface, threatening to blow the moment someone looked at him the wrong way. In comparison Aindri was cool and calm, but there was a deadly intent which made acolytes view her with a level of wariness as she passed them on her way to Baras’s chambers. Baras’s gaze switched back and forth between the two acolytes “I thought it would be you Vemrin, but I’ve changed my mind.” Aindri took in the words with a feeling of satisfaction and cold understanding. She could feel the rage building within her rival and she could feel him shaking in anger. She knew in that moment; the next time they meet each other it would be a fight to death. She looked forward to the moment. “What?!” Vemrin exploded, forgoing all respect and shedding his dignity, his emotion saturating the air as he railed against Baras, “I’ve done everything you’ve asked! Better than any of the others! The honour should be mine!” “The Force is stronger with you Hallow and a power sleeping within you. It was, in the end, a simple decision to make. Now Vemrin,” Baras commanded, his tone brooking no argument, “Go wait in my antechamber for your instructions,” Almost snarling when he didn’t move, “This instant.” Vemrin stormed from Baras’s chambers seething the air simmering with his fury. Once Vemrin was gone Baras shifted his attention back to Aindri and considered her carefully, wondering briefly how he had overlooked an acolyte of such promise. The speed with which she completed her trials was unprecedented, her success much to do with her power, raw as it was, rather than Tremel’s machinations. She had much untapped potential and he would have to be careful how he handled her. “I hope you fathom fortunate you are to be singled out,” He intoned, “If you become my apprentice, the galaxy will bend before you. Now, the lightsaber you seek is ancient and powerful.” Aindri took a moment to revel in her excitement before squashing it complete. After waiting for so many years, she would final gain a real lightsaber. A symbol of the Order almost as old as the Order itself, something which both inspires and terrifies. And finally, one would be hers. “It is hidden in a chamber in the Tomb of Naga Sadow. Almost no one knows how to find its entrance, but there is a Twi’lek in the holding pens who was caught breaking in there. I hear she is quite willful. Take her and make her open the chamber. Claim the weapon and return to me. Succeed and you will become my apprentice. Fail and you will die.” Aindri bowed her head and left Baras’s chamber, briefly recalling the spirited blue Twi’lek she’d last seen verbally sparring with Knash. It seemed their futures were linked and she’d a feeling it would continue past Korriban, the Force drawing them to each other. Walking through the jails, Aindri could already hear Knash and the Twi’lek, who were once again engaged in a bout of verbal sparring and she couldn’t help thinking some things never changed. It had quickly become a topic of gossip around the Academy about a suicidal Twi’lek who mouthed off to any Sith or imperial trooper passing her by. Both prisoner and jailer seemed to enjoy engaging and riling each other up, though as the Twi’lek yelped in pain Aindri doubt she enjoyed Knash’s liberal use of the shock collar. “Ouch! Give it a rest, will you?” Shouted the Twi’lek as she came to door and she was once again impressed by the Twi’lek’s fortitude despite her situation. Knash had his back to her but she could easily feel the sadistic glee as he once again pressed down on the shock collars remote. “Keep pushing me slave, I can do this all day.” As if to emphasise his point the collar crackled to life delivered a particularly nasty shock causing the Twi’lek to cry out in pain. “No, you cannot.” Aindri interrupted, startling the jailor who jumped, turning to find her leaning casually against the doorway, “I need her functional.” “Ah, as if on cue, look whose back.” He stumbled, glancing at her nervously on taking in the steely look in her eyes. She had an edge to her that hadn’t been there during her previous visit and her presence in the Force radiated a subtle but dangerous power, which also hadn’t been there the last time. At least none he could sense. What’s worse was he couldn’t sure whether it was directed at him or someone, something, else. “So, I hear you’ll be relieving me of this Twi’lek,” She nodded, “Good. She’s been a right pain in the neck.” “Who’s a pain in the neck?” The Twi’lek demanded, sitting up and making a face at Knash, “I’m the one wearing the shock collar,” Tugging at the collar to emphasise her point. “Hrmph. Consider that a going away present, Twi’lek,” Knash smirked, “Seems your useful afterall, this bruiser will be taking you back were we caught you.” Knash fiddled with the buttons of remote for the shock collar, hesitating only slightly before placing it in her open palm, looking at it longingly like a child who finally gave up their favourite childhood toy, “Here. Got it set to a high level. Use it often enough and she’ll show you the back door to her mothers’ house.” Remote in hand, she looked down at the Twi’lek catching the fiery gaze in her violet eyes, staring intently back into hers before standing and dusting her trousers off. “Hey,” The Twi’lek smiled, giving her a little wave, Aindri arching an eyebrow in response, “So none of you still can’t figure out how to activate the tomb statues to open the forbidden cavern, huh?” She asked smugly, placing her hands on her hips and Knash pressed down, only to remember he had given the remote away. She was new, an unknown compared to Knash, who the Twi’lek knew far she could push. So, she was watching, testing the waters and waiting for her reaction. Aindri stepped up to the cell, regarding the young woman, “Follow me and my instructions and no harm will come to you. Don’t…” Aindri let the sentence hang, thumb hovering over the remote and the Twi’lek’s eyes flitted to it before nodding. “Right. Guess I’m playing tomb tour guide. A lot of working went into cracking that nut. But I did it once, I can do it again.” “Good.” Aindri nodded to Knash, standing aside to allow him to deactivate the shield and the Twi’lek stepped out of the cell, rolling her shoulders and stretching her cramped limbs. “Lead the way. Onto Sith business.” The Twi’lek declared, brushing past Knash and giving him a mock menacing look. Knash growled back at her and Aindri chuckled lowly at actions of the bouncing bundle of sliver tongued energy Twi’lek as they exited the jails. The galaxy had quite the sense of humour, pairing the two of them together. A Sith apprentice and a former thief turned slave in an empire that strongly disliked any alien species. They made a strange pair and many acolytes stared at them, as she led them through the academies winding corridors. Vette was thankful that at least the Sith she’d been handed of too was a woman. She didn’t want to think what would happen if they were a guy and she’d heard enough lewd remarks in the jails from people who wanted a taste of Twi’lek. So given her treatment so far, she was definitely surprised when the Sith she’d been handed over to got her a blaster. “I still don’t see why you’re bothering to outfit a slave.” The Quartermaster grumbled, shaking his head before disappearing into the back room, Vette glancing around curiously. She hadn’t been in this part of the academy before, but then she hadn’t been out of the jails before. He returned with a blaster and a belt. Taking them from the Quartermaster, who disappeared back into the depths of the room, the Sith gave them a once over before holding them out to Vette who stared at them warily. Getting into the tomb the first time had been a nightmare and when she’d been told, well order, to help the Sith she hadn’t been happy with idea of going back into it weaponless. But never in her wildest dream had she thought the Sith would actually give her weapons. So, she was still a bit in denial about being armed – don’t get her wrong it was very appealing – worried she’d wake up and still be in the cell and this had all been a dream. The Sith arched an eyebrow when Vette shook her head, realising she’d been staring at the blaster for a while, “You’re seriously giving it to me? Aren’t you worried I’ll just shoot you in the back?” “It would be illogical for you to do so,” The Sith replied and Vette had to admit she had a point, “I can’t defend both of us at the same time. I’m good, but not that good.” Vette was surprised by the Sith’s humility, she just assumed all Sith were over arrogant pric.ks. Then again all her of interactions with Sith in general so far had more than reinforced the belief. This Sith though had been nothing but honest with her and was surprisingly mellow. But if anything, that only made Vette warier since it was always quiet ones you had to watch out for. Though Vette supposed the Sith wouldn’t be giving her a weapon if she weren’t confident she could easily crush her. And given the snippets of whispered conversations Vette had caught as they passed through the Academy had only reinforced that if she rebelled this one definitely could. She finally relented and took the blaster, checking it over. She was sure they’d be fine but getting into the habit of checking her own equipment had saved her life on numerous occasions. Slotting them into the holster on the belt, she held her arms out and gave her a ‘what do you think’ look. The Sith nodded in approval and walked from the room leaving Vette to catch up with her. “You’re weird. You know, that right?” Aindri glanced at the Twi’lek who had run up to walk besides her before turning her attention back to the hallway. “I am not a stereotypical Sith.” She shrugged and the Twi’lek grinned. “Oh, trust me I’m not complaining,” Especially if it meant she wouldn’t become beast food, not that Vette would admit the thought out loud. It was when they reached the stairs that the Sith asked her name. “Name?” Vette echoed, still not quite able to comprehend a Sith treating her like a sentient being. “Unless you wish me to keep calling you Twi’lek?” She asked back and Vette frowned. She just couldn’t figure this Sith out and she didn’t know whether that was a good or a bad thing. The one thing Vette did know was that she had a different feeling about her as for some weird reason the Sith instilled a kind of confidence in her. That as well as the fact that when the Sith looked at her, she looked past her species and her position as a thief turned slave. “Suppose not,” Vette paused finally conceding after a moment of internal debate and settling on her core name, “Its Vette,” “Pleasure.” The Sith replied before she resumed walking. “Wait what’s your name?” Vette asked as she hurried after the Sith, who despite being a similar height still walked faster than her. Though Vette supposed unlike her, the Sith hadn’t been languishing in the jails all this time. “My lord.” The Sith called over her shoulder. Vette stopped, not really able to tell whether she was serious or not but as the Sith continued walking, Vette decided – for safety reasons – she was being serious and hurried after her. “Okay.” She murmured unsurely but then cracked a grin. Oh yes, now this was more Sithy, she just hadn’t expected a Sith like this. * “Stay close.” Aindri growled as she disarmed and beheaded the offending acolyte who’d jumped them from the shadows. Vette nodded, and they plunged further into the maze of expansive and sprawling network of corridors, chambers and antechambers that was the Tomb of Naga Sadow. It was a maze that somebody could easily get lost in, a prospect which she didn’t enjoy in the slightest. Ever since the Empires return to Korriban decades ago, countless acolytes had fought and perished within this tomb, death and decay clung to the walls and filled their nostrils. The further they travelled, the more the living was replaced with the dead. Vette shivered, this tomb was just like she’d left it, dark and ultra-creepy. Her shiver turned more violent as she stepped over a corpse of one of the acolytes they’d defeated. “Nervous?” Vette gave the Sith a look. Of course she was nervous, she had every right to be nervous! They’d only just entered, and they’d already been attacked by two groups of acolytes. It was enough to make anyone jumpy and the Twi'lek had no idea how the Sith was still so calm. Aindri caught the look and raised an eyebrow at Vette, but for her part she was grateful that she had armed the Twi’lek. Despite Vette’s running comedic diatribe, sarcasm making a common appearance, she was an excellent shot and a reliable fighter. Also in this dark place with its ominous atmosphere and the dark side seductively caressing her skin, she found the Twi’lek’s flippancy helped to keep her grounded. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she looked to Vette who pointed to a statue in the far corner of the room. Nodding, Aindri moved to protect Vette’s back as she fiddled with the statue and she could hear a subtle grating noise as Vette pressed against a protruding bit of stone. Hopping down from the ledge she was standing on, Vette gave her a quick thumbs’ up and they continued their journey. Moving silently among the shadows they worked in tandem, Aindri acting as the vanguard whilst Vette laid down suppression fire on acolytes and droids from slightly further afield. Protecting her back whilst she hit the hidden switches throughout the tomb Aindri was impressed by the Twi’lek’s observational and problem-solving skills. Fighting through groups of competing acolytes and archaic, but fully functional, guard droids they eventually came into a large circular chamber, two large stone statues prostrating themselves as they faced the room. Aindri knew this was the right chamber when she spotted Vette’s massive grin out of the corner of her eye, the Twi’lek near skipping towards the statues. She could sense the happiness in her signature at the prospect of soon being able to leave the cold tomb and the stench of rot. “Give me a minute,” Vette asked. It had been a while since she’d been in the tomb and she needed to orientate herself. The quicker she did the quicker she could open the chamber because Vette seriously wanted to get of there, she hated coming the first time. If wasn’t for needing cash, she’d avoided Korriban, let alone the tombs like the plague. Vette moved away from her, and Aindri watched as she wandered peering about the chamber. She tried to follow whatever the Twi’lek was looking at, but she didn’t really have any idea what she was doing. It was then she felt it, an almost imperceptible shift in the Force. Time slowed, and the Force stilled, everything – her trial, the chamber, Vette – growing distant. A single drop hit, ripples of pure hatred and rage crashing against her. Time accelerated, and she pivoted, lashing out with her heel in a roundhouse kick. Vemrin grunted as her foot slammed into his chest sending him tumbling backwards at the force of her kick. “Take your time, slave,” Vemrin spat at Vette, who’d turned to see the commotion, as he stood, “Just have the entrance uncovered by the time I finish killing your new master.” “Vemrin,” Aindri drawled, lips curling up in a predatory smirk, “I was waiting for you,” She’d been expecting him to attack from behind like a coward and she wasn’t disappointed. For all his attempts to be sneaky and at deception, Vemrin was remarkably predictable. “Becoming Baras’s apprentice is my destiny,” He snarled unhooking his warblade and activating its vibromotor in a single motion, “And I have worked too hard and for too long to see the position stolen from me!” Vette watched the exchange and wondered who to throw her credits in with. Glancing back and forth between the two it didn’t take her long to decide. The Sith may be, well Sith, but she hadn’t shocked her once since they’d left cells, and there was something about her she just liked. At least Vette didn’t have to worry about this Sith leaving her behind to die in the tomb like the other guy, who was absolutely fuming, would. Besides even if she split and ran all the way to Dreshdae, she’d never make it off Korriban on her own, let alone alive. It was that thought which sealed the deal. Aindri heard a slight rasp which she recognised as Vette removing her blaster from its’ holster and she held up a hand to stop her. “Do not interfere Vette.” She instructed, drawing her own blade, “Concentrate on unlocking the entrance.” Vette nodded in understanding as she didn’t need to be Force sensitive to recognise that this fight was personal. So instead she turned and continued to feel the back wall for the mechanism which would open the chamber entrance. She was checking behind one of the statues when the sound of clashing blades started echoing behind her. Aindri danced to the side as Vemrin leaped towards her sending sparks into the air as his bladed skidded across stone. Despite Vemrin’s advantage in brute strength as he battered against her defences, she met him blow for blow, neither gaining the upper hand. Her rival clearly possessed strength, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived long as he had, but facing him now she wasn’t impressed. Drawing on her emotions to fuel her strength, Aindri locked blades with Vemrin, launching her wrist in a counter movement, building momentum. At the last second, she tightened her grip, creating an unbreakable barrier. Meeting an iron hard defence, the force from blow was directed back at Vemrin who staggered backwards. Calling on the Force, she allowed the dark side to fill her and her eyes glowed a red-rimmed yellow as her power swelled. It was now her turn. Pressing the advantage, Aindri unleashed a series of lightning fast blows penetrating his guard and forcing Vemrin back as he tried to defend against the flurry of attacks. Tripping over a loose stone he fell to the ground and attempted to scramble to his feet only to find himself being held in an invisible vice like grip and lifted high into the air. Vemrin dropped his warblade with a shout as Aindri used Force to crush his wrist and she could see the hatred and terror in his eyes when he looked at her raised hand. Swiping her hand downwards she brought Vemrin slamming down into ground and listened with satisfaction as the sound of his bones breaking echoed audible throughout the chamber. Approaching the broken body of her self-declared rival she stared down at him with complete apathy. Vemrin rolled onto his back and coughed, blood running from his lips. Gone was the anger, hatred and insecurity that had plagued him when they first met, replaced with only pain. She could feel the fight leave him fight and she raised her blade as he coughed up more blood staring up at her vacantly. “I’ve sacrificed so much, only to fail?” He rasped, and she brought her blade down into his heart, ending his life. Vette had found the switches just in time to see the Sith go on the offensive and just stare as the temperature dropped several degrees, which she hadn’t even thought was possible. Even if the Sith had instructed her too not interfere, Vette didn’t she’d even be able to move let alone help. The sheer power, the Sith demonstrated through throwing Vemrin around like he was a rag doll made her scared of the young woman all over again. That was not what truly terrified her though. Yes, she had seen the Sith kill and yes Vemrin kind of deserved it – she still rankled over him calling her slave – but it was the brutality with each she ended his life. In that moment as she emotionlessly watched his torment, she wasn’t the Sith or the young woman. She was a monster. “Vette,” Aindri called her eyes returning to their natural hue, “The entrance.” She said gently, knowing the Twi’lek was terrified of her at that moment and held her gaze to show Vette she wouldn’t hurt her. “Already found it,” Vette responded quickly before offering an uncertain, “Um, nice work, my lord.” Nodding, she removed her warblade from Vemrin’s corpse clipping it to her belt as Vette ran her hands over the wall and pressed the correct switches. Stepping back Vette returned to her side as a low rumble reverberated throughout the chamber, two statues rotating in sync to face the other. They slid backwards, the wall they’d been standing against parting in sections along seams expertly crafted to be invisible to the naked eye. Some shifted sideways into the wall, others rose into the crumbling ceiling, the remainder sinking into the floor, revealing a hidden chamber. They stared into the darkness, flames flickering to life by some hidden mechanism along the wall, chasing shadows into the high vaulted ceiling. “Well,” Vette began, scratching the back of her head before turning to her and making jazz hands, “Ta da?” Aindri gave a small smile, “Good work.” “Nice to be appreciated. Umm, can I keep watch?” Aindri thought for a moment before conceding to Vette’s request, she would be able to help regardless. She entered the chamber, its stone floor covered in a fine layer of dust, the dark side flowing like a river around her feet. Rows of small statues, their heads bowed in supplication lined either side of the room, a battalion of slaves and soldiers taken to the grave. At the far end, a stone sarcophagus inlaid with electrum scrollwork in ancient arcane Sith tongue on a landing atop a flight of stairs. She ascended the steps, the dark side pouring out of the sarcophagus to saturate the air, a myriad of whispers making dark indistinct promises tickled her ear. She could feel something, an almost hypnotic pull, calling to her through the Force and whatever it was, was inside here. Giving the lid a gently shove with the Force it grated against the stone and fell to the floor with a thud revealing a grandly adorned skeleton, armour carved in ancient Sith style with exquisite craftmanship, a pureblood judging from the bone structure. Holding out her hand, Aindri reached out with the Force and waited for whatever was calling to her to come to her. She didn’t have to wait long as something rattled inside sarcophagus and a cylindrical object rose into the air, beautiful in its simplicity. A lightsaber. The weapon flew into her hands, her fingers beginning to curl around cool silver metal, the hilt at home in her hand, beauty in its elegance. The moment it hit her flesh, images crashed into her and she was assaulted with rapidly passing visions of what she did not know and could little but watch. A forbidding structure in dense jungle, man in officers’ uniform, a light version of herself, glittering snow-capped peaks, a young Jedi wielding a green lightsaber, a brilliant but disobedient solider, a republic ship, a station drawing energy from a star and the masked man commanding it, a Moff, a starship graveyard. A toxic planet where betrayal awaits, a prison planet, a world at war with itself, a Core invasion, a throne room where a usurper stands. A crystal filled cavern. The myriad of images fading from her mind’s eye and her memory as quickly as they had appeared, Aindri blinked and found herself holding the ancient weapon, its weight comforting in her hand. Igniting the saber, the deep red blade hummed softly painting her features in a red glow, leaving trials of crimson light in its wake as she gave it a few experimental swings, marvelling at the ease with which it balanced in her grip. A feral smile touched her lips, exultation thrumming through her veins as she deactivated the blade, her blade, and clipped to her belt. She had succeeded, the prize – a lightsaber, her lightsaber – was hers. She would be Sith at last.

Special occasion in that i'm posting two for one today now that Journey has finally caught up with the old thread. So you guys can look forward to a brand new chapter next time, no more rewrites. Chapter Eight - A New Master Aindri watched the charging acolyte with narrowed eyes. Within a second and a half, she side stepped his charge, grabbed one of his arms, pivoted, jammed her shoulder into his chest, shifted her centre of gravity, and lifted him cleaning off the ground, flipping the acolyte over her head. Another quarter of a second had the acolyte exhaling forcefully, pushing all the air from his lungs as his back slammed into the ground. He attempted to scramble to his feet but fell back to the floor shouting in pain and clutching his nose when she delivered a savage downwards punch. “Acolyte.” Looking up, she saw Tremel standing at the arenas’ edge, his Force signature muddied by carefully hidden anxiety and resentment. “My chambers, now.” Turning on his heel he stalked from the arena obviously expecting her to follow. Tormi, Venitas absent for a trial, met her eyes from her place in front of a practice dummy, shooting her a questioning look. Shrugging in response, she made her excuses to Rance and collected her things, ducking into the gloomy corridor. Jogging along the quiet corridors, Aindri’s mind raced. It had only been a day since she returned from the Wilds so she can’t be having another trial so soon, but to be pulled out of morning training like this…. Something was wrong, and her mind immediately jumped to Baras. The Darth was the only person she could think of currently on Korriban who could elicit such a response from him. Her thoughts were only reinforced when she entered Tremel chambers to find him with his back to her, hands resting on his desk, shoulders slumped. “We must speak quickly, acolyte, there isn’t much time,” He began, pushing himself of the desk and turned to her, dark bags under his eyes and anxiety etched into his features. “I may have made a slight…” He paused searching for the right words, “Miscalculation.” “Miscalculation?” She echoed grimacing, everyone knew Sith who miscalculated often didn’t survive long. “The Beast of Marka Ragnos was a great source of dark energy here on Korriban," Tremel explained with a heavy sigh, "When it was slain, there was a tremor in the Force and Darth Baras felt that tremor and is now aware of you.” Which Aindri knew meant only one thing, “He demands my presence.” Tremel nodded, a hint of caution in his voice, “Baras is a serious man but a master of deception. Everything he does and says is calculated,” Tremel looked her directly in the eyes and held her gaze, “He will attempt to trip you up, test your true nature and get to the heart of who you are.” “Thank you, Overseer.” “We might not speak again acolyte, but you’re the best chance of stopping Vemrin. If you fail I doubt there will be another strong enough,” Shaking his head he regarded her with a sad smile, “Meet Darth Baras in his chambers and hurry he won’t take kindly to waiting. Good luck.” Inclining her head, Aindri turned swiftly on her heel heading for the Rancors’ den. * Darth Baras’s chambers, were both larger and more ornate than Tremels, much like the man himself. Slightly taller than her, Baras was – for lack of a better word – fat, dressed in flowing pale blue robes with long pointed shoulder plates, which didn’t do much to hide rotund his figure. His heavy ornate mask, blank and expressionless, underscored Tremel’s point about being a master of deception, rendering it unnecessary for him to have to school his facial features. She couldn’t even see his eyes, those which often revealed a persons’ thoughts. The Force clung to him like a shroud, bathing him in darkness and secrecy. Aindri leaned against the wall as Baras gave what she presumed was meant to be an inspirational/threatening speech to a group of acolytes standing in a loose semi-circle, Vemrin standing off to the right, deadly intent masked by boredom. Boredom directed at the other acolytes, which she understood just by giving them a brief glance, and deadly intent directed at the trial itself. “Most of you will not return from this endeavour. If you die, you will be forgotten. If you give up, you will be killed. Now, out of my sight.” It was certainly motivational as most of the acolytes hurriedly left the room, Vemrin following behind them, talking with another acolyte wearing a gold chest plate. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” The other acolyte confessed. Vemrin snorted “You should. This is the end of the line for you Klemral, just make sure you stay out of my way.” Klemral glanced at her curiously and then smirked at Vemrin, “Look here Vemrin, I see the upstart and Dolgis didn’t return yesterday.” Vemrin glared at her and growled, his anger deep enough to ripple outwards through the Force. She gave him a smirk in return. Baras stood and regarded them coolly “Klemral, Vemrin you have been dismissed.” Klemral bowed jerkily before hurrying from the room, eager to escape the tension building between them between her and Vemrin. Vermin narrowed his eyes, giving her one last hard glare before following Baras’s instructions and storming out of his chambers. The subtle smile fell from her face as Aindri schooled her features into neutrality, pushing off from the doorway. She walked forward and bowed before adopting a relaxed military stance she learnt when attending the military academy in New Adasta. “You called for me, my lord.” “Yes,” Darth Baras mused, his eyes skating over her form, lingering on the small cut on her cheek from where a shard of stone had sliced her skin during her fight with Marka Ragnos’s beast. “Are you having trouble with Acolyte Vemrin, supplicant?” He asked, tone lighter than what he used when addressing his group of acolytes. “No, my lord, but he may have trouble with me.” Now Dolgis was out of the way, Vemrin was down one less groupie and she had slain the Beast of Marka Ragnos, news which had spread throughout the Academy like lightning. Everyone knew of their rivalry and as a result Vermin was running out of allies. Their next encounter, Vemrin would have to contend with her himself. “He has been hardened into a lethal machine,” Baras declared fixing her with what she assumed was a stern gaze, which instead echoed through his voice, the Force shifting and expanding slightly around him, “Vemrin has paid his dues. Fought a deck stacked against him to get here. You, on the other hand…” Baras paused observing the acolyte before him. He knew of her heritage, how the Hallow Clan could trace back their line to before the Great Hyperspace War. Her father, Darth Canis, the clan patriarch was well known amongst Sith circles for his ruthlessness and cruelty. But apart from this, his network could find little information on her, from her early childhood, to her time before arriving at the Academy. Showing little Force sensitivity, she had been placed in New Adasta’s military academy, in hope she would earn a high rank in the Imperial Military to make-up her lack of sensitivity, before an incident occurred. Its’ nature was shrouded in mystery – only known a member of the main family died – much like its aftermath and her subsequent disappearance, only for her to return, strong in the Force, when her family selected those who would attend the Academy. Even then she was supposed to be arriving in a years’ time, so he had little idea the extent of this upstarts training. “You on the other hand…” Aindri could almost feel him prodding her through the Force and she had to resist the urge to push back, to force him out. Instead she submitted herself to his ministrations, pushing everything that which could be determined as a weakness to be exploited to the back of her mind, locking it all behind an iron wall he wouldn’t be able to pierce. Silence followed as Baras chewed over whatever he had perceived in his mind, “Overseer Tremel has done you, and this Academy, a great disservice.” Aindri was silent as Baras paced in front of her, him letting his discontent roil in the Force as he spoke, emphasising certain words to further voice his displeasure. “Your warblade came early. Prisoners flown in for your convenience, even a beast here on Korriban instead of offworld in the wild. The pacing of the trials is deliberate and only full immersion over time produces results. Your mind is soft, unhoned,” Baras growled, “Undisciplined.” She had been immersed, for most of her teenage life in fact – her uncle had seen to it, even if her mother and father did not. But Aindri held her tongue. Tremel’s assessment and Baras’s own presence in the Force in mind, he was likely watching her to see how she would react. To his displeasure, to the implications she was subpar, beneath notice. Unworthy. “It is offensive,” He continued, “To be presented with an acolyte who doesn’t even have an elementary understanding of what it means to be Sith. The first month of trials should be dedicated to philosophy, conceptual tactics,” Demanding, “Do you even know of the code?” “Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Conflict is a source of progress, a lack of it stagnation. Unlike the Jedi we do not forgo conflict, nor do we ignore our passion. Sith fully embrace both and use it to fuel our strength.” Baras stopped pacing and watched her with interest, it seemed this acolyte was much more prepared than he had expected. “Through passion, I gain strength. Passion is what keeps all creatures alive. By denying passion, Jedi deny their true nature. Mastery over our passions is what gives Sith a strength the Jedi lack.” “Through strength, I gain power. Only those who have both the physical and mental strength necessary to overcome the challenges they face will gain true power. It is through this a Sith will achieve their true potential.” Her uncle was the same. He would accept neither apologies or excuses, only that she would stand up and face a challenge, whether head-on or through deception, and she would become stronger for it. It was the same with actions. Violence should never be committed for purely violence sake. Always with purpose, always with motive. Such as victory. “Through power, I gain victory. A Sith must fight for very victory, achieve it through demonstrating their power is superior over their opponents. Through victory, my chains are broken.” One of the most debated lines, Aindri could certainly remember arguing with her uncle, and later Tormi and Venitas for hours on end over the meaning. “Removing ones’ restrictions, whether placed by someone else or self-imposed, to achieve perfection and fulfil their potential. Perfection is a goal to be worked towards rather than a state of being.” Personally, she found that throwing off ones’ chains often lead to being shackled by new ones, seeking perfection often driving people to madness. “The Force shall set me free,” The Codes’ final line and Tormi’s favourite, “Only those who seek perfection through pursuing knowledge and mastery of the Force are rewarded. Follow the code, and a Sith becomes free of restrictions, physical or immaterial.” Baras had remained silent as she talked but she could feel his surprise through the Force, though he quickly buried it. Aindri had compromised, giving enough to show she understood the Code but not knowledge nor gritty detail of its application in combat and politics. “Most impressive acolyte. Your ability is undeniable, even as you still remain lacking.” She read his body language and his tone. One needn’t have the Force to know Baras was planning something, mind whirring with possible machinations. Sith politics, she reminded herself, was a game within which numerous games were played with many pieces being moved around a single dejarikboard. “I am your master now, Tremel was becoming lax before you ever arrived and his unwillingness to adapt to the evolving Sith paradigm has become a liability. These are the actions of a traitor and traitors, are executed.” “And what of punishment?” She asked steadily. Killing an Overseer would be a sure way to get her executed. One might believe her if she told the death was ordered by a Darth, but none would lift a finger to do anything to the acts’ mastermind. It was a simple and easy way for Baras to be rid of both her and Tremel, hence her question. “I grant you immunity. Now go and do not return until you’ve killed him. Bring me back his hand as proof.” Bowing her head in acquiescence she strode from the room, starting for Tremel’s chambers for the final time, not entirely comfortable with the idea of the overseer’s blood on her hands. Betrayal never sat right with her. Aindri snorted, for Sith betrayal was as common occurrence as the rising sun and setting moon. Her immediate family, her father, mother, brothers and sisters, and most Sith would jeer at her, accuse her of becoming soft. But others would understand her frustration with the constant infighting plaguing the Order. It weakened the Sith, any fool could see it. Unfortunately, most Sith were fools and unless she was really dedicated and suicidal enough to attempt to slaughter vast swathes of their ranks, they were fools she would have to suffer. Tremel looked up when Acolyte Hallow entered, surprised and suspicious she had returned so soon. He scrutinized her, but like always little gave away her thoughts. Her face was neutral, and her body relaxed, only the tiniest indication of a frown indicating there was something though whether due to an issue or thought he could not discern. “Acolyte, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. Has Baras sent you back to me?” “He has sent me to kill you.” She replied, drawing her warblade and holding it loosely at her side, but ready to snap to her defence should Tremel strike first. “Then I have been outplayed,” Tremel murmured, “Baras has the authority, but I did not expect something this overt. Either I did, or he forces me to kill you and to destroy my own plan. A master stroke.” “A cunning ploy.” She agreed. “Very well. You have your orders, acolyte. Know it gives me no pleasure to kill you,” A melancholic expression marred Tremel’s features, the emotion foreign on his face, as he ignited his lightsaber, crimson blade springing to life with a low-pitched whine, as if the blade knew there was little it could do to prevent its master impending death, “I’ll try to make your end quick and painless. It’s the least I can do.” Tremel struck, Aindri blocked, their blades clashing in a deadly dance of cool Sith steel and red-hot plasma. * Tremel showed strength and resilience in the end, and Aindri had to give credit where credit was due. Surviving in place where assassinations where an almost daily occurrence was no easy feat and one of his blows slipped past her guard to sear her arm. But one of them would fall and in the end, it was him. He fell with the knowledge that despite being seemingly out-manoeuvred, his plans would ultimately reach fruition. It was a good death. Entering Baras’s chambers, Aindri handed the proof, no trophy – because that’s what the hand was, a trophy – to her new master, her clothes splattered with fresh blood, her nostrils cloyed with bloods’ coppery scent. A lightsaber would have cauterised the cut, but she was not Sith yet and so had no such luxury. Baras took it, turning it over in his hand with a faint sense of surprise escaping through his chokehold on the Force to colour his signature, “I am impressed you had the fortitude to destroy him, you know he thought of you as family. How did it feel to betray him?” She shrugged “I did what was called for.” “You mask your feelings well,” Baras commented almost offhandedly, then admonished, “Make sure you do not suppress them.” He slipped the golden band on Tremel’s ring finger from the severed hand and held it out to her, “Here. Take this one ring as a memento. Remembering the past can strengthen resolve and embolden the spirit.” Or hold you back, Aindri couldn’t help but think as she took the ring, slipping it into her pocket. She would have to watch out for Eskella. She would lose face if she at least didn’t attempt challenge her fathers’ executioner, though Aindri doubted she would go as far as to ally with Vemrin for her revenge Baras stood from his desk, turning to look up at the statue of Emperor set against his chambers wall, and while subtle, she could sense his ambition when he looked upon the chiselled visage of the Empire’s ruler. “By destroying Tremel, you taken your first step to understanding the Sith Code rather than simply parroting it. You have freed yourself from his shackles and escaped his fate.” “And now I’m bound by your chains.” She commented drily. “You’ll find they are a marked improvement, with much greater potential range.” Until, she was no longer of use. With his final breath, Tremel warned her not to trust Baras, a final lesson Aindri would take to heart. He may have only been her teacher for a short while, but she would remember and honour their lessons. “Dealing with Tremel has left you behind your peers,” Baras turned to examine her in silence, his gaze drifting to the wound on Hallows arm before returning to her face, detecting not a single hint of pain in her features. She truly did hide her emotions well. “Minutes ago, I sent Vemrin and my acolytes to collect inscriptions from the Tomb of Tulak Hord. Enter the tomb, and bring me a shard from each of the ruined shrines. I set no rules regarding how the shards are secured and they will stop at nothing. It is up to your discretion how you retrieve them.” Bowing her head, Aindri left Baras’s chambers and was heading down the corridor when a Sith in blue inquisitor robes called her, asking if she was headed to the tombs. “Good,” She said upon her nodding, “I am Inquisitor Urinth and I have need of you. Whatever your master tasked you with can wait until we are through.” Urinth strode past her and she followed her curiously through a maze of corridors as the inquisitor explained to her of the captured Jedi in the jails. Understanding dawned as she remembered whole platoons of troopers going from tomb to tomb a couple of weeks ago. She had wondered what was going on but had only heard rumours, which while useful and normally uncannily accurate could be blown out of proportion. “How did the Jedi even land on Korriban?” Aindri asked as they entered one of the many smaller chambers littering the fourth floor. “Those who helped him are being hunted down as we speak, and those who failed to discover it have been punished. However, despite the blunder we can use this to our advantage.” She raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question and Urinth crossed her arms as she leant back against the desk. “Upon capture we found his mind simple to manipulate. We fed him false memories through a combination of drugs and sorcery and once he returns to his Jedi commanders and report the lies we fed him.” She nodded, “And the Jedi won’t know his memories have been tampered with?” “Indeed, and now all that remains is to stage his escape.” “And I’m young and new enough to the Academy to be a likely traitor,” She hummed thoughtfully, “I’ll go visit this Jedi now.” Urinth nodded her approval, “Good, do whatever is necessary to get him out of prison. You will find the Jedi in the academy jails, he is still confused so should not be overly difficult to convince. Do not fail.” Aindri raised her hand in acknowledgement as she left the room the door hissing shut behind her. Descending to the academies jails, she found the Jedi’s cell in an isolated area of the jail, cocking her head as she heard him reciting the Jedi Code. She debated for a moment before deciding on a sympathetic approach and talked with the Jedi, promising to retrieve his comlink and lightsaber from Tulak Hord’s tomb. The Jedi looked at her sadly as she stood to leave, “I’m sorry to have to ask this of you, I know the tombs are very dangerous.” She smiled down at him reassuringly, “I am prepared to take the risk.” The Jedi smiled his thanks and returned to his meditation, she could feel the Force flowing around him as he sunk into its flow. * Aindri shook her head as she stepped into the tombs interior sending a shower of sand and dust down onto the stairs leading into its depths. Descending them, she arrived at a chamber occupied by several troopers, the odd technician working on deactivated and most likely centuries old droids. She shook her head upon learning of the ongoing slave revolt, aided by rogue troopers on less. How could they expect to rule the galaxy when they couldn’t even keep their own soldiers in line? Fully aware of Vemrin and the other acolytes head start, Aindri moved quickly cutting down both droid and rebelling slave. Rocky detritus crunched underfoot as she made her way through the tomb, a metallic scent invading her nostrils from where fresh blood had been spilled. Finding the shrines holding the transcripts was easy enough, one located in a side chamber not far from the tombs’ entrance, buried among the rubble of a broken alter in a small side chamber not far from entrance. Retrieving the first shard, she found herself in a large sand filled open air atrium housing crumbling statues and monuments, slaves and rogue troopers supported by ancient droids occupying an open space. She kept her guard up crossing the sand but whoever challenged her advance fell quickly to her blade. The shrine in the archives housing the second shard were empty of slaves, but its chambers were instead infested with K’lor’slugs, Aindri’s lips curling in distaste as fought onwards. The third, she found in the tombs’ western wing, running her fingers lightly over the archaic script, barely legible after more than three thousand years of disuse. Korriban’s dry atmosphere did wonders for preservation but even it had its limit. It also in the western wing where she recovered the Jedi’s gear, stowed away in an urn in one of the wide corridors. Aindri retrieved the final shard in an area of the tomb overrun by shyrack, large bat like creatures, attacking her the moment she entered, their appetites aroused by the scent of blood on her clothes. By themselves shyrack weren’t too dangerous but in a flock, they could threaten to overwhelm if one was not careful. She left the tomb cataloguing her wounds, the only serious one a gash on her left shoulder she received curtesy of a group of acolytes who jumped her near the exit, hell bent on stealing her shards. Aindri recognised Klemral as the one who had landed the lucky blow, his ripped clothes and bleeding cuts indicating he’d had too much with the tombs’ denizens. She dispatched him quickly along with the other acolytes. Her opponents had been weak and slow, she showed them no mercy as she struck them down. Aindri smiled in anticipation, Vemrin’s reaction when she appeared with the shards. She had no doubt he was already there, positioning himself as the only acolyte who’d successfully completed their trial. Though he wasn’t far off given the corpses she had seen during her journey through the tomb, most of them had been standing in that semi-circle when she’d entered. She wasn’t disappointed. When Vemrin saw her, shards in hand, he scowled and seethed in rage, his own shards spread on Baras’s desk who looked up from his inspection when she approached, bowing her head and passing him her own. “Superb” Baras mused, noting lightly, “It seems your hopes have been dashed, Vemrin.” Vemrin growled, tightening his fists in an effort – a rather poor one – to keep calm and show she hadn’t got under his skin. His voice was low and even in the back of his throat like if he didn’t, he would be screaming in frustration, “Appearances can be deceptive.” She snorted lowly in response and Vemrin glared at her, anger twisting his features, Baras noting the silent exchange. “The tension is thick between you two,” He observed, noting the silent battle of wills between the two, “A great source of emotion to feed on. I wonder what will happen when it boils over.” One of them would be dead. It was the inevitable outcome the moment they laid eyes on the other. No, it was inevitable the moment Tremel called her to the Academy to face her trials. “I have much to consider. For now, you are both dismissed. Return to my chambers tomorrow morning.” Bowing, they left Baras’s chambers, Vemrin shoving past her when they entered the hall, his hand inching towards his blade but unable to run her through with a Darth’s presence so close by. Aindri moved away from him, heading to the infirmary to receive treatment for her shoulder wound. Aindri was later reading in the archives – she had taken scans of both the shards she’d given to Baras and those left in the tomb and was now attempting to translate them – when Urinth approached her and informed the inquisitor, she’d returned the Jedi’s belongings, and he was now ready to stage his escape. A familiar signature, flitted across her senses and Aindri, put a finer to her lips her gaze drifting past Urinth to settle on the acolytes heading in their direction. Urinth shifted slightly to glance over her shoulder at them before turning back to her with a miniscule nod of her head. “You have done well acolyte, you are a pleasure to teach.” Aindri nodded her thanks and Urinth walked away as she motioned for the acolytes to sit down. Phyne and Teeno had ambushed her along with their fellow acolytes early during her first month on Korriban. They had offered her their services in dealing with Vemrin, their rivalry well known even back then. She’d refused of course, which led to them sparring so they could prove their worth. They’d lost, and she told them, rather than attack Vemrin to watch him instead. They had performed admirably, providing her with information on Vemrin’s movements and allies. “Vemrin’s pissed,” Phyne whispered, sliding into the seat opposite her, “Really pissed.” “Went toe-to-toe with six other acolytes,” Teeno added, “Looked ready to murder someone.” Aindri nodded, not entirely surprised and told them to continue keeping an eye on him. She doubted Vemrin would doing anything between now and their meeting with Baras, but she would remain cautious now that they’re rivalry was coming to a head. They bowed their heads, Phyne giving her a small smile, before leaving her to her thoughts. Leaning back in her chair, Aindri tipped her head to look up at the ceiling, staring at seamless rock. Her time on Korriban was coming to an end. Regardless of who Baras chose, one of them would fall and one of them would rise. Picking up her datapad she left the archives and headed toward her dorm to prepare for her final day on Korriban.

Chapter Seven - Beasts of the Sith Aindri weaved through the rickety tables of the mess tent, approaching the fair skinned woman, black hair pinned up behind her head, who a trooper identified as Lord Renning’s apprentice. “What do you want?” Malora asked irritably abandoning her half-eaten breakfast. “Tuk’ata.” Aindri replied, starting her own breakfast. “Seeking Lord Renning’s lost pet are you,” Malora snorted, “Don’t waste your time the fool’s research is pointless.” “Do you wish to retrieve it?” She asked, continuing when Malora remained silent, “It is a deadly beast, not some harmless vermin.” “That may be, but you still risk your life for nothing.” Malora grumbled, her tone turning bitter, “Renning deludes the Dark Council into believing he’s advancing Sith knowledge. The truth is he wastes the Empire’s time and resources dissecting mindless animals. But if his experiments were discredited he would be banished, and I would be rewarded.” Malora leaned forward, her voice lowering to a whisper, “Look, just a minor alteration to the mutant Tuk’ata’s brain would allow me to reveal my master as a fraud. Bring me the brain before delivering it to Lord Renning, and I’ll make it worth your while.” Aindri swallowed the last of her food, bring up a map of the lower wilds on her datapad. “I will not be dragged into your schemes Malora. If you want to challenge your master do it yourself.” The apprentice scowled, stabbing her remaining food with her fork, and she looked at Malora expectantly. “The mutant Tuk’ata escaped Marka Ragnos’s tomb,” She relented, still glaring daggers at her as she pointed to an area on the map near the main entrance to Ragnos’ tomb, “It’s much larger than the others, so you should spot it easily.” Leaving Malora to brood, Aindri returned to her commandeered tent to grab her gear, having woken up at dawn to ready herself, and walked towards the camps entrance. She turned her wrist, clenching and unclenching her fist, releasing a small at how nicely her injury had healed. A combination of her naturally fast healing process, bacta, the Force and a goodnights sleep. Whilst the muscle still hadn’t fully recovered, she was confident that it wouldn’t be a problem during her trial. Stopping just outside the durasteel wall, she surveyed the sands, lit by the early morning sun, before her and made some adjustments to the calculations she had made last night reckoning it would take a bit less than half the day to travel to the tomb. From what she had been told by one of the troopers, research materials from the laboratory were being transported back to the Academy via shuttle so if she was quick she would back at the academy by nightfall. With little time to lose, Aindri began hiking across the sands and it was an hour later when she came upon the first ruin, a shattered pillar engraved with ancient Sith scrip worn away by time until it was barely legible. The dark sides’ presence was stronger here than it had been at the laboratory and she closed her eyes to reinforce her mental barriers, shielding her mind from whispering voices. Her shields strengthened she opened her eyes and started coughing, sand irritating the back of her throat. Ignoring the discomfort, she took a quick swig from the water flask attached to her belt before continuing her journey through the ruins, cutting a path through knots of soldiers been driven mad by the sheer strength of the darkness. It was another two hours of walking and cutting a swathe through large and small groups of psychotic soldiers, before she reached the entrance to massive tomb cut into the rocky face of the cliff that towered over sand and ruins. Carvings of ancient Sith symbols were etched into the walls, protecting the tomb with ancient Sith magic. Further symbols were engraved on the tombs interior walls, writing describing the various parts of Marka Ragnos’s life, many telling the same history they were taught at the academy, covering almost any free space. Venturing deeper into the tomb, Aindri met and fought rival acolytes as well as those who had been cast out of the academy and sought a second a chance at power. She found Renning’s beast in an antechamber in the tombs western wing using chunks of K’lor’slug meat as bait after she had come across some and gutted them. The fight was an interesting challenge, as she had to hold back against a beast twice the size of a normal Tuk’ata to make sure the brain wouldn’t get damaged. After cutting out the brain and placing it in a specimen case she climbed over the rubble and stepped through the gap the Tuk’ata had charged through, hoping to use the passageway to get deeper into the tomb but found her way blocked by large rocks and collapsed columns forcing her to turn back. After passing through several large chambers, many filled with abandoned excavation equipment, skirting the walls to avoid further clashes, she came across a corridor which was colder than the others. The dark side ever so slightly more oppressive as it pushed against the mental barriers she had erected. But her shields held, and she walked down the corridor, coming to a flight of stairs leading into another chamber, half circle in shape and with a high vaulted ceiling, lit only by a single shaft of sunlight through a hole in the roof. Shrouded in shadow, hooded statues hugging its walls, spaced at even intervals they flanked stone alters stone alters adorned by skulls with various skeletal structures Steeling herself, Aindri descended the stairs, lifting her foot when she heard a crunching sound and looking down to find pieces of a white object. It was only when casting her eyes to the rest of the chamber that realised it was bone. Whole skeletons and individual bones, some human others not, littered the floor. Some were brittle and cracked, others were smooth. Aindri crouched and picked up a piece, inspecting the deep gouges in its surface. Rising, she dropped the piece and unsheathed her warblade, holding it loosely in her hands as she crossed the chamber to the stone tablet sitting upon a raised dais, bones crunching underneath. The dark side rippled slightly around her and peering into one of the six braziers flanking the tablet, Aindri found it filled with an unidentifiable liquid. Tremel’s words of sitting among the flames sprung to mind and she withdraw a lighter from her belt, holding it against the liquid surface, rapidly withdrawing her hand when purple flames flickered to life, casting an eerie glow across the tablet. Lighting the rest, Aindri sunk into seiza, taking deep and study breaths as she tapped into the dark side of the Force. A wave of dark side energy crash into her, the ground shaking when a rumble echoed from deep within the tomb. Her eyes snapping open, Aindri spun to face the sarcophagus resting beneath the statute standing against the chambers back wall, raising her warblade in defence. The chamber fell still before stone exploded outward in a shower of dust and debris, a bulky shadow breaking through the wall. Once the cloud of dust died down, Aindri found herself face to face with the hulking figure that was the Beast of Marka Ragnos. Easily triple times her height, it towered over her, large spines scratching the walls. Aindri recognised it as a Terentatek, a beast descended from rancors experimented on by early Sith, a product of Sith alchemy. But the dark energies, pure malice and intense hunger emanating from the creature marked it as something special and she could scarcely believe it, thinking they had all gone extinct. “Sithspawn.” She tensed, the beast whipping round its head to stare in her direction at the sound of her voice. She eyed its massive claws warily, more than aware of the toxic venom they and the tusks exuded. The beast fixed its eyes on her and sniffed before letting out an earth-shattering roar. Drawing on the Force, Aindri thrust out her palm, sending a blast of Force energy slamming into the beast, which hadn’t moved an inch. But she had achieved her goal. It roared in rage and charged towards her, massive claws raised to crush and maim. She rolled forwards, a shower of dust and shards flew into the air when its talons struck stone. Aindri stayed constantly on the move, ducking and dodging blows. Cutting, piercing, slashing and stabbing where the beasts hide was exposed and venerable, sparks flying when her blade skated across its armour. She sprung backwards, easily avoiding the wild swings of fists, the Sithspawn’s attacks became increasingly erratic. Its movements were sluggish, weakened by blood loss but her own blade hand started to shake, her injured muscles throbbing and sending dull pain arching up her arm. Placing some distance between her and the beast she watched its movements carefully. Adrenaline rushing through her veins, her senses sharpened, and time slowed to a standstill. Blood roaring in her ears. Heart thudding in her chest. Boots sliding across the stones slickened by blood. Bones and rubble scattered across the chamber. The stench of sweat and blood. Tightening her grip on the warblade, time accelerated back to normally speed and she sprinted forward. Sliding underneath the beast she used her momentum to carry her forward launching to her feet behind its back. Pivoting, she drew on the Force and leaped up high into the air. Flipping her warblade Aindri brought it slamming down into the gap between the beast’s spines, piercing its throat. Gritting her teeth, she held on tight as the Sithspawn thrashed around, screeching. Gradually the creature’s movement slowed, and it shuddered before collapsing, its breathing getting shallower as the life left its body. Withdrawing her warblade she pushed of from its back, landing lightly on her feet with her blade raised and ready to deal with any unexpected surprises. Slowly making her way round to its head, Aindri could see the light leave its eyes, the Sithspawn released its last breath and shuddering once more before stilling completely. Dropping her arm, the tip of her warblade scratched the food and Aindri hung her head back letting out a triumphant roar, drinking in the warm afterglow of a well fought battle. Her roar echoed throughout the chamber and stabbed her blade into a gap between the stones to keep her balance, leaning forward as she breathed deeply, dragging air into her lungs. Aindri felt the oppressive darkness which had saturated the chamber slowly dissipate until she could no longer hear the whispering voices. Aindri’s fingers loosened around her warblades hilt and she sat heavily on the ground, looking down at her blood-stained clothes she scrunched her nose in disgust. Ignoring the throbbing in her arm Aindri stripped off her outer tunic and threw it into flames, watching as the wet fabric caught alight. Checking the contents of her flask she used half of the remaining water to wash the blood from her hair and face. Shaking her head, she re-tied her hair and stood, picking up and sheathing her warblade. Aindri’s journey back through the tomb was relatively free of conflict, the amount of blood on her robes dissuading most from approaching her. Exiting the tomb, she shielded her eyes from Horuset’s harsh glare, waiting for her eyesight to readjust before checking her chrono, considering the time she spent in the tomb she judged she’d be back at the Academy by nightfall. When Aindri returned to the laboratory, she headed immediately towards the research area, passing troopers who were loading equipment into a shuttle. She found Renning near the back of the area, elbow deep in a new Tuk’ata corpse, Malora crouched by a cage checking on a K’lor’slug. Sensing her approach, Renning removed his hands from the Tuk’ata, turning to her with a scowl, “I’m running out of patience. Have you finally acquired the mutant Tuk’ata brain, or should I send someone else?” Malora looked up from her work, eyes widening at the acolytes’ bloody appearance before quickly switching to stare daggers at her when Aindri held the specimen case out too Renning. “Ah ha!” Renning grinned manically, extending his arms to take the case, “Wonderful! Let me see it.” “Look at the mottling along the frontal lobe. I can’t wait to analyse this.” He stared at the brain reverently through the glass only snapping out of his reprieve when she coughed. Placing the specimen case on the table he looked up at her, “You’ve done me a great service, but now I must continue my research. If there’s nothing else?” She briefly considered whether to enlighten him of his apprentices attempted duplicity, but Malora’s feelings regarding her master were hardly concealed and Renning had most likely knew already. It was after all, expected of apprentices to betray their master. “No, good luck with your research.” * Aindri had returned to the Academy by early evening, having hitched a ride on a transport shuttle, heading through its winding corridors to Tremels chambers. Her hand dropped to the hilt of her blade, when she sensed a pulse of barely restrained resentment and bloodlust rippling through the Force. Loitering at the bottom of the stairs was Dolgis, undoubtedly the disturbance’s source, and released a frustrated sigh. She was not in the mood to deal with Vemrin’s minion. “Well look who’s here,” Dolgis smirked looking up at her, “Remember me?” Aindri levelled him a glare. She was tired and didn’t want a fight, no doubt the reason why Vemrin had sent his lapdog to confront her now. She moved to walk past him, glaring even harder when he held up his arm to block her. “Not so fast, buddy. I put myself in your way. On purpose,” He smirked at her, “Notice anything interesting?” Aindri arched an eyebrow, of course she had noticed the suspiciously empty corridor. It may lead to Tremel’s chambers but even this corridor was busy this time of day. If Dolgis was here then Vemrin’s other groupies were likely running interference, keeping other acolytes away. “No witnesses and no witnesses means no rules.” Dolgis unclipped his training sword and she drummed her fingers lightly against her blades hilt, waiting for him to make the first move. “No more shortcuts. No more special treatment. You’re just going to be another dead failure on Korriban.” Dolgis charged forwards his training raised. She pivoted away from his blade, Dolgis staggering forward, whirling around growling. She ducked and dodged his blows staying within his reach but never letting him land a hit. It wasn’t long before Dolgis began tiring and lunged at her desperately. Drawing her warblade she disarmed him with a flick of her wrist. Whipping in behind him, she brought her blade to rest against his throat. Unable to process what just happened, Dolgis stared down at his empty hands and blinked. Looking up, he met her eyes and gulped. “N – No! Hold up, hold up! Look I was wrong.” He said quickly, his voice trembling slightly, and she could feel his terror as her blade bit his throat, “What they’re saying about you… totally true. So… strong. I don’t wanna die!” “And I don’t care.” She replied coldly, before drawing her blade across Dolgis’s throat, severing his carotid artery spraying the walls with a fine red mist. Falling to the floor, Dolgis reached out unseeingly for the hilt of his saber, blood slowly drained out of his body. A wet gurgle escaped from his lips as took his last breath, his body stilled. Stepping over Dolgis corpse she felt Tremel’s unease as she entered his chambers and found him sitting at his desk staring vacantly at his datapad. “I have slayed Marka Ragnos’s beast.” “I know, I felt it.” He said distractedly continuing to stare at his datapad. Aindri frowned, she had felt the dark side dissipate when she had slayed the beast, but she didn’t think it would be felt all the way here at the Academy. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped when he waved at her dismissively. “Yes, yes. You are dismissed for now.” He said absently, and she left his chambers frowning but happy she could head to the dorms for a much-needed shower. She could already imagine the look on Tormi’s face at her blood-soaked appearance. She swore the blood had seeped through her clothes and into her skin. * Darth Baras steepled his fingers and sat back in his chair looking thoughtfully at the report on his desk. He, like many other high ranking Sith at the Academy, had felt the tremor in the Force yesterday afternoon and after making his inquiries his suspicions had been confirmed. Aindri Ninum Hallow. The name of the acolyte Tremel was rushing through her trials rang in his head, distracting him from the astrogation charts, troop and cargo manifests, ship logs and dozens of other various types of list littering his desk. He had known Tremel had brought his own acolyte to Korriban out of some misplaced sense of duty towards ensuring purity and allowed it, thinking – if nothing else – their presence would provide suitable motivation for his own group of acolytes. But now… Tapping his fingers against his chairs armrest, Baras came to a decision punching in Tremel’s holo code, his thoughts drifting back to the issue at hand as he waited for him to answer. Rumours of Hallows’ talents had already spread throughout the Academy and now she had slain a beast which had ended the lives of countless acolytes as well as some full-fledged Sith. Baras thought both Thanaton and Harkun idiots for ignoring the potential threat the Twi’lek acolyte posed. They would pay for that mistake, but he would not do the same. It paid to keep powerful individuals where he could easily dispose of them should they prove a threat. The overseer’s ghostly blue image flickered to life and Baras let the silence stretch as he regarded Tremel who, to his credit, didn’t fidget despite the nervousness rolling off him. “My lord?” Tremel asked his voice steady but Baras could sense the trepidation hiding beneath his calm exterior. Baras allowed silence stretch between them, letting Tremel sweat before giving him his orders, “Tremel, bring this acolyte of yours too me.” “My…” Tremel began, but Baras cut him off before the lie could leave his lips. “Do not lie to me. Did you not think I wouldn’t know of your protégé?” He asked curtly and watched as Tremel grew more nervous before he continued, “Send them to me Overseer. Do not make me ask again.” “Yes, of course, my lord.” Tremel bowed hurriedly before signing off. Regarding the now empty space, Baras considered how best to deal with the errant Overseer. Tremel had far surpassed being an annoyance, and it was time he was dealt with. Perhaps, Baras contemplated, he could use this situation to his advantage, eliminate both overseer and acolyte in the same stroke. Ultimately, regardless of what transpired his endgame would not change, but he required a pawn strong enough to achieve his goals in the interim. If it would prove to be this unknown acolyte then so be it, and if they died it would only serve to make the one who does become his pawn stronger.

Chapter Six – Into the Wilds A clash of steel resounded as the light skinned and brown-haired acolyte brought her blade down savagely while her opponent rapidly brought their own up to block. She recognised one of the acolytes fighting and it was someone who she had hoped to avoid or miss altogether. Thana Vesh. Favouring Form IV, like always, Vesh had assumed Ataru’s opening stance, and as soon as the words, “Begin,” had left Rance’s lip, launched into a series of lightning fast attacks, her opponent forging the usual ridiculous flourish most Form II practitioners favoured in his hurry to defend. She pushed the male acolyte with brutal ferocity. In her peripheral vision, an acolyte winced as Vesh dealt a savage blow to her opponents’ ribs. Watching the duel, noting each of their strengths and weakness as it would be they who duelled the victor, it seemed little had changed since Aindri last saw her. Good, but rough around the edges, allowing her brashness and explosive temper to rule her actions as her opponent got a few hits in as her attacks became sloppier the more she fell for their taunts. Aindri still remembered the various incidents, murdering eight of the family eight guards – brutalising them to the point they barely looked human when a servant found them mangled in a hall – an entire city block razed to ground when her parents tried to exercise some control over their daughter. She disliked the woman for the simple reason that Vesh her believed her abilities and status as a would be Sith, combined with the wealth of her family meant she was entitled to everything she desired. Thana bashed away her opponents’ blade, and delivered a vicious strike to his head, a loud crack resounding throughout the arena. The other acolyte teetered on their feet before collapsing to the floor, Thana grinning savagely as she delivered a swift kick to their stomach when they fell. “Well done Acolyte Vesh, but you still need to work on your defences. He was able to get in a couple of hits when he shouldn’t have.” Called Rance, before pointing to the acolyte lying unconscious on the floor. “Now someone get this piece of trash out of my sight.” Two acolytes scurried onto the stage, picking up and dragging the defeated acolyte from the platform, heading to the Academies medical ward. “Acolyte Hallow, you’re up.” He called pointing at her. Standing she took her place opposite Thana on the stage and adopted Soresu’s opening stance. Rance raised an eyebrow at her choice of Form but didn’t comment. “Begin.” Vesh charged at Aindri, swinging her vibrosword at her neck. Blocking the first strike with ease she allowed Thana to press her advantage leading her in a dance of steel, parrying strike after strike. Strikes failing to meet flesh, she felt Vesh’s rage build until the Force started to simmer around her. The calmness with which Aindri had defended against her attacks became a red flag to a bull. Locking blades, their eyes met, and she could see the pure fury in Vesh’s eyes. It was time to end this. Snarling, Vesh disengaged too quickly and lunged at her wildly. Sidestepping the blow, Aindri stuck out her foot and Thana, who was already off balance by the lack of solid resistance, fell face first too the ground. Aindri pushed down on Thana’s back with the heel of her boot, pressing the tip of her warblade against her neck as Rance called an end to the fight. “Acolyte Hallow, an excellent display of lightsaber combat.” He told her, nodding his approval before turning to Thana who had sat up with a furious expression on her face. “And Acolyte Vesh, Hallow had complete control of the fight. She was leading you on from the beginning and you didn’t even notice!” Rance shook his head in disappointment before calling up another acolyte to the stage. “I’ll get you back for this.” Vesh hissed, pushing past Aindri too storm off the stage. Ignoring the threat, she mirrored the other acolyte as he took up Makashi’s single low-handed guard, his thumb pointing down the length of his blade for smaller, tighter, more accurate movements of the blade. Vesh’s hate filled gaze focused on her back for the rest of the class. * Tremel eyed the map of the Wilds, an uninhabited area beyond Dreshdae, spread out across his desk, tapping his fingers absently against the cold metal. Hallows defeat of Thana Vesh, one of the more promising acolytes to grace the Academy’s halls, showed she was ready he mused, his gaze zeroing in on the tomb he’d selected for her third trial, but Marka Ragnos’ beast was dangerous. There was every chance he was sending her to her death. Tremel snorted. If Hallow couldn’t defeat the beast then she simply wasn’t strong enough. Somehow, Tremel doubted that would be the case. Hallow’s presence in the Force danced along the edge of his senses long before he saw her, and Tremel looked up as the door hissed open to see her striding into the door. “You’re here good. We must move on without delay. With every moment that passes we risk discovery before we’re ready.” Tremel stood and indicated for her to come around his desk. “For your next trial, you are to go to the Wilds and enter the Tomb of Marka Ragnos to slay the beast he left to guard his legacy,” He instructed, indicating to a camp marked on the map near a massive cliff face, “You will first need to take a speeder to Dreshdae and then travel on foot to the wilds laboratory. From there you will enter the tomb and sit amongst the flames. The beast will come to you.” Tremel looked up at her with a serious expression on his face, “Do not underestimate it, defeating this creature will take your best effort. I’ll see you when the beast is slain, good luck.” Inclining her head in understanding she exited his chambers, planning her route as she walked to her room. The trial itself would not take her long, a few hours at most, but travelling would take a day at least. The dorm room was empty when she entered and she rummaged through the draw underneath her bed, withdrawing a clean set of cloths and put them in a rucksack along with her datapad; she retrieved food, water and medical supplies from the quartermaster. Walking down the academies front steps she headed for the taxi pad nodding in greeting to Inquisitor Arzanon, who’d she helped in eliminating traitors in the valley – the badge given in recognition of her service clipped to the inside of her robes – as she passed him. Swinging her leg over a requisitioned speeder, she revved its engines and swung its nose south, heading off in Dreshdae’s direction. Korriban’s rocky scenery flying past her she accelerated taking delight in the gruttle purr of the engine and the wind slicing through her clothes. In the distance she could just make out Dreshdae’s outline and slowed down as she neared the settlement before turning into the main thoroughfare. Giving The Drunk Side, a well-known hotbed of criminal activity, a wide berth Aindri parked the speeder outside the spaceport and dismounted, removing the goggles she had been wearing to protect her eyes from the wind. Walking through the streets she passed Dreshdae’s military base catching snippets of conversations from soldiers preparing for deployment. “We really going in there are we sir? Only, the last few squads that entered the tombs in the Wilds never came back.” One of the soldiers asked nervously. “We have our orders Private, ours is not to question but to obey.” “But, they say the tombs drive people who aren’t Force sensitive insane. I’ve heard the other squads are still down there, howling mad and killing each other.” The private protested as his fellow trooper removed a tube from a crate. “Those men didn’t have proper protection. Lord Renning has assured me that these new stimulants will protect us from the tombs protect.” “That’s what they said about the aural bands. And the implants…” Their voices trailed off as she got nearer the city wall. Frowning, she closed her eyes, turning her focus inwards to check her mental shields. She was well aware of the rumours surrounding the Wilds tombs’ and she wanted to make sure that they were strong before entering their vicinity. The area immediately outside Dreshdae’s walls was littered with abandoned mining equipment and upon exiting the settlement she had to pick her way around it before entering the Wilds proper. A strong wind whipped across the open desert sending up gusts of sand into the air, she turned up her collar and re-donned the goggles to protect her eyes. It took her a good few hours to trek across the dunes, shifting sands making it difficult to find and keep her footing, before she reached the ravine linking the upper and lower wilds. Ducking in to the ravine, she shivered slightly at the drop-in temperature, the tall cliffs shadowing the valley floor blocking out Horusets’ harsh rays. Checking her chrono and her map, Aindri saw she was on schedule and decided to take a break. Setting down her bag she sat on a boulder with her back against the cliff to prevent predators attacking her from behind. Chewing on a ration bar she titled her head back to stare at the sky, her mind flitting back to the conversation between the two troopers, a childhood memory springing unbidden to her mind. Cracking open an eye, I glance at my uncle before closing my eyes and fidgeting. A stiff breeze skirted the massive cliff we were sitting on, ruffling my hair and clothes. I attempted to concentrate and mediate but the uncomfortable hard packed ground and the sun beating down on my back made it difficult and I continued to fidget. “Out with-it child. You are disrupting my concentration.” My uncle instructed, his eyes still closed and breathing even. “Why are we here?” I blurted out unable to keep quite any longer, I mean how on Ziost is a desert planet so cold. “Because Korribans’ is an ancient darkness my child. Many a weak minded Sith have had they’re psyche twisted and broken here.” I thought for a moment before snorting. “I think I’m too stubborn for that.” Her uncle chuckled. “You may be right child. However, it would still be prudent to learn to shield your mind. If not from the darkness then from other Sith.” I raised an eyebrow and looked at my uncle quizzically. “What do you mean?” Opening his eyes’, he uncrossed his legs and turned to me. “Shielding your mind will allow you to protect your thoughts and your secrets. It is imperative, given our orders cut-throat nature.” I thought for a moment before realising my uncle had a point, as always and nodded my understanding. “Now relax. Find that place in your mind where no one can touch you. A happy memory often works best when protecting yourself from the darkness.” “But, doesn’t the Code teach us hate is what gives Sith their power?” I asked confused since that was one of the fundamental lessons drilled into any Sith’s head, including mine, from birth. “No, it teaches us that our passion is what gives us power and passion comes in many forms. It’s through passion I gain strength, not through hatred I gain strength. Hate just happens to be one of the stronger emotions.” “But…” I started, falling silent when my uncle held up his hand stopping me. “Child if I explain everything to you, you will never learn to think for yourself. A Code can give you guidance but it is important for you to come too your own conclusions.” I frowned thoughtfully before asking, “Then when protecting secrets from other Sith, I what? Empty my mind?” “Or crowd it with other thoughts now let’s start again. Relax and this time please focus.” A long howl resounded throughout the ravine, snapping Aindri out of the memory. Quickly finishing the ration bar, she doubled checked the map on her datapad, finding that the laboratory was still several klicks away from her current position. Closing her eyes and reaching out with her senses, she scanned the area before looking up at sky, swearing when she saw the suns’ position. “Damn.” Aindri quickened her stride, spurred on by the knowledge that she only had a few hours of daylight left and a desire to reach the laboratory before dusk. With her sole focus being on crossing the sands, she almost didn’t sense the beasts waiting in the shadows. “Asilas.” Turning slowly, Aindri found herself staring at a pack of hound like creatures snapping and growling at her, matted black fur hiding taught muscle beneath. Tuk’ata. A loud growl came from Tuk’ata nearest to her standing low to the ground, razor sharp teeth bared and hackles risen as it pawed at the sand. The Tuk’ata pounced and Aindri grunted as her back slammed into hit hard packed sand, instantly bringing up her arm to protect her neck. She hissed in pain, biting back a scream as the beasts’ jaws easily ripping through leather and tearing into her skin. Gritting her teeth, she rocked backwards and brought her legs up kicking hard at the beast’s stomach. Rolling backwards into a crouch, she thrust out her palms. A blast of Force energy slammed into the Tuk’ata, sending it hurtling backwards into the one behind it. Smashing into the rocks they fell to the ground twitching before falling still. Her attack with an unseen force caused the remaining Tuk’ata to step back and eye her warily. Breathing heavily, she snarled, her anger building, and stepped forward, Tuk’ata scrambling backwards as they sensed her rage. She roared a feral roar, and watched as the Tuk’ata yelped and sprinted away to scrabble up the cliffs. Feeling her anger drain away, Aindri fell back onto her arse and cradled her arm, adrenalin fading away and bringing back her pain. “Stupid, stupid, stupid, idiot.” Aindri hissed. She couldn’t believe she had let her guard down like that. She glanced down at her bloodied arm but the ripped leather obscured the wound. She would have to remove it before assessing and treating the damage. Gritting her teeth, Aindri grabbed the top of the gauntlet and yanked, sucking in air through clenched teeth. Hissing, Aindri grabbed a flask from her bag and poured water onto the wound, doing her best to wash out the sand and blood. Wound clean, Aindri brought it up to eye level, relieved to see it wasn’t too deep, most bites force absorbed by the tough leather. Still, she wouldn’t be surprised if it left a scar. Withdrawing a medpac, she gently rubbed the kolto paste into the wound before wrapping it in bandages, tying them tightly so they wouldn’t come undone. Satisfied that her administrations would last until she reached the lab, Aindri pulled on a spare gauntlet and pushed herself to her feet to continue trudging through the ravine, this time making sure to continuously scan the environment for danger. Within a couple more hours, she left the shadows of the tall cliffs and found herself on top of a hill overlooking the lower wilds. From where she stood, Aindri could make out the occasional ruin rising from the sand, rock carved tombs standing tall and proud in the distance. Just below her, protected by a massive durasteel wall at its front and by a rugged cliff face at its back, was the wilds laboratory, a semi-permeant camp with troopers, researchers and Sith bustling about inside. Slipping and sliding down the hill, Aindri entered with about an hour of daylight left. She headed straight for the medical tent knowing the extent her emergency treatment would prevent infection was limited, remaining stoic throughout, well aware showing weakness was akin to painting a target on her back for fellow acolytes. Haven received medical attention and eaten dinner, Aindri explored the camp. A significant chunk was devoted to its namesake, an open-air laboratory littered with dissection tables and cages housing various specimens of Korribanian fauna. The rest was a jumble of tents haphazardly erected wherever there was space. Wandering into the laboratories central area she came across a Sith Lord, judging from the fine cut of his robes, standing over a table with his hands deep inside a half dissected Tuk’ata. “A fresh young acolyte, come to view my experiments? Good,” The portly Sith removed his hands from the beasts’ insides, stripping off his gloves and throwing them in the bin before rinsing his hands, “I trust the sight of a messy operating table doesn’t disturb you?” Aindri stepped closer to the table, tugging on one of the sterile gloves before lifting one of the removed organs, holding it up to her eye so she could examine it more closely. Renning gave a small smirk before throwing out his arm to gesture at the specimen. “On the surface, this Tuk’ata is nothing special. But I alone can see it. The Force is alive, and it expresses its will in the physical world. This creature was one such form. An expression of pure dark-side energy, aggression made manifest.” Placing the organ back on the table, Aindri arched an eyebrow at Renning guessing, “And we are another of these forms.” “Sith are the highest manifestations of the Force’s will.” He affirmed, smiling haughtily when he continued, “I’ve dissected hundreds of Tuk’ata, forging a direct connection to the dark side. Each beast I examine advances me towards perfect unity.” What Aindri felt was anger, not pride or the other emotions she would expect would come with such a ‘breakthrough’, coursing through Renning and she raised an eyebrow. “I now stand at a new frontier but find myself thwarted. My most perfect specimen – a Tuk’ata mutant - escaped to the tombs before I could analyse it.” The Sith said bitterly answering her unspoken question. “I could recover your specimen.” She offered; having a Sith Lord owing her a favour could be beneficial in the future. He examined her for a moment before nodding, “My apprentice Malora saw which tomb the mutant beast fled into. Find out what she knows, assist me, and you will be rewarded.” “I’ll speak to your apprentice and retrieve your Tuk’ata brain when I head into the tombs.” “You found a great calling in my service. I trust you appreciate that.” Leaving him to his research Aindri looked up at the gradually darkening skies, clouds just obscuring Korriban’s blood reds moons as they climbed higher above the horizon. Approaching the wall surrounding the laboratory, Aindri drew on the Force and jumped, landing gracefully on the walkway above. Drawing on the Force to compensate for the lack of light she searched until she found Marka Ragnos’ tomb, nestled in a row of cliffs, calculating how roughly long it would take to travel to the tomb, complete her trial, retrieve the Tuk’ata brain and get back. Jumping back down into the camp she decided she’d find Malora in the morning, after all she had no desire to hunt a Tuk’ata in the dark. * Asilas = Sh.it in Sith

Chapter Five – Reigning Judgement Setting his datapad on his desk, Tremel sat back thinking, fingers interlaced beneath his chin. The report on the acolyte’s progress showed she had surpassed his expectations, and he would have to readjust his assessment of her abilities. She demonstrated intelligence and strength, and the moment she had stepped off the shuttle he had felt the ripples in the Force that her very presence was causing. There were of course, whispers of discontent amongst the acolytes and overseers at her arrival, but now they had a taste of her abilities many admitted she deserved her place. Even Rance, who originally favoured Vemrin, had begun giving her one-on-one instruction. Tremel frowned thoughtfully. The rumours had mostly likely reached Baras, he needed make his next move and if not now soon. Re-looking over the list of potential prisoners scheduled for transport to Korriban, he selected the three cases he’d best thought would test her mind. Satisfied with his selection, he sent a message those three were to be delivered to Korriban immediately. It was time for the acolyte’s second trial. * Aindri sat in large lecture hall flipping through the class materials on her datapad, only half listening as Assistant Overseer Markan lectured about ancient Sith Lords. Tormi sat next to her looking bored and Marken shot her a look of disdain when she gave an exaggerated yawn. “Ajunta Pall,” He bit out, sweeping his gaze over the acolytes, “Was the first individual to have held the title of Dark Lord of the Sith. Known for his ability to shape and create life through the Force, the Jedi, being the fools they are, condemned his actions and suppressed his teachings." "In an act of defiance he fought against the Jedi leading to the Hundred-Year Darkness and upon his defeat, was exiled to the Outer Rim, where they discovered Korriban and the Sith,” He inclined his head towards Ffon, who looked down on the other acolytes smugly, “Who revered Ajunta Pall and his fellow exiles as gods.” “Ah, to be worshipped by legions of minions and venerated as a god.” Tormi, sighed dreamily, her eyes glazing over with barely concealed desire. “Constantly being surrounded by sycophants would be irritating.” Aindri replied. “And that is where we differ my friend, for I could imagine nothing better.” Aindri hummed in response before glancing up to see Markan who was glowering at them, specifically Tormi. “Pay attention Acolyte,” Marken spat, “Or you will be punished.” Tormi gave the assistant overseer an overly sweet smile and he growled at her. Marken was one of those who, like Tremel, could often be heard complaining of what he deemed was the increasingly lax standards regarding admission to the Academy. She had listened to more than one verbal sparring match between him and the Twi’lek. “And to think these sacred halls is being desecrated by aliens and slaves.” A mixture of scowls and smirks broke out across the room, Vemrin and Ffon unsurprisingly among them, at Markens words. Aindri glanced sidewise to see Tormi’s smile slip slightly. Nudging the Twi’leks shoulder, she gave Tormi a small shake of her head, indicating it wasn’t worth it. Her companion released a small sigh but nodded and sat up looking attentive. She felt Tormi’s loathing simmering beneath her skin when Marken smirked at her. “Tulak Hord,” He began with a smug tone, “Was another early Dark Lord, the battles of Yn and Chabosh among his greatest achievements.” Tulak Hord. Memories of listening to her mother reading her stories of those famous battles flashed through her mind. It was one of the few good memories she had of her. “It is believed that hundreds of worlds were conquered by Hord, and his conquering of the Dromund system played a significant part in Dromund Kass becoming the Empires current capital. Unfortunately, the majority records from that era were lost in the Great Hyperspace War but that hasn’t stopped generations of Sith from unearthing his teachings and artefacts.” Aindri felt interest stir in Tormi at the mention of the word ‘artefact’, her signature flaring a little before being tempered as the Twi’lek adopted a mask of indifference. “Hord’s mask was found by Revan during his search for the Star Forge. His lightsaber discovered by Darth Marr on Dromund Fels before his ascension to the Dark Council.” Many sat up at the mention of dark councillor legendary for his reputation as the Defender of the Empire, a Sith who dealt defeat after defeat to the Republic forces. He was one of the few people she immediately respected, even she had met him when he visited her uncle at his home. “Hord’s successor was Marka Ragnos, eliminating his competitors through quick and ruthless campaigns. It was this strength, power and penchant for strategy that became hallmarks of his rule and allowed him to hold the title for over a century due to showing a great level of strategic discipline. It was also this strategic discipline that stopped him from waging war against both the Jedi and the Republic, despite knowing of their existence. Why?” Silence descended as acolytes looked at each uncertainly and Markan grew increasingly annoyed with each passing second. She glanced at Tormi, who could’ve easily answered with her already extensive knowledge of Sith history. But she was content to let Markan stew and the pleasure at Ffon’s inability to answer was clear on the Twi’lek’s face. Aindri sighed quietly and placed her datapad on the desk before answering, raising her voice so she could be heard throughout the room, “The Empire wasn’t ready. He knew they needed to focus on gathering strength before confronting the Republic. If, at that time, Empire’s and Republic forces clashed, the Empire would not survive.” “Naga Sadow attacked the Republic.” Tormi pointed out. “And look at the result. Sadow was too ambitious, too impatient. Had he followed Ragnos’s example, waited until the Empire was truly ready, the Hyperspace War wouldn’t have been lost. His overconfidence was his downfall.” She replied, Tormi inclining her head as she conceded the point. Marken nodded at her in approval, “You are correct, Acolyte. Despite the Empires initial successes, the Republic far outmatched us in numbers and firepower. Once the Republic realised this they regrouped and pushed Sadow’s forces back to Koros. When he retreated after failing to invade Republic space, the Republic followed him, which resulted in the loss of Korriban.” Several of the acolytes growled in anger at the thought of Republic ships even being in the same system, much less in orbit above Korriban itself. Tormi looked indifferent, but then Aindri supposed that was to be expected. After all, the Empire, both current and ancient, was a civilisation built on the backs of what where deemed ‘lesser species’. “Did Sadow die on Korriban?” Asked an acolyte sitting in front of her, not quite being able to keep the venom out of his voice. “No one is entirely sure, but the most commonly held belief among historians is that Sadow sought refuge and later died on Yavin Four.” Markan checked the chrono on his wrists, “Tomorrow we’ll be going more in depth into lead up to the Great Hyperspace War before moving onto the war itself.” He paused and looked at each of them in eye. “And I expect all of you to be better prepared it.” Tormi snorted and smiled when he glared at her, waving at him in response. Growling, Markan strode from the room causing an acolyte, who was standing by nervously the door, to jump out of the way. Tormi cocked her head regarding the acolyte. “My, my, my, what could Harken possibly want now?” Tormi tutted and sauntered over to the doorway. Aindri’s datapad vibrated gently on the desk and she looked down to see a message from Tremel requesting her presence in his chambers. “Coming?” Venitas asked, appearing besides her and she shook her head and nodded in understanding when she lifted her datapad to show him the message and whispered, “Good luck.” Since her first day and her first lesson, Aindri had fallen into the familiar routine of lightsaber training in the morning, lessons on the Force, and lightsaber training in the afternoon. Further supplemented by Sith history and battle tactics. But knowing of Tremel’s game she knew he would expedited her trials. Still she was surprised he had called her for her second trial so soon, for that would be the only reason she would be called to Tremel’s chambers. Entering his chambers, Tremel walked out from behind his desk so that he was standing directly in front of her. “You here good,” Greeted Tremel, walking out from behind his desk to stand directly in front of her, “Do you know why I called you here?” “My second trial.” “You are correct. There are three prisoners in the Academy jails. Interrogate them and decide their fates. Consider each criminal’s story carefully. The decisions you make will be scrutinized, let your passions guide your judgements.” She arched an eyebrow, “Who will judge my actions?” “Me. When Darth Baras catches wind of you it’s going to be my neck on the line as much as yours.” He replied matter-of-factly, and she considered his answer for a moment before inclining her head, conceding the point. “The head jailer Knash is waiting for you in one holding rooms. Now go, and return to me after you’ve passed judgement on the prisoners.” Walking through the halls, Aindri reached the stairs down to the jails, a slight draft coming from beyond the stairs, and she recalled the underground floors were far more expansive than those above. She also recalled that the jails took up the whole of the first of the underground levels. Descending the stairs, she came into a long cavernous room, the lights doing little to chase away the shadows. Ray-shielded cells lined rough-hewn walls, casting an eerie red glow across the dark floor, ceiling and walls. Various doors led into individual interrogation rooms, from which she could hear pained screams and smell burned flesh. Closing her eyes, she could feel the pure despair infusing the walls. Looking into one of the rooms she saw a prisoner convulsing on a table, a Sith in inquisitors’ robes burning him with electricity. Imprisoned in the cells were prisoners ranging from republic soldiers to slaves, some banging on the shields with anger and desperation as she passed, but many sat on the floor staring listlessly into space. Aindri neared the holding rooms which were located deep within the jails, backed onto a landing pad were shuttles could load and unload detainees. She blinked when she heard a chirping sound float from the open doorway. The cheerful sound, foreign amongst the anguish permeating the jails, was followed by a more familiar yelp of pain and she entered to find a blue skinned Twi’lek clutching at her neck with a grimace. In front of her cell was a balding Sith, holding a remote control, likely for the shock collar on her neck. “Ow! Jerk,” She groaned and shook head giving the man a wide smile, hands on her hips, even as the annoyance Aindri had felt building showed on his face, “If you don’t like that just say so, I can do other animals too. Dire-cat, frog-dog, Kowakian monkey-lizard, you name it.” Aindri arched an eyebrow in amusement, feeling a slither of admiration at the Twi’lek’s courage. Though not necessarily her recklessness. Roughly her height, the Twi’lek’s lekku lacked Tormi’s tribal tattoos and violet blue eyes held a hidden sense of wisdom which clashed with a sense of mischief. Viewed through the Force, her signature reflected her eyes along with an unbreakable will that Aindri could respect. It made her minded drift to her comment regarding sycophants to Tormi. Gliding near silently across the room, she tapped the Sith lightly on the shoulder and he jumped. He whirled around, and she could now see a beard, staring at her with wide eyes, which narrowed to anger, before widening slightly with a flash of realisation. “You’re the acolyte Tremel sent for the test, right?” He asked uncertainly, and she nodded, leaning against the crates stacked behind her. “And you are Knash.” “Yeah, and I run these cells and slave pits,” He confirmed, crossing his arms and scrutinizing her critically before huffing, “You should know this situation is highly unusual. Tremel must think highly of you to ship in prisoners rather than sending you offworld for interrogation or using the wretches caught here.” Aindri shrugged, if Tremel had pushed for her to come to the Academy early she wasn’t surprised that he willing to circumvent the typical interrogation procedures. He wanted to expedite her trials, he could not afford to send her offworld. “Seems to think you’re the next coming of Exar Kun,” Knash continued, lowering his voice, “But you ought to know he ain’t the only one watching.” “Hardly surprising given the circumstances in which I arrived.” Aindri replied dismissively. Harrumphing Knash led her into a separate room containing three cells, holding three prisoners. A human woman, a bald man in Sith armour and in the far cell, an Neimodian. “These are the prisoners transferred here. You gotta interrogate them as needed and then decide their fate. They’re normally executed or given a trial by combat to see if their worthy. Whatever you decide, you will be the one carrying out the sentence.” Aindri examined the woman in first cell, who was still standing despite being severely beaten, a fresh bruise blooming across her left cheek, and meeting her eyes with a steely gaze. “You freaks aren’t getting anything new out of me,” The woman sneered, “I’ve been through this routine. Just do whatever you’re gonna do.” Knash regard her coolly, “Impudent to the last. She was sent to kill an imperial spy in the Yavin system but throughout her torture, she maintained that she was hired anonymously.” Protecting ones’ identity was standard practice when employing assassins. Refusing to give it made it harder to trace back to you if they failed, however… Analyse every explanation, evaluate every motive, scrutinise every opportunity. “Republic assassins are trained to resist torture.” The assassin scowled, “I’m not political. I work for whoever pays.” There was truth in the assassin’s words and Aindri tilted her head, regarding the assassin thoughtfully as she debated her options. She didn’t deny the charge, but executing her would prove fruitless and she would not be able to defeat her in combat… “Point is she doesn’t deny the charge. So, you must decide execution or trial by combat.” But a third avenue, “She could prove useful, send her to Imperial Intelligence.” There was a gleam in her eyes at the prospect of learning as the assassin crossed her arms, “I won’t work for free.” “You and Intelligence can come to a suitable accord.” She replied smoothly, moving onto the cell and she could feel Knash’s gaze on her back and hear him murmur under his breath. “Interesting.” “Please I am a fellow Sith, judge me with an open mind a grant me trail by combat, I beg you.” “Sith don’t beg.” She rebuked, squashing the small slither of sympathy she felt for him. For a warrior, dying without a weapon in their hand was one of the greatest shames they could endure. She knew because she was the same and if she was to die, it would be fighting with a lightsaber in her hand. Aindri also had no idea who he was or who his friends were or whether his connections were influential. Executing the Sith, rather than ending him with dignity might bring her enemies she did not need. “This pile of waste is Devotek. A valued Sith champion until he botched an important mission and caused a thousand Imperial deaths,” Knash sneered, looking at the Sith with disgust, “Now look at him.” “I served faithfully for twenty-four years then one mistake and they threw me away. Now I have been left here to rot. Please let me feel the weight of a weapon once more.” Reaching for the vibrosword resting against the wall for this exact purpose and nodded for Knash to open the cell. “This should be entertaining.” Knash mused, opening the cell and she tossed Devotek the blade and drew her own, the warblade humming in excitement at the prospect of fresh blood as she adopted a low guarded stance. Gripping the blades’ hilt, Devotek brought it in front of him, murmuring, “My thanks young warrior,” Before raising the vibrosword and bringing the blade down hard. But languishing in the jails had robbed Devotek’s strike of whatever power and speed it once had. Compared to Rance, whose blows had more than once threatened to crack her skull, this was nothing. Stepping back to avoid the blow, Aindri turned on her sharply heel and reversed her blade, thrusting it through his neck, killing him instantly. “Well he didn’t put up much of a fight.” Knash smirked as she removed her blade, the body slumping to the floor. Ignoring the comment and Knash’s smug tone, she re-sheathed her blade in a single fluid motion before turning to the Neimoidian, who sat fidgeting on the floor, “The final criminal?” “Well, he’s a bit of a puzzle. He’s called Brehg, a jittery little wretch. Suspected of supplying forged documents to Republic agents. Strangely enough he maintains his innocence despite being severely tortured.” Brehg scrambled to the bars, pressing his hands against the shields, eyes pleading her for mercy. “That’s because I’m innocent I am! Believe me you gotta! I had nothing to do with forging no papers. Set up, I was set up!” “The evidence is circumstantial,” Knash admitted, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “There is a chance he didn’t do it.” Aindri regarded the Neimoidian, the Force whispering a warning in her ear. There was something off about the alien, but she wasn’t yet skilled enough to tell what it was. Who would frame him? And Why? Such information could potentially be useful for someone else. All she knew was there was more to him than met the eye. He would never leave Korriban anyway. “The Inquisitors. If nothing comes from it, execute him.” Panic alighting in his eyes Brehg begged and pleaded for his release. Scowling at the noise Knash banged on the shield, sending him sprawling to the floor. “Shut up, you fidgety fool, the decision’s been made.” Knash ordered, shooting the alien a look of disgust as Brehg curled up on the floor of his cell whimpering. “You’re an interesting one kid, I can see why people are keeping tabs on you. Head back to Overseer Tremel, and see what he thinks of your choices.” Striding from the holding rooms, she could hear Knash and the Twi’lek resuming their verbal sparring, inevitably followed by a yelping of pain. She thought it a shame such a spirited individual would likely perish in the jails. Climbing the stairs, she left the jails and its oppressive atmosphere, inclining her head in greeting to the acolytes she knew when they passed each other, having made a small circle of friends since her first day, Tormi and Venitas at the centre. Through them she roughly knew of Vemrin’s movements, their rivalry having only grown since their first and second encounters. It was because of this, she knew Vemrin only had one more trial before facing the one that would make him Sith and why Tremel was accelerating her trials. Nearing Tremel’s chambers, she raised an eyebrow at the impatience and frustration, radiating through the Force. A muffled voice she didn’t recognise floating into the hall, its owner likely the reason for his irritation. The door slid open at her approach and Tremel barked a harsh order from within. “Then run back to your master in the beast pens before I cut you in half.” She leaned to the side just as an acolyte rushed past her. Tremel pinched his nose, releasing a sigh of frustration and looked up to see his acolyte waiting just outside the door and waved her in. “Sorry to make you wait acolyte, these interruptions are incredibly annoying.” Letting out a breath, he picked his datapad, standing with a small groan as he stretched his muscles, “Now, your test in the jails. I’ve reviewed your interrogations. The assassin, Solentz – you assigned her to Imperial Intelligence. I commend you that was excellent thinking, never, waste a potential resource.” “It was obvious.” Aindri shrugged, though whether Intelligence would find a use for the woman remained to be seen. “Obvious to you, but many would have just executed her. Now Devotek, the failed warrior, why grant his wish for trial by combat?” She considered her answer briefly, doubting that Tremel would approve of her reason true reason. Besides she did deal with Devotek, so the overseer could hardly complain. “I wanted to see for myself if he had any worth.” It was a half-truth, but if Devotek had beaten her, then she would have found some use for him, potentially as an instructor since he had real combat experience. “That holds some merit,” Tremel conceded, “But it should have been obvious he was far past any use. Devotek was an utter waste of space. Once something is no longer useful it should be eradicated, remember that.” “That is a matter of perspective.” She replied, challenging him to as they held each’s gaze for a moment before he decided to let the matter drop. “Lastly, the forger,” He said delicately, his mouth curling up into a slight sneer, “You sent back for more torture even though he seemed innocent. A strong decision, leave no stone unturned.” Aindri inclined her head, giving him a minute knowing smile. One of the first lessons drilled into her head was thinking of the bigger picture, being decisive, was one of the first lessons to be drilled into her head from an early age. The ripple from even a tiny stone can flow a great distance. Wise her uncle may be, but he could be irritatingly cryptic. It took a while for her to learn the lesson behind that particular riddle. Tremel hummed in approval, “Each time, each prisoner, you made the best possible decision. You may yet be able to challenge Vemrin for Darth Bara’s attention. But there’s more that must be done before we expose you to Baras.” Tremel leaned back against the desk, tapping its surface in thought. “Because I forced you into the Academy ahead of schedule, Darth Baras will be predisposed to judging you severely. And by ‘severely’ I mean fatally.” Aindri suppressed a snort at the rather obvious statement. It was natural that a Darth would be judgemental in choosing an apprentice and the whole idea behind having ones’ trials on Korriban was would either become Sith or die. Fatal, was a given. “Go, train and grow stronger. It will take time to find something will truly test your abilities.”

Chapter Four – The Sith Academy Aindri woke up on her first full day at the Academy to the sound of clattering as acolytes got up and prepared for the day ahead. Stretching out her limbs she got dressed and wandered into the refresher, splashing her face with cold water before inspecting her reflection in the mirror. Satisfied with her new attire, redder and vital areas reinforced with tough dark brown leather, she grabbed her warblade and headed down to breakfast, her roommates having already left. It was still early enough that the Academy’s dining hall was a little over half empty when Aindri entered, sweeping the room with her eyes, searching for but unable to find Tormi, though she could see her fellow roommates scattered amongst the tables. Shrugging she went to get breakfast and sat at a largely empty table, managing to set down her tray without spilling her juice. Tearing off a piece off her bread roll, she chewed thoughtfully, watching those who were now her fellow acolyte’s stream into the hall. Categorising those passing her into hostile and non-hostile, she wondered whether anyone she had known from Ziost or Dromund Kass had come to the Academy but found to her disappointment, and somewhat of a relief, that there were none. Drawn away from people watching by a rattle, Aindri looked to see a male pureblood, a couple of inches taller with broad shoulders and a more overtly muscular physique, slide into the seat opposite her. A few loose strands of otherwise closely cropped black hair fell in front of his eyes and as he lounged back in his chair to look at her, his movements were smooth and confident, matching black tunic and pants allowing him easy freedom of movement. “So, you’re the new acolyte, whose Tremel added to Vemrin’s group and for your trials to boot,” The pureblood gave her an easy-going smile as he looked at warblade resting against the table leg, “And it seems the rumours that you’ve already completed your first were true. You should have seen Vemrin in training yesterday. He was, pissed. Barely been here a day and your already making waves.” Aindri arched an eyebrow at the pureblood who started on his own food before pausing and looking up at her, “And where are my manners. Venitas.” “My name is Venitas.” The pureblood clarified upon her blank look and she replied, inclining her head in greeting. “Aindri.” “Congratulations,” Came Tormi’s voice from behind her and she tipped her head back to see the Twi’lek walking past before sliding into the seat next to her, giving them a chesire grin, “You managed to find the one half-decent pureblood to roam the academies halls.” “You give me too little credit Tormi,” Venitas sighed, “I am the only decent pureblood.” “Fine,” Tormi replied drawled, sipping at her mug of steaming caf, “You are the only decent pureblood. Which means to say you are a terrible one.” Aindri watched with amusement as the two interacted, which continued even as exited the dining hall for the archives, halls bustling with acolytes who were making their way to whatever lesson they had that morning. She drew more than one curious stare as they passed, a few pointing at her and whispering. “Well you are essentially skipping the whole academy. Most people are here for years before they’re even considered to take the trials.” Venitas explained and she learned that along with going straight into her trials she was also grouped with the senior acolytes for lessons. Both Tormi and Venitas were senior acolytes as they had been attending the academy for a few of years. “My Overseers’ Prithor,” Venitas told her, their conversation moving onto Overseers and those currently searching for an apprentice, “Lord Medechas tasked him with looking for an apprentice and I was one of the lucky ones to get picked. Tormi’s trials are being administered by Harkun for Lord Zash” Tormi’s face morphed into a scowl before her ever present smile once again appeared on her face, the change so quick Aindri thought she had imagined it, and raised an eyebrow at the Twi’lek. “The xenocentric chauvinist?” Aindri asked, recalling what she had said in the tomb. “Oh, I could call him any number of things. But not all of them are suitable for polite company.” She replied, Venitas chuckling behind her as they walked through the archives’ dark ornately carved doors. Containing century’s worth of Sith knowledge, the archives took up an entire wing of the Academy. Deeper in, was an open atrium where one could see the archives second floor ringed by a low balcony. Acolytes and the odd overseer pursued shelves full of holobooks, datapads, ancient tombs, worn stone tablets and holocrons, glowing faintly with crimson and violet hues. Individual desks and large tables equipped with chairs, some occupied others not, were placed strategically across the onyx floor. Corridors branched of the sides of the main room, leading to several teaching rooms. Entering the room reserved for their lesson, Aindri could hear snippets of conversation from chattering acolytes and spotted Vemrin who scowled at her from across the room, ignoring his not so subtle growl. Beside her Tormi stumbled slightly, a pureblood bumping her shoulder as he pushed past, and she was silent as she glared daggers at his receding back. Aindri arched an eyebrow at the Twi’lek when she sensed a ripple of power in the force and through the door strode a rugged skinned Sith with dark brown hair. “It’s Lord Cestus,” Venitas whispered to them, “I’d forgotten he was asked to teach whilst he was here.” “I thought he was came to Korriban for research?” Tormi whispered back and Venitas gave a small nod. “He did, I think he’s going on a research trip tomorrow.” Silence descended as Cestus stepped onto a dais at the back of the room, many watching him with bated breath, wondering what kind of secrets and knowledge a Sith Lord would impart on them. He coolly regarded the acolytes before him and his answer to anticipation with an answer was not what they expected, “Meditation.” The acolytes let out a collective groan and Cestus glared at them, daring someone to speak up. Glancing at each other, Aindri shrugged and sunk down into a meditative position, closing her eyes as Venitas and Tormi did the same. Cestus cast a watchful eye over the acolytes who sat in various poses. “Contrary to popular belief, Sith do meditate. But unlike the Jedi,” Cestus spat, “We do not release our emotions into the force, rather we harness them, concentrate them into a finely-honed point…” Cestus’s voice grew distant as Aindri slowed her breath, submerging herself into the Force. Focusing on her emotions, Aindri allowed them to build upon on each other, honing them, as Cestus instructed, into a pure point of ruthless power. Turning her senses outward, she felt the presences of Cestus and the other acolytes, four standing out in particular. A strong immovable force, crackling electrical energy, simmering hatred, and deep-seated fear. Expanding her senses further she could feel whole of the academy and the Force signatures of numerous acolytes and Sith inhabiting the building. Letting go of her senses completely Aindri floated freely in the Force and the darkness permeating Korriban’s entirety. Aindri’s eyes flickered open, her enhanced eyesight allowing her to trace the bumps and groves of the back walls rough surface. Two armoured legs appeared in front of her and she blinked before looking up to see Cestus standing over her, his arms crossed. “Well, well, well, looks whose back,” Cestus said slowly, “Any longer and I would become suspicious that you’d fallen asleep.” Looking around Aindri found that apart from her Tormi was the only one still meditating, tendrils of dark side energy coiling around her. Opening her eyes, the Twi’lek stretched languorously as if she had woken up from a long and much needed nap. “Most, impressive acolyte.” Cestus admitted grudgingly, looking her over with a small hint of interest, and Tormi smiled smugly at the other acolytes, the pureblood and Vemrin seething among them. “Congratulations to those three of you who successfully achieved a meditative state,” Aindri wondered who else had succeeded but a quick observation of her fellow acolytes made the answer obvious, a small smirk on Venitas’s face. “Especially since the rest of you didn’t even stay focused for more than a few minutes.” Cestus kept his voice controlled, but with her senses enhanced from submerging herself in the Force she could feel his building anger and frustration. “But, my lord, they must have cheated. A former…” The pureblood stood objecting, Vemrin using it as an opportunity to add his own. “That’s right! There’s no chance that someone who took shortcu…” “Silence!” Vemrin and the pureblood flinched, as they watched in amusement. “Neither of you have a right to whine,” Cestus growled at them, before glaring at Vemrin, “Especially you acolyte, since you fell asleep within ten minutes of starting!” He shouted before rounding on the rest of them. “I will not waste my time teaching such pathetic excuse for Sith. Don’t return until you’ve had another good ten years of practice!” Cestus stormed from the room, muttering something unsavoury about womp rats and acolytes under his breath. Cestus’s presence fading from their senses, conversation broke out among the acolytes and Vemrin stalked towards her with a tight scowl. “You may have fooled Cestus but not me,” He growled, “You are nothing. I am the better Sith. Get in my way and you die.” Arching an eyebrow at his declaration she turned to Venitas and asked, “What was Cestus researching?” Realising what she was doing, Venitas’s eyes twinkled in amusement, tilting his head in thought for a moment before replying, “Not sure. He’s been visiting a lot of the tombs outside of the Valley though.” “Acolytes are never sent to tombs outside the Valley of the Dark Lords,” Said Tormi joining in the conversation, and sighed dreamily, “Oh the secrets they must hold.” Vemrin’s rage built as he continued to be ignored and he opened his mouth to speak, only to clamp it shut again when the temperature dropped, and grey eyes bled to yellow. Drawing on her emotions, Aindri regarded her supposed rival with a cold smile, the dark side flaring around her. Everything grew deadly quiet, acolytes ceasing their conversations and turning their attention to the two red-headed acolyte standing metres away from Vemrin, pinning him with a deadly stare. An acolyte considered to be one of the strongest in the Academy and closest to being Sith. Her voice was menacing yet held on emotion when she spoke, “You are the one who is nothing and I will, beat, you, down.” Satisfaction coursed through Aindri’s veins at the fear filling Vemrin’s eyes, however briefly, before it was replaced by rage. She didn’t flinch as they locked gazes and he tried to stare her down. It was Vemrin who broke eye contact first growling, and she watched as he stomped from the room in a way which reminded Aindri of a child throwing a tantrum. Aindri drew a deep calming breath, the palpable tension in the air dissipating as the dark side receded, her eyes reverting to their natural grey. Tormi giggled behind her and gave her a wink, sauntering over to the pureblood. Cocking her head, Aindri watched with a mixture of interest and amusement as Tormi leaned down to say something in his ear. Her voice, while too low to carry over to where they were standing, was loud enough that the acolytes near him laughed. His red skin grew darker and Tormi gave him one last smile before waltzing from the room. They were halfway down the hallway when they heard the purebloods roar of rage echoing down the corridor. “Slow, isn’t he?” Tormi snickered. “He certainly is,” Venitas chuckled before his voice turned teasing, “Now if I remember correctly we have lightsaber instruction.” “What fun.” Tormi groaned and Aindri arched an eyebrow at her, glancing at Venitas who gave a fond shake of his head. It seemed this argument was a common one. “Tormi you know Lightsaber combat is a vital skill for a Sith.” Venitas admonished and the Twi’lek rolled her eyes. “I prefer brain over brawn,” She snorted, “Speaking off, I want to get something from the Archives. See you down there.” Waving goodbye, Tormi walked deeper into the archives and they head to the dining hall for lunch. * Venitas had given her a brief explanation of the academies facilities, the archives, jails located in the bowls of the Academy, training rooms, rooms which could only be reserved for Sith Lords and their apprentices. Where they had lightsaber training was in none of those. Exiting a gloomy corridor, Aindri’s boots hit hard packed sand and she squinted, her eyes adjusting to glaring sunlight. They were standing in a massive open-air arena, practice dummies in various states of disrepair littering its floor. On a large stage, two older acolytes duelled furiously under the watchful gaze of an older man, lightsaber hanging on his hip, their overseer. She shivered slightly, the dark side making the planets’ atmosphere cold despite Horuset beating down on them from above. “It will be finished soon.” Venitas mused and Aindri silently agreed, examining the left acolytes’ heaving chest and slowing movements. A loud crack echoed across the arena and the exhausted acolytes’ training saber, he had yet to earn the right to wield a warblade, clattered to the floor, as his wrist fractured. Though they couldn’t hear him, the overseer was obviously unhappy, the injured acolyte limping off the stage with his hung in shame, resentment roiling underneath the surface. Aindri had no doubt it was that very resentment which kept him trudging across the sand. The overseer regarded them as they gathered around the stage, frowning briefly as his gaze on landed on her. “I see we have a new face. Try to keep up, with the rest.” She regarded him coolly but did not speak as doing so would only invite further barbs. She would prove herself through actions, as she always did. “Hmph. Five laps around the arena,” Most let out a groan and he snapped, “Now!” Jumping to attention the acolytes set off at a steady jog and she stayed in the middle of the pack, so that by the third lap when weaker acolytes fell behind she was one of those who pulled ahead. By the fifth lap her lungs were burning slightly and reaching the final stretch she drew on the pain in her muscles to fuel her strength, putting on a final burst of speed. Aindri was the first to finish and began stretching out her muscles, Vemrin glaring at her as he came to stop, the overseer watching their exchange with cold interest as he waited for the other acolytes to finish the course. Venitas easily finished within the top ten, whilst Tormi finished sixteenth, her pureblood adversary only seconds ahead of her. “Let’s see if any of you pathetic lot have improved since last time.” He growled when the last acolyte staggered slightly to a halt and pointed each of them to a training dummy, assigning hers last. “So, you’re Tremel’s supposed hotshot; let me be clear,” He leaned forward, intruding into her personal space, “Why you were brought to the Academy early I don’t care. Until I see your skills for myself, you are nothing.” He turned on his heel and walked off, shouting at a pair of acolytes on the other side of the arena. “He doesn’t like me much.” She observed and Vemrin chuckled. “Most of overseers don’t like any of us. Especially Rance. Unfortunately for you he does like Vemrin.” “Off course.” She muttered under her breath as she took up Shii-Cho’s opening stance, her mind wandering as she worked through the forms katas, falling into the familiar rhythm. “Uncle you promised to teach me the advanced skills!” I shout, clenching and unclenching my fists around the training sabers hilt, not caring if I sounded like a spoiled child. I’d already trained in and near mastered lightsaber combats first three forms – everybody said my growth rate was astounding – and he had promised to teach me the others. I was ready. “Because I said you do you brat.” “Why?” I asked through gritted teeth, trying to remain calm and not doing a very good job at it. Uncle let out a sigh and eased himself out his starting stance before turning to me and began correcting my form. “Because before learning the advance forms you need to master the basics.” He replied. Distantly she heard Rance order them to switch stance and she flowed from a disarming slash to execute a lunge, stabbing through the dummies chest area. “But I’ve already mastered the basics!” I shouted venomously, growing even more annoyed when he laughed. “It is always good to return to them.” I dropped my guard and scowled at him, continuing do so even as he was regarding me thoughtfully. “Alright how about this then? Continue practicing and if, in a week, you can defeat me in a duel using Shii-Cho, and only Shii-Cho, then I’ll begin teaching you the advance forms.” The scowl disappeared from my face as my anger was replaced with excitement. “Really?” Uncle smiled and nodded. With a goal to work towards I looked at my training saber with renewed determination and took Form I’s starting stance, now fully focused on my training. Aindri blinked away the memory when she heard Rance calling them to a halt, and she glanced up to a darkening sky, hours flying by whilst acolytes bashed away at the dummies. “Seems some of you aren’t useless after all.” Rance grunted, giving her a subtle nod of approval when he caught her eye before doing the same with Vemrin, much to her annoyance. Rance dismissed them and she followed tired acolytes eagerly leaving the arena, overtaking Tormi whose breathing was somewhat heavy due to exertion. They joined the flow of acolytes in bustling hallways, some conversing in low tones, others keeping their heads down and trying to slip unseen through the crowd. Aindri piled her plate high with food and sat at an empty table, Venitas lowering himself into the seat opposite her. Biting into a piece of Nerf stake, she searched the dining hall for Tormi, spying her across the dining hall strolling towards them. “Where have you been?” Asked Venitas as the Twi’lek as she slumped down next to her. “Archives,” Tormi replied grumpily, “But I couldn’t find the texts I was looking for.” “If you couldn’t find them, then the Archives don’t have it,” Venitas said calmly, sending Aindri a smirk, “Considering she knows very inch of it.” “They might be in one of the tombs,” Tormi mused, a trace of hope working its way into her voice, “Cestus is meant to be investigating the Sith King Dathka Graush’s tomb in Golg Valley tomorrow though. You think Cestus will take me with him?” “Probably not.” Venitas commented as he bit into his food. “Damn, damn, damn, damn.” Tormi moaned rolling across the table and Aindri quickly picked up her trays before the Twi’lek could knock them from the table. “Lessons too hard for you slave?” A shadow fell over the table and Aindri turned her head, to see the pureblood looking down on Tormi who had fallen still. “Ah Ffon, how nice to see you so soon.” Tormi drawled pushing herself upwards to stand and tapped her lip with a slender finger, “Hard, you say? More like useless, the archives don’t even have the proper texts.” Pausing, Tormi cocked her hip and smiled at the pureblood slyly, “Ah but given you’re…‘privileged’ upbringing, I’m sure that mummy and daddy gave you everything and so,” Tormi entered his personal space, hands held loosely at her sides, but Aindri could see sparks dancing between her fingertips. “When your own strength is finally tested, you’ll be on the floor, bleeding, dying, and I’ll be standing over you, laughing.” Twisting, Tormi sauntered away leaving Ffon there speechless, skinning darkening and nearby acolytes snickering. Aindri lips quirked upwards and she pushed away from the table, just brushing past his shoulder as she passed him. “Well, at least we won’t at a loss for entertainment. Tormi’s as interesting as ever.” Venitas chuckled as they exited the dining hall. “How long has she been here?” Aindri asked curiously. “Three years, give or take. We arrived at the same time. Overseer Harkun wasn’t particularly happy she was placed under his supervision. What with her being both an alien and a former slave.” “Elitist?” She guessed, remembering Tormi’s words. “Through and through.” Venitas confirmed, “He delayed her trials for as long as possible but Zash finally ordered him to get a move on. She’s only been able to do her first recently though since she had been sent to do off training offworld for a few months.” Aindri hummed before bidding him goodnight and slipped away to one of the private training chambers littering this level, trusting that most would be empty at this hour. Pressing the key of one of the small doors lining the corridor, it slid open with a near silent hiss. Rather than hard packed sand, the chambers’ floor was made of flexisteel to cushion impacts and training blade hits, though under artificial yellow lighting she could see scratch and scorch marks littering the surface. Rolling her shoulders, Aindri unsheathed her blade and approached the chambers centre, once again adopting Shii-Cho’s initial stance. Slowly, she worked her through its sweeping motions and perpendicular parries before moving onto the tighter more accurate movements of Makashi and beyond. Finishing the katas, she switched to mock-combat, taking her warblade through a series of manoeuvres, striking at imaginary enemies. Every feint, every dodge, every block is a trap to the unwary. She stepped, pivoted, took a new angle for attack, her boots stepping lightly as she flowed between the forms. Occasionally her flow faltered, a misplaced foot here, awkward positioning as she tried to connect manoeuvres there. But she continued until she was somewhat satisfied, movements refining with every strike. Pausing in her movements, Aindri removed her right hand from the warblades hilt and twisted to check her chrono. Seeing the time, she had been in the chamber for almost two hours, she lowered her blade deactivating it as she relaxed her stance. Sheathing it in one fluid motion, she wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve and headed for her dorm, once busy hallways now quiet, nightfall seeming to have strengthened the shadows perpetually clinging to their edges. Those she roomed with were still awake and Tormi gave her a lazy wave from where she laid on her bed, reading a something on her datapad when she entered. Preparing for bed after taking a shower to wash away the days sweat, Aindri thought back on her first day at the academy. The allies she had made in Venitas and Tormi, their presences in the Force, Vemrin and the Twi’leks own rival Ffon. Her face remained neutral even as she inwardly frowned, if Venitas was correct – and there was no reason he should not be – news of her arrival had already become a source of gossip. Gossip of which she had no doubt, had already reached the ears of whoever Tremel was playing. But, she could do nothing about it tonight. Connecting her datapad to the academies mainframe, she brought up the Imperial HoloNet, catching up on the recent news and checking to see if her uncle had sent any messages before falling into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Three – Friends and Rivals Aindri tipped her head back and breathed deeply, enjoying the fresh air which was a welcome change from the stale dead atmosphere of the tomb. The pink streaked sky was darkening and the stars becoming more prominent, signifying the coming of nightfall. Near invisible grains of windblown sand swirled around her feet as she trudged up the small dune, stopping when she found herself staring at the towering pyramidal structure that was the Sith Academy. Rising high above the Valley of the Dark Lords, the Academy was an impressive and intimidating structure. A monument to the power of the dark side and the might of the Empire. Mirror smooth black stone, held aloft by the backs of two statues of kneeling slaves, stretched for over a kilometre either side of rough-hewn stairs, Korriban’s setting sun casting the towering pyramid’s long shadow across the valley. It was, Aindri thought, completely suited to its role as a dark fortress where acolytes came to succeed at their trials or die. Off to her left near the base were a small collection of standard issue military tents with half a dozen or so troopers getting ready for sleep. Recalling the name Sergeant Rikel from the datapad in the tomb, she crossed the sands and approached one of the troopers, a barrel-chested man who was cleaning his rifle, looking up as she approached. “Acolyte. I see you had a bloodthirsty day in the tomb. Sergeant Rikel at your service.” He said, saluting her. “I have taken care of the looters in the tomb.” She informed him and his eyes grew distant as he read between the lines. “Then I assume my men are dead?” He asked quietly, a sense of loss echoing in his voice. “They died protecting the Empires’ history.” “That they did, sir,” He replied and nodded at the bag on her shoulder, “If I may, you should bring those directly to Lord Graas in the archives. He’s the senior curator, and will want to take a look.” “Then I will do so, farewell Sergeant.” Aindri turned and headed towards the Academy steps, Sith of various stations – though most were acolytes like herself – walking up and down the stairs as they travelled to and from the academy. For a brief moment she stopped at the first step and inhaled deeply, breathing in the cold evening air and basking in the all-encompassing presence of the Dark Side. It had always been a privilege to face the Sith Trials here, potential students throughout Imperial space competed for the honour of studying within those halls. And she was one of them. Aindri brought her right foot to rest on the first step and then her left onto the second. All the training, all the effort, every cut, scrape and bruise had lead up to this moment. Learning about the Force, the Sith and the military. She walked slowly, reverently, up the rugged steps, those she passed giving her little notice, many having seen more than one bloodied acolytes coming and going from the tombs. Walking passed the enormous doors that stood a dozen metres tall, shadows dancing across the already dark walls of the entranceway, Aindri entered the Academy. A large pillar bisected the entrance, a single blood red imperial flag, flanked either side by twin statues of the Emperor, flowing down the middle. The hallway flowed around the pillar, additionally statues of the Emperor grouped together in the centre of the opposite wall, blood red flags hanging behind them. Where the two halves of the hallways merged was a small hallway flanked by a pair of Imperial Guardsmen, clad head to toe in rich crimson robes, their vibrostaves held at attention. The guards stood like the statues that they stood between, silent and unmoving, and her presence bringing no reaction nor deviation from their duties. As Aindri walked past them, she feel could their eyes watching her from behind the cold durasteel visors of their helmets. The archway at the end of the hallway opened to the main hall of the Academy, the low ceiling giving way to a high vaulted one from which hung crimson banners emblazoned with the Empires symbol. Various corridors lead off the main hall and laying just beyond an obelisk were two curvilinear staircases, set at opposites ends of the hall, which lead up to the academies upper levels. But it was the obelisk that stood in the centre of the immense room which drew Aindri’s attention, and took her breath away. Carved into the stone were the faces of the vanquished, their expressions contorted and screaming in agony, and a thin mist seemed to seep from the stone itself as darkness coiled around it. Aindri walked up to the obelisk in somewhat of a trance like state as her eyes traced the lines of ancient Sith symbols etched into the edges of the monument. Fear conquers, fear fuels, fear cripples. An ancient Sith phrase, subtlety reminding acolytes of the power gained through fear and crushing their rivals underfoot, yet also the danger that fear presented should one allow it to control them. The soft slap of feet against stone, snapped her out of her trance and out of the corner of her eye Aindri spied a lone acolyte walking across the hall, head bent and muttering something murderous to himself. Catching his elbow as he walked past, the acolyte stumbled and he whirled around to shout at her before paling slightly at her blood-stained clothes. “Overseer Tremels chambers?” The acolyte glanced quickly down at her clothes before pointing to the left-hand corridor and mumbled something about turning left, the end of a corridor and going down a set of stairs before quickly excusing himself. Aindri arched an eyebrow at the acolytes’ retreating back as he scurried away before heading for the archway he’d pointed out and turning left. Walking down the corridor, she felt a growing chill as the air seeped with malice and her hand drifted to the hilt of her warblade as she reached the top of a small flight of stairs, where she could see two acolytes talking to each other at the bottom. The acolyte on the left tall and overtly muscular, his grey outer tunic stretched tightly across his shoulders, and a tattoo that took up almost the entire right side of his face meant to broadcast a threatening demeanour. But it was the smaller acolytes, his clothing darker and more armoured than his counterpart, tightly contained violence roiling below the surface which set her instincts flaring. He was more powerful, the bigger threat of the two, the Force hanging lazy and sluggish over his companion. His position as the alpha predator was only confirmed by warblade that the shorter one carried and the lack of one on his larger counterpart. Wary, but her curiosity piqued, Aindri descended the stairs in near silence and the two acolytes looked up as she approached, but she ignored them and was about to walk past when the smaller one stopped her. “So, you’re Overseer Tremel’s secret weapon huh?” Said the acolyte his tone sarcastic as he looked her up and down, examining her as she did him, “Impressive, to be sure. Afraid the old man waited too long to make his move though.” Something clicked and Aindri now knew exactly who the other acolyte was and she looked upon her supposed rival with renewed interest. “I’m Vemrin, and unlike you I’ve fought and bled for everything I have. I demand respect.” She quickly assessed the newcomer, whose anger and hatred coiled in the Force around him but there was also something else. Buried deep beneath the surface to the point that it was almost unnoticeable, she could feel a sense of insecurity pervading his signature. Overall, it may seem like he had potential but she wasn’t impressed. Only a fool demanded respect rather than proving it was deserved. “Respect is earned,” Aindri stated matter-of-factly, “And you have not earned mine.” “This is ridiculous, Vemrin. Let’s just kill her and hide the body.” Suggested the other acolyte eagerly. She casted a quick glance in the larger acolytes’ direction and released a snort of derision. Clearly Vemrin had brought him for his brawn rather than his brains, if she didn’t find Vemrin a worthy opponent then there was little hope for his lapdog. “We’re not on Balmorra anymore, Dolgis. There are rules, traditions,” He chided his ally before eying her and waving dismissively, “Leave the shortcuts to Overseer Tremel and his last pathetic hope here.” Aindri regarded her new rival emotionlessly refusing to give him any leeway; at least she now had a face to put to a name. Vemrin growled and turned to his counterpart, “Coming Dolgis?” “Be right there Vemrin.” Dolgis replied as Vemrin walked off without a backwards glance while Aindri watched his retreating back. She doubted she would face him directly for a while. He striked her as more of a schemer and he would most likely send someone to test the waters first. “Listen to me, you useless priss.” She turned back to Dolgis and she knew that out of the two he would be the one she would face first. “Acolytes aren’t allowed to murder each other. But accidents happen. It isn’t murder without witnesses.” He stepped closer so that he was staring down at her. “No more warnings,” He growled, “Vemrin’s the alpha monster here. You go after Vemrin, you die,” She regarded him with the same emotionless expression and Dolgis growled once more before stalking off. Tremel, who had heard everything from inside his chambers, threw his door open wide to see Acolyte Hallow turning towards him, calm and unruffled at the whole exchange as the echoes of Doglis’ footsteps faded. He wrinkled his nose slightly at the stench of blood but otherwise noted with approval that she was all in one piece. Gesturing her into the room, he closed the door behind them to make sure that they wouldn’t be disturbed. He couldn’t leave his door open for more than a minute and not have somebody barge in for something or other. “Good, you’re here. Tell me, how do you like your new blade?” “It will be sufficient.” Aindri answered as she set the bag carrying the relics down at her feet. It wasn’t a lightsaber but it would serve her well during her time on Korriban. Tremel chuckled at her stoic demeanour. He was impressed by the control that she had over her emotions, catching her satisfaction with the blade before it was squashed with a self-reminder that it was only the first step in her trials. Tremel’s gaze travelled past her as he sensed the arrival of his daughter and the look upon her face when she entered the room indicated that she was in a foul mood. So much for no interruptions. Aindri felt the newcomer’s presence before she heard her, annoyance rippling through the Force. Smoothly stepping to the side, the newcomer stalked into the room and directly to Tremel. Her eyes flitted between the two, but Tremel didn’t look worried, and if he wasn’t worried then there was no reason for her to be. “What are you doing father?” As Tremel and the newcomer argued, about something that was clearly a family issue, she took the chance to look at the daughter more closely and could see the resemblance. They had similar skin tones and the same black hair, the main difference were the three scars running across the left side of the daughters face and that she wore the same robes as acolytes rather than battle armour. “I have my reasons, Eskella. And you will not breathe a word of this to anyone. Do you hear?” Tremel told her an air of finality to his voice. Eskella glared at her father and clenched her fists, “I will keep quiet about your new charge father, but I won’t be here if whatever you’re planning blows up in your face.” She snapped before storming from the room, the Force snapping around her in testament to her foul mood. “My daughter, Eskella,” Tremel said drily as he watched his daughter leave, this being a semi-regular occurrence. He cared for his daughter, and she was strong, but her inability to adapt would one-day lead to her to cross the wrong person and he worried for her. “Now to business, I thought I heard Vemrin’s voice in the corridor before you arrived. Did he make his move so soon?” Aindri shook her head, “A warning.” “Good, good, he must not fully comprehend the threat you represent,” Tremel smiled before frowning, “Still, I’d hope we’d had more time. Vemrin’s not the type to sniff around for too long before trying to take a bite.” Sitting down Tremel leaned forward and regarded the acolyte before him and decided it was time to enlighten her of the role she was to play. “In a drive for sheer numbers, the criteria for admittance has been relaxed and now anyone with Force sensitivity is allowed entrance. Vemrin is one such acolyte. He is mixed blood, the invisible rot eating at the foundation of the Empire. He must not be allowed to advance.” She kept her face neutral, even though she didn’t agree with Tremel about the Empires xenocentric policies, and her uncle was nothing if not pragmatic, careful to beat any such thoughts out of her and self-awareness of her strengths, her weakness and her desires into her. The Sith way was power and strength, whether human or an alien, ones species hardly dictated such things. But she refrained from voice such thoughts aloud, now was hardly the time for a philosophically debate with the overseer and she needed to remain on Tremels good side for the time being. “Unfortunately, Vemrin’s caught the eye of Darth Baras, one of the most influential Sith Lords and is being groomed to be his new apprentice.” Understanding dawned on her, so this what Tremel was planning and both she and Vemrin were pawns in a game of his making. She had neither the desire nor patience for Sith politics and though she didn’t show it, she was worried. Another acolyte she could handle, but a Darth was another thing entirely, especially if it was Baras who carried a certain, reputation. He would have contingency upon contingency in place if as little as suspected that Tremel was plotting something… but she kept her face neutral as this was a game she could not afford to lose. “As Darth Bara’s apprentice, the power at Vemrin’s fingertips will be considerable. He could change the Sith for the worse.” Tremel reached down and removed a datapad from his desk. “Whilst you are here you will receive training along with the rest of the acolytes. I’m transmitting everything that you need in relation to your training whilst you are here to your datapad, including your class schedule. Everything else you can get from the quartermaster whose office is on the second floor near the dormitories.” Aindri removed a datapad from a within her robe and saw that she had received a message from Tremel and downloaded the data he had sent, which she also saw included her dormitory. She nodded and pocketed her pad before looking up at Tremel. “Overseer, before I leave, I would ask, where are the archives?” She asked, nodding towards the bag at her feet, “I recovered these relics from the tomb and would like to pass them onto the curator.” “You can find the archives on the second floor, Lord Graas’s officer is in the back on its third floor,” He informed and there was a gleam in his eyes as his gaze meet hers, “You have a great destiny ahead of you acolyte, train hard. I will call for you when it is time for your next trial.” * Aindri walked down corridor on the second floor of Academies east wing, metal floor ringing softly under her footfalls as she checked room numbers against the one on her datapad for her dorm. The bag she now carried, having dropped off the relics with the gratitude of Lord Grass, contained the spare robes and toiletries she’d been given by the quartermaster. Shaking her head at the thought of the elderly Sith who had complained about her time keeping, she stopped in front of a door of the room that she’d been assigned to. From beyond the door she could hear someone shout and a loud clatter and when the door slid open she raised an eyebrow at the scene before her. One of the acolytes, a hulking brute of a woman, had slammed another against the wall and was holding them by their collar with one hand, whilst the other was drawn back fisted. The one being held was glaring and hurling insults at her attacker, causing the large acolyte to growl. Quickly losing interest in what seemed to be a simple playground squabble, which given the academies reputation a fistfight was, she looked beyond the fighting acolytes to inspect her new room. “So, you did survive then.” Called out a voice in a drawling tone which she immediately associated with a certain red-skinned Twi’lek, who was sitting on one of the far beds, the other acolytes fell silent as their heads swivelled towards her. The larger acolyte dropped the smaller one in a favour of looking her up and down, whilst the other acolyte, a human with greasy black hair, sniffed the air before scowling. “She stinks.” Aindri arched an eyebrow at the acolyte and Tormi rolled her eyes. “So, would you if you just had just gone through the tombs, Leena. I certainly did when I came back.” Tormi drawled and the smaller acolyte harrumphed before the Twi’lek looked at her, “But she’s right, you do stink. Refreshers through that door,” Said Tormi who pointed to a small doorway in the right-hand wall before pointing to a vacant bed near her own, “And that’s your bed. Its previous owner died two months ago in an ‘accident’.” Aindri tilted her head in question for a moment, but didn’t comment, before nodding and walking towards the bed. Dumping the bag on the well-made sheets, she removed one her new tunics before entering the refresher. Looking in the mirror which took up the whole of the wall above a long sink, she grimaced for what felt like the umpteenth time at the state of her clothes. She silently thanked the Emperor that she the presence of mind to tie her hair up before entering the tomb, she found early on getting blood, amongst other fluids, and pieces of being out of hair was never pleasant. She strode for the nearest shower, stripping off her clothes as she walked and tossing them into the trash chute where they could be incinerated, and turned on the water stepping into it. Aindri let her head fall back and sighed with delight as the hot water hit her skin. She revelled in being able to scrub the ichor from her skin and she stepped out feeling a lot more human than when she went in. Drying herself off, she threw her tunic and padded back into the dorm room feeling a lot more relaxed. “Much better.” Aindri looked at Tormi who was now sitting on the end of her bed and looked from her to her bag and back again before raising an eyebrow. “That it? I take it you would have more, that or you used to be a slave which I really doubt.” “Training here on Korriban is the start of my life as a Sith. I don’t need my old possessions and the academy provides everything I could need.” Tormi looked at her in disbelief, “Seriously?” Shaking her head when she nodded, “Well whatever. Just came to say that it’s lights out soon.” Nodding her thanks and bidding Tormi goodnight with the same gesture, Aindri knelt down and touched the panel of the draw that was underneath the bed, moving the contents of the bag to the now open draw. She also locked away her puzzle cube, which she’d moved from her robe to the bag earlier, along with the bag itself. The only thing that wasn’t in the draw when she locked it was her datapad, which she used to flip through her schedule for the foreseeable future before tiredness overcame her and she fell asleep.

Chapter Two – Venturing into the Tombs Green ichor sprayed across her clothes, the K’lor’slug that Aindri had struck down with an overhead blow, her blade whistling through the air, let out a high pitched squeal. She was only halfway across the mortuary courtyard, and already her clothes were covered in blood and sand. Sand which had tasted the blood of thousands and all that remained of those who’d fallen in the relentless and cruel climb meant to test the limits of ones’ power. Fingering her tunic, she curled her lip in disgust and hoped that the academy had spares. Many spares. Flicking the blood from her vibrosword, she surveyed the rest of the courtyard, keeping an eye on the K’lor’slugs that skittered across bright red sand. The beasts where, like she expected, completely vicious. Vermicular bodies propelled themselves, undulating across the sand where maws filled with endless rows of teeth, rotated antipodally as they threatened to tear careless acolytes limb from limb and devour them whole. Driven by the smell of blood and the dying shriek of their foul brethren, a group of K’lor’slugs slithered towards her. Vaulting over the swipe of a talon from the creature nearest to her, she landed in a crouch in the middle of the group and spun as she rose so that her blade sliced through the things tough skin in a single motion. She had only travelled a few more steps when another two K’lor’slugs slinked towards her and thrust her blade forward in a low stab, sweeping it upwards to cut through the creatures torso and maw. Aindri raised her vibrosword to strike at the second K’lor’slug only to duck when she heard a familiar crackling behind her. A bolt of purple lightning arched over her head, striking the K’lor’slug square in its torso and it fell to the floor convulsing. Spinning, Aindri stepped forward and brought her blade to rest at the throat of her attacker. Aindri arched an eyebrow at the curious sight before her. Her assailant, was a red skinned Twi’lek in a long purple tunic and black leggings, which hugged the curves of her figure. Black tribal markings were tattooed across the length of her long lekku and she wondered what the tattoos symbolised. A vibrosword was strapped to her back, and sparks still danced around slender fingertips, which where currently raised in front of her face. She was strong with the Force, that much was obvious at glance, and almond-shaped eyes examined her with an intelligent and calm calculating gaze. This, Aindri observed was a woman who promised equal parts pain and pleasure and could undoubtedly get any man or woman to spill their darkest secrets. “What?” The Twi’lek asked as drew her hand back to inspect her finger nails and Aindri arched an eyebrow at the fellow acolytes flippancy, considering the blade at her throat. “You are an alien,” She commented, it was rare after all for non-humans or non-purebloods to attend the Academy given the Siths’ xenocentrism and obsession with the purity of Sith teachings and tradition. “How observant,” The Twi’lek drawled though she gained a sharper glint in her eyes when she looked up at her, “The Academy, as I am constantly told, is getting desperate.” The Twi’lek smiled in bitter amusement at her own words, like she was commenting on an inside joke, before she glanced briefly down at the blade resting against her throat and then returning her attention back to her nails, “Now, are you going to put your blade down?” Aindri tilted her head at the Twi’lek’s request, “After you tried to kill me?” “Consider it a professional curtsey,” The Twi’lek drawled, “Besides I failed, didn’t I? You’ll be ready for me this time, so theres no point in trying again so soon.” Aindri narrowed her eyes at Twi’lek for a moment before she snorted and stepped back, sheathing her vibrosword with a single fluid motion. “Why thank you,” The Twi’lek continued in the same drawling quality, before tilting her head towards the dark and crumbling tomb entrance with a raised eyebrow, “Care to join me in the tomb? From what I’ve seen, you clearly will need help if you going to pass whatever trial you’ve been given any time this century.” Aindri arched an eyebrow and when she remained silent, the Twi’lek shrugged elegantly before brushing past her, “Suite yourself.” Watching the Twi’lek, who moved with a seductive grace, stroll towards the tomb with an assessing gaze, Aindri knew that she was being provoked on purpose It was a clever ploy, goad someone into fighting the majority of enemies in order to prove their superiority and the Twi’lek would get a free ride through the tomb. “I will not be manipulated into fighting for you.” She called out crossing her arms and the Twi’lek stopped before turning to look at her with a new measure of respect. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. Smarter than the usual brutes at least.” She did growl then, and the Twi’lek smirked at her before turning and walked through the entrance of one of the valleys’ most ancient tombs with a wave, “See you on the other side then. If you survive.” Aindri clicked her tongue before unsheathing her blade, spinning it into a reverse grip and thrusting backwards to impale the K’lor’slug which had attempted to sneak up behind her. The creature emitted a high pitched screech as she yanked the blade from its torso. Re-sheathing her vibrosword, Aindri marched towards the entrance and began her descent into the tombs depths, running her hand along the roughhewn walls as she walked down the worn stone steps. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she stood in an open archway which opened up onto an expansive chamber ravaged by time. Spidery cracks covered the walls and statues, broken urns lined the walls and looking up she could see holes in the ceiling where the masonry had become loose. Surrounding the area near the staircase was a makeshift barricade, made from stacking crates one on top of the other, separating the space from the rest of the chamber and the K’lor’slugs occupying it. Behind the barricade the remainder of a squad of troopers had taken shelter, only one of whom was still standing as he unleased quick bursts of blaster fire when an overly inquisitive creature got too close. The rest where leaning or sitting against the crates, bleeding heavily, and it took only one look to know that they were at their limit. She approached the one man still standing, the stripes on his uniform identifying him as a Sergeant. “What is the situation Sergeant…?” “Cormun, my lord,” The trooper saluted, “Of the Fifth Infantry Company, Korriban regiment. I’m here commanding a hard target mission to exterminate K’lor’slugs in this tomb.” He shuddered involuntarily and Aindri sensed his fear at the mention of the beast, “I’ve lost three squads of good men fighting them. They come in packs – they just… they’ll swallow a man whole.” “Strategy?” She asked, given how many of the beasts there were she’d target the egg chambers to stop them from breeding. It turned out the sergeant had the same idea. “We managed to get explosives to all the egg chambers but the K’lor’slugs were all over us before we could detonate them.” She nodded before unsheathing her vibrosword and approached the barricade, “Hold this position, I will detonate the explosives.” She didn’t wait for an answer before vaulting over the crates and charging towards the nearest K’lor’slug with a Force aided leap. Impaling the creature, and drawing on the Force, she thrust out her free hand, the K’lor’slug thrashed about in the air before she enclosed her fist. The K’lor’slug exploded, thick clumps of blood oozed to the floor and crushed organs fell to the ground with a wet thud. Moving forward, she ducked through an archway into a corridor and carved her way through K’lor’slug after K’lor’slug which only got more ferocious as she neared the egg chamber. It wasn’t long before floor grew slick with the creature’s blood and Aindri slipped once or twice as she found it more difficult to keep her footing. Reaching the chamber, she could just make out the explosives scattered in amongst the eggs and spied the detonator switch only a metre or so away from the eggs. Unlike the corridor and the main chamber, there was only a single K’lor’slug standing guard, though it was much larger than the others. Aindri knew it was most likely stronger as well. Twirling her vibrosword once in her hand, she leaped towards the beast and brought her blade smashing down onto the things crown but the tougher hide meant that she only scored a small cut. She had to jump back to avoid the swing of a talon, before she lunged forward, stamping her foot to had extra power to her thrust. With all the force concentrated on a single point, the blade was able to pierce the K’lor’slugs stomach, blood and gastric acid spilling on the floor. Aindri withdrew her vibrosword quickly so that the acid wouldn’t eat away at the metal and she channelled the Force into the muscles of her arms before she dealt a fatal blow with a slash just below its maw. Setting the charges, she sprinted from the chamber and ducked behind doorway before she threw the switch, and clapped her hands over her ears as the explosives detonated behind her. It took a couple of seconds for the tremors to settle and she twisted around to peer back into the chamber. The explosion sent charred pieces of K’lor’slugs spattering across the floor and walls and a small shower of dust and pebbles rained down from the ceiling. She spent a moment to admire the handiwork wrought by the Sergeant’s explosives before walking back down the corridor to the main chamber. “From the explosion I take it you were successful in clearing the egg chambers?” Cormun asked hopefully as she approached, letting out a sigh of relief when she nodded in confirmation, “You have my utmost thanks, my lord.” “You will be fine for now, but given your squads condition I would retreat soon.” Aindri warned. “I’ll get the survivors back to the barracks as soon as possible,” Cormun replied, before looking at the remnants of his squad with a sad sigh, “They were good men and woman, they deserved better than torn to shreds by a pack of beasts.” “They died in service to the Empire. To the Sith. There is no greater honour.” She replied, her head slightly bowed in silent condolement for the slain. “You are right, my lord,” He agreed with a small smile on his face, “Their families will be proud,” He looked to her and saluted, “I’d say good luck, but I don’t think you’ll need it.” Leaving Cormun and his men behind her, Aindri ventured further into the tomb, her blade rising and falling in bewildering patterns as she cut her way through K’lor’slugs after K’lor’slug until the tide eventually slowed. She kicked at a carcass of one of the few creatures that hadn’t been killed by her, evidence of passing acolytes who could actually swing a vibrosword with some semblance of skill, but stopped when something about the corpse caught her eye. Squatting down, she examined the K’lor’slug and frowned upon seeing blasters marks as she knew the troopers from the entrance hadn’t gone this far in and Acolytes didn’t carry blasters. Some of the burns were also inconsistent with ones belonging to Imperial issued weapons. Raising her head she looked intently into the gloom, the lack of light making it hard to see beyond a few meters ahead of her. Standing, she twirled her blade in her hand once before starting to walk forward once more, and it wasn’t long before she heard the familiar sounds of blaster fire ringing in the chamber ahead of her. Aindri stopped in the archway and analysed the ongoing melee, looters clashing with the occasional acolyte, before spotting a certain red skinned Twi’lek standing over a human male, her lips twisted in contempt. Lips curling up in a predatory smile, she silent began stalking towards her. Tormi disliked looters, hated them with a passion, and so she had dispatched the human male, who wore simple work clothes to hide him from suspicion, with a particularly potent dose of Force Lightning. She turned to the second looter who was thumbling with his blaster, a look of abject terror on their face, and was about to raise her hand when she heard the tell-tale sound of a blade whistling through the air. Jumping to the side, she avoided the blade which slashed open the looters throat, sending a fine red mist spurting into the air. Whipping around with her arms raised to release a torrent of Force Lightning on her attacker, she found herself facing with the same human acolyte she had met above ground. That acolyte was now mirroring her earlier posture and was examining her finger nails with a bored expression on her face, her vibrosword held in a loose, almost lazy grip in her other hand. Almost being the operative word, as despite seemingly unguarded stance there was a certain readiness about her. Looking up, the human gave her a look which sent a single, simple, message. Now we’re even. “Tormi.” The Twi’lek supplied with a savage grin, one promising murder and mayhem and Aindri gave her a savage grin of her own. “Aindri.” Together they launched forward and Aindri blocked blaster bolts and the occasional vibrosword as she cut her and Tormi a path, while the Twi’lek followed her laughing as she shocked looter and acolyte alike. They fought in tandem, with her cutting and slicing into the enemies closest to them, whilst Tormi used Force Lightning to strike those further afield. It wasn’t long before Aindri came to both respect and appreciate the Twi’lek’s skill with the Force, her lightning getting faster and stronger each time she used the technique. Within minutes they had travelled several chambers deeper into the tombs where they once again encountered K’lor’slugs and green ichor once again sprayed their already stained clothes. Coming into one of the few areas of the tombs free of enemies, Tormi looked down at her clothes with a look of disdain. “While this has been fun,” Tormi scowled picking at her clothes, “I’m looking forward to a shower and chucking these in an incinerator.” “Really? I think it’s an improvement.” She commented drily. “Shut up.” Aindri smirked and they left the gloomy corridor and entered another antechamber, a corridor directly in front of them whilst of too the right was a set of stairs which descended even further into the tombs depths. “And this is where we must part I’m afraid,” Tormi sighed dramatically as she approached the stone stairs, “I have a trial of philosophy to complete.” “Spindrall.” Aindri muttered, surprised that the elderly Sith, who was at the Academy when her uncle was an acolyte which was decades ago, was still alive after all these years. From her uncle, she knew that the Sith was a prophet and often counselled acolytes on the Sith code. Then Aindri frowned when she registered the heavy sarcasm lacing Tormi’s voice and arched an eyebrow at her follow acolyte. “Well what can I say? My overseer is a xenocentric chauvinist.” Tormi snorted, as if that explained everything, which in a way Aindri supposed it did, and didn’t bother to elaborate any further. Giving a small shake of the head, she gave the Twi’lek a small smirk. “See you on the other side. If you survive.” Aindri quipped and Tormi snorted, even as her eyes glittered in amusement, before she gave her fellow acolyte a cunning smile. “Oh I’ll pass whatever test he gives me, I don’t plan on letting some old geezer prevent me from being Sith.” Tomri waved over her shoulder as she disappeared into the shadow of the stairs and Aindri was alone once again. * Not long after Aindri separated from Tormi, she came upon an archway spanning that span the beginning of a set of well-worn stairs delving down into shadows of the tomb. Etched into the stone of the arch was ancient Sith script, worn away by passage time. She recognised ‘Tyûk’ meaning strength, and ‘Asmenys’ meaning blade, ‘Spaga’ meaning sword and ‘Ginklas’ meaning weapon. The rest of the text was illegible but what she could read told her enough about what was awaiting her at the bottom of the stone steps. The Armoury. Unsheathing her vibrosword and holding it ready in her hand, Aindri stalked down the staircase, careful of any loose or damp flagstones, guided by pale orange light from below. Every twenty steps was a narrow landing, flanked on each side by weathered, ancient sarcophagi standing against the two walls. They were open, but instead of mortal remains, just as ancient droids lay deactivated within. Despite their age, and the scuffs and scratches on their metal frames, the droids looked perfectly operable and she wondered whether someone was sent to rebuild or maintain them and if so, how often. The bottom of the staircase opened up into a grand circular chamber littered with masonry, crumbling armour, interspaced by open sarcophagi where more droids lay entombed. Along the walls sat numerous weapon racks, some of the spaces sitting empty, blades to which a champion had already laid claim, whilst others held ancient, dormant, blades. A few of the weapons, though not many, that she could see were too dull or aged to be of any use. Whilst there were no obvious remains, the dark stains and patchy streaks on the floor lent weight to Tremel’s earlier words: Become Sith, or die. Shaking her self, Aindri re-sheathed her sword and she moved to stand in the centre of the chamber, closing her eyes and opening herself to the Force, letting it guide her to the correct blade. Feeling a weak tug, she turned clockwise until she was facing the side of the chamber where the pull felt strongest. Opening her eyes she walked towards the rack at the back of the chamber, flanked by two statues of bowed slaves, and skimmed her hand over the blades hilts. Her hand stopped over the hilt of a warblade which, while she couldn’t quite put a finger on a reason, she knew would be the blade that would see her through her trials. Gripping the hilt, she removed it from the rack, eliciting a slight rasp as it scraped against the stone. Stepping back, Aindri examined her new weapon which, while slightly rusted, was light and razor sharp. The blade, slightly longer than a traditional lightsaber, ended in a chiselled tip whilst its base flared out in a stout guard over the handle. She gave it few experimental swings, getting used to the weight, the balance and the feel of it, before she held it out in front of her. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, she pressed her thumb gently against the toggle. A pale light spilled from the hilt, sheathing the blade in a weak crimson glow and a deep hum emanated from the metal, not dissimilar from the sound of a lightsaber. Though whether the blade would hold against a lightsaber in sustained combat, she did not know. Satisfied that the blade was sound, and pleased age hadn't comprised the metals integrity, she passed it into her left hand and unsheathed her vibrosword before tossing it into the rubble. With a slight smirk on her face, Aindri took a step forward when a soft, almost silent, whirring sound reached her ear and a glint of metal caught her eye. Out of the sarcophagi stepped four droids, who raised four blasters, all pointing straight at the centre of her chest. Her smirk breaking out in a wild grin, Aindri deflected the bolts with her new blade and jumped towards the first droid with a Force aided leap, impaling it through the chest. Removing her blade from the first droid she stepped up and bisected the second with a single strike, sparks flying from the exposed wires. The third, she sent crashing into the wall with a powerful Force Push, and crushed it with the Force. She ducked, blaster fire sailing over her head and span the warblade into a reserve grip before thrust it back and up, piercing the fourth beneath its chin. Walking back through the armoury and up the staircase, she continued to demolish the droids that staggered out of the sarcophagi, laughing freely at the destruction that she and her blade created. Battling the droids in the armoury, set the tone for most of her journey through the rest of the tomb and Aindri quickly became bored as she settled into motions of cutting through anything that crossed her path, K’lor’slug or looter, with ruthless efficiency as she fought her way through the corridors. By the time she had reached the upper floors her bloodlust had largely dissipated as none of the tombs denizens challenged her enough to get creative in her bladework. Even the K’lor’slugs, as deadly as Tremel had made them out to be, had lost their bite. “Come on you nerf-herders! The quicker we shift this lot of relics, the quicker we get paid!” Aindri stopped mid-step, her ears perking up at the rough voice and odd accent, and cocked her head to the side as snippets of conversation floated down from somewhere above her. Walking past a broken statue, she found a staircase leading to what she guessed was another chamber above her. Stalking up the steps, Aindri stopped just short of the archway and watched as the looters manhandled what had to be priceless Sith relics, gritting her teeth at the lack of care and respect that they were treated with. Narrowing her eyes, she recalled the bloodstained datapad that she had found in one of the chambers and fixed her gaze on the man directing the other looters. Curling lithe fingers tighter round the hilt, Aindri drew her blade as she leaped at him. The looters watched horrified when her warblade split the man’s skull, his blood pooling on the floor as he hit the ground. Taking advantage of their panic, Aindri attacked the rest of the looters, quickly striking those nearest to her, her blade humming gleefully when it sliced through sentient flesh. Witnessing the carnage, the few remaining looters dropped their weapons and fled the chamber, and whilst she wanted to chase and destroy them for even daring to touch the tombs relics, their safety took priority. Re-sheathing her warblade, its hunger quenched for the time being, Aindri crouched down and carefully picked the relics to check them over for any damage. Breathing a sigh of relief at that the relics were fine, she gently placed them into a bag she’d taken from one of the looters and stood, hefting the bag over her shoulder. Aindri picked her way carefully through the rest of the tomb, avoiding the looters and K’lor’slugs so that the relics wouldn’t be damaged. It took her another solid hour of making her way through the tombs twist and turns before finally finding a staircase that lead up and out of the tomb. Taking the first step, Aindri smiled at the thought that she would be finally stepping foot into the Sith Academy. And looking down at her clothes, ripped, bloodied and stained with droid oil, she looked forward to the chance to have a shower.

Good news I'm not dead! I was just doing a lot of rewriting and rehashing of my 'Path of Destruction' story, which I've renamed 'Journey', hence new thread rather than updating the old one. Hopefully its gotten a lot better and hopefully you enjoy it. Usual disclaimers abound. Chapter One - Arrival on the Sacred World The Sith Empire tightens its grip on the galaxy. The Galactic Republic and its Jedi defenders lie weakened and vulnerable after the Empire's successful military campaign. With a fragile peace negotiated under the Treaty of Coruscant, the Empire sends all potential Sith to undergo cruel and deadly trials at its Academy on the harsh planet of Korriban. Aindri Nimum Hallow, one of the Empire's most promising young warriors, has been secretly summoned by an influential overseer to face the dark side trials much sooner than expected... Captain Adasi stood behind on the bridge of the harrower-class dreadnaught The Reclaimer, silently watching the tunnel of swirling blue and white light, passing mass-shadows breaking up their ever dancing patterns. The floor vibrated softly beneath his feet and he breathed deeply, revelling in the thrum of the engines and the knowledge that the whole galaxy was stretched out before him. “Sir, we are approaching the Horuset System” Called an ensign from one of the bridges many consoles and the admiral, turned slightly to give the order to prepare to exit hyperspace. Not that it was necessary as all crew members were already in their positions. Imperial efficiency at its finest. “Emerging from hyperspace now.” Gradually the tunnel faded and narrowed into thin columns of light as dreadnaughts hyperdrive deactivated. Starlines shortened and condensed, becoming the familiar vast expanse of realspace as The Reclaimer was ejected out of hyperspace just beyond Korriban’s orbit. Korriban’s small orbital station bathed in the planets orange glow, dreadnaughts drifting through the planets exosphere. Starfighters danced across open space, casting dark specks on the moons hanging just beyond Korriban’s horizon and thin patchwork clouds wandered lazily across its surface, affording Adasi a good view of bright red sands. As soon as they left hyperspace the admiral began barking out orders and he dragged his eyes away from the viewpoint to fully focus on his commanding officer. “Ensign have PL-1 Kanra prep shuttle TTS-08 for flight down to Korriban,” And when admiral turned to him, he was decidedly not happy by his superiors next words, “Capitan, meet our guest and escort them to the hanger.” Suppressing a grimace at his orders, Adasi nonetheless saluted before walking briskly out of the bridge and towards the crew decks. Unease pooled in his stomach, only growing as Adasi approached the private quarters, normally housing senior officers, currently accommodating their guest. Reaching the door, he swallowed his discomfort but before he could knock the door slid open with a whisper and a soft, almost melodious voice called from within. “Come in.” His discomfort returned only this time with a shiver dancing along his spine. Emperor, he disliked Sith. Mentally shaking his head to dislodge the dangerous thought, Adasi stepped inside the room and stood at attention by the entrance. The Sith, Adasi was surprised to see, was a young woman, her light brown skin smooth and unmarred by the ravages of age. He had been expecting a hulking brute upon learning they’d be transporting a Sith to Korriban with the normal contingent of troops. Dark red hair lightly brushed her shoulders, framing a diamond shaped face and bangs gently shadowed closed eyes. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she painted a picture of something untypical for a Sith, one of calm serenity. But her peaceful demeanour only served to unnerve him further, as he could only compare it to a peace akin to that before a wild storm. One which threated to destroy anything that dared crossed its path. An incomplete Atorian puzzle cube sat in front of her rotating slowly in mid-air, the remaining puzzle pieces floating in the air around it. Adasi had seen Sith use the Force before, but he still watched slack jawed as the remaining pieces slotted lazily into place. Puzzle complete, the Sith opened and titled her head, regarding him quizzically with stormy grey orbs. “A-apologies my lord,” He stuttered, realising he’d been staring and took a breath to calm himself before speaking again, “We have arrived in the Horuset system and a shuttle has been prepped to take you down to Korriban.” The Sith inclined, which Adasi took as a sign of dismissal and hurried from the room. Aindri chuckled lowly at the officers’ reaction and uncrossed her legs, leaving the puzzle floating in the air, to place her socked feet on the floor. Reaching for her black boots from where they had been discarded on the floor upon her arrival, she pulled on her boots and stood, hearing a small pop when she stretched her muscles. Slipping on the dark grey outer tunic, which had been resting on a chair, over her black shirt she reached for the scabbard holding her training saber and clipped it to her belt. Shifting slightly from foot to foot, Adasi snapped to attention as the Sith stepped into the hall, jumping slightly when the puzzle dropped into her open palm. The Sith chuckled and by the time he had come to his wits, Adasi had to jog to catch up to her as she strode towards the elevator at the end of the corridor. “What is your name Captain?” He blinked at the sudden question and startled as he was, he took a moment to respond to her query. “Adasi, my lord.” He replied, tapping the elevator control panel and she hummed thoughtfully as the doors hissed shut and elevator shuddered slightly before it began its descent to the hanger. “And how long have you been in the Imperial Navy?” Caught off guard by the follow up question, he glanced at her warily wondering why a Sith of all people was asking him these questions. “Ten years, my lord.” She hummed again before asking him another. “Have you enjoyed your service?” Adasi fought off a sigh as he decided that she was simply prattling inanely on a whim, though he supposed that was better than the alternative. He had after all, spent the better part of his career trying to avoid drawing the attention of Sith. Whilst it almost certainly guaranteed a high position in the military it also increased the chances of death by unfortunate accident. He also had better things to do than entertaining a Sith’s whims, his mind turning to the large stack of paperwork likely awaiting him on his desk back in his own quarters. Stuffing down his growing frustration, Adasi replied with the safest possible answer that was also nearest to the truth, “I would say so my lord.” Aindri glanced at him and nodded in satisfaction, the remainder of the journey was done in silence. Exiting onto the busy hanger deck, a large military shuttle sat waiting at the far end of the hanger. A platoon of troopers, likely assigned planetside, stood talking to each other or were checking their gear as they waited to board. “You have my apologies my lord, but were unable to completely alter this shuttle’s original schedule of transporting troops to Dreshdae and we must retain a shuttle for emergencies.” “It will suffice.” Said Aindri, she would, in all honesty, be more irritated if military matters were disrupted solely for her, “Though I suspect, given your experience with Sith, you were expecting me to demand you to drop everything to accommodate me and throw a temper tantrum if you do not.” Adasi blinked but otherwise kept his expression neutral even as he panicked at the Sith’s words, as that was what he expected. Aware that he needed to tread carefully less he insult her and alarms bells ringing in his head, he opened his mouth, prepared to lie through his teeth to deny the statement. “No, my lord I...” He began, trailing off when the Sith looked at him pointedly. “Captain when speaking with me, you will speak honestly. I detest liars.” He stood there frozen as temperature dropped, the Sith’s eyes now a pale yellow hue. “Yes, of course my lord. You have my utmost apologies.” He held his breath as she watched him briefly before her eyes returned to their natural grey. Nodding at him in acknowledgement she continuing on towards the shuttle, though this time she kept pace with him. Kanra, the shuttles pilot, excused herself from a conversation with one of the maintenance personnel and walked over, saluting him before bowing to the Sith. “My lord, I am the pilot who is to take you down to the surface.” Kanra informed the young woman who inclined her head in greeting before she asked the young pilot for her name. “Kanra, my lord.” The young Sith nodded before she did something that neither of them had expected. “You have my thanks Kanra, as well as my apologies for disrupting your flight schedule.” Kanra blinked in surprise, and Adasi was sure he had misheard. He had never seen a Sith thank anyone, much less apologise. Kanra recovered first, but then she had less experience dealing with Sith and so she had little idea of how unusual this was. “No thanks and apologies are necessary my lord! It is an honour to serve the Sith.” The young Sith chuckled slightly before smiling softly at Kanra. “Indeed, it is my hope that we work together in the future.” The standard Imperial mask of polite and respectful acceptance was broken by Kanra’s massive grin as she nodded eagerly. “I hope so too. It would be an absolute honour, my lord. If you would excuse I need to start the final checks.” The Sith nodded and Kanra bowed deeply before spinning round and dashing towards the shuttle. “She’s certainly eager.” Aindri chuckled with amusement as the young pilot sprint ahead of them. “The state of our forces being what they are, her training was rushed. This is her first posting so she hasn’t had much experience with Sith yet and still retains a bit of that childhood awe.” Adasi replied. “Yes, it will be a shame when that is lost. Such is the inevitability of conflict.” Aindri sighed as she watched Kanra enter the shuttle. She maybe Sith, or soon to be, but it always saddened her when innocence was lost and Kanra reminded her little brother who, if he saw her now would be both proud and smug. She was going to Korriban, where she would train and eventually face the Sith trials, she could almost imagine the ‘I told you so’ smirk on his face. He was one of the few people in her childhood who had always believed in her, even when she still hadn’t exhibited Force sensitivity. Adasi remained silent and, Emperor help him, found himself actually beginning to respect the Sith standing beside him. Clearing his throat he started to relay the information that he had received regarding what the Sith should expect once she arrived on the planet. “You will be dropped off at the Korriban Arrival port near the Sith Academy. It is my understanding that someone from the Academy will be meeting you planetside.” “Thank you Captain,” The Sith replied and turned away from the troops to face him for the first time since she’d left the room, “Go. I know you find babysitting a Sith acolyte a waste of your time and that you are eager to get back to your post.” Adasi stared at her speechlessly, his mind working overtime to figure out what exactly gave his thoughts away. He was sure his mask hadn’t slipped even once and even though he was no expert, he knew how to bury such feelings deep in his psyche. He was startled back into the present as the Sith hummed slightly and he became aware that whilst he had been standing there a couple of minutes had already passed. Adasi coughed, “Err… yes. I mean no. I mean thank you, my lord, if you’ll excuse me,” He bowed slightly before turning swiftly on his heel and starting towards the exit. Hurrying out of the hanger, he found himself hoping this rotation would end and The Reclaimer would be returning to the frontlines, preferably soon. Aindri watched in carefully concealed amusement as the captain walked out of the hanger as fast as he could without appearing rude. She knew her actions would confuse and unsettle him, but it was too tempting to resist. Shaking her head slightly, she turned swiftly on her heel and resumed walking towards the shuttle as its ramp thudded onto the hanger floor, the troopers standing at attention as she strode past. Entering the shuttle she took the seat nearest to the ramp since she would be getting off first, leaving the remainder for rest of the troopers who began filing and stowed their gear in lockers above their seat. “Command, this is shuttle TTS-08, requesting permission for travel to Korriban.” She heard Kanra’s voice from the cockpit as the ramp slammed shut sealing the shuttles interiors. “Permission granted TTS-08, you are cleared for landing at the Korriban Arrival Port.” It never ceased to amaze her how sharp her senses became after meditating, as Aindri found that she could hear even the quietest of sounds, see the minutest of details, detect the faintest of scents and tastes and feel the gentlest of touches. Though the enhanced senses did come with their downsides and she suppressed a wince at the loud noise as the shuttles engines roared to life. Thankfully her hearing quickly returned to normal and the roar of the engines soon died down to a subtle hum. Leaning back against the wall of the shuttle, Aindri closing her eyes and refocused her mind. Submerging herself in the Force, she could feel the ancient darkness had suffused Korribans’ very atmosphere gently probing her mind. Allowing the darkness to enter her mind, images flashed rapidly before her eyes; vast stretches of red sand, towering red cliffs, crumbling ruins filled tombs, their walls etched with ancient Sith markings. Suddenly an image and the roar of a hulking, monster of a beast flashed in her mind. As she attempted to focus on the image, Aindri was thrown back into reality when the shuttle floor jolted as it hit the landing platform. She looked up as Kanra appeared in her vision and informed her they'd arrived at the arrival port. Aindri stood as the hydraulics hissed and the ramp unsealed itself from the shuttle door and walked out of the shaded interior and onto circular landing pad, Kanra and another trooper following close behind her. Horuset shone with a baleful glare, high in Korriban’s orange sky and she waited for her eyesight to adjust to the light before she observed her surroundings. A statue of the Emperor, flanked by a pair of Imperial banners, stood proud and tall against the durasteel of the building at the end of catwalk and the Sith Academy, carved in gleaming red stone, loomed in the distance. Looking up she also could see the artillery that had been installed in the aftermath of reclaiming the planet from the Republic. Looking back towards the catwalk she saw a man with dark weathered skin, wearing scarred black battle armour, and closely cropped wiry grey hair walk out from the shadow of an open doorway. She recognised him from when he was visiting her father on Ziost during the clan gathering. He must have been the overseer to call her here. Tremel stopped just short of the ramp and examined the acolyte standing at the top, his gaze drawn to the dark red hair which denoted her pureblood ancestry. Through the Force he could sense the power and strength that was belied by her lithe, yet athletic, frame. It wrapped around her like a cloak and the darkness caressed her skin like a mother welcoming her young child home after a particularly gruelling day. There was a confidence in the way she stood, like nothing or no one could touch her, her posture straight and her presence unwavering. Somehow making the plain and simple grey tunic and black leggings she wore seem regal. He had seen the brief flash of recognition in her eyes and she now regarded him, equal parts curious and analytical. “At last you’ve arrived. Good, good. There is much to do and every moment is critical.” Dismissing Kanra and the trooper, who both bowed to her, Aindri walked forward to meet with the overseer at the bottom of the ramp. “I’m Overseer Tremel and for decades, I’ve administered the trails that prove who is and who is not worthy to join the Sith Order. The trials are a chance to weed out the weak. Those who face them either survive and become Sith, or die.” Aindri regarded him with a neutral expression even as her suspicion grew. Acolytes could spend years on Korriban without even beginning their trials, and the fact that she was starting hers as soon as she arrived meant that there was something else at play. Even so, while she disliked being kept in the dark or being someone’s pawn, she wouldn’t let that stop her from being Sith. “I will be Sith.” Aindri stated firmly. “That,” Tremel replied calmly, “Remains to be seen Acolyte,” Turning he began walking down the catwalk, the soft click of boots on metal the only indication that she was following him. Aindri quickly fell in step besides the overseer, and as they walked past the statue of the Emperor, she couldn’t shake the feeling that those eyes, shrouded in shadow beneath its hood, were watching her every move. “You are here and ahead of schedule because of me,” Said Tremel before looking at her, “I expect you to obey.” They entered the shade of the building, and Tremel stopped, turning to face her fully, “You face your trials, you serve me, and I will make you the most powerful acolyte here.” Aindri remained silent as she wondered whether it was within Tremels’ ability to promise such a thing. Tremel took her silence as either acquiescence or understanding as he continued to speak. “The trials themselves are difficult enough, but they are hardly the greatest threat you face.” She arched an eyebrow, her interest piqued by what could be considered as more dangerous than the infamous Sith trials. “There’s an acolyte here named Vemrin. He’s your enemy, and he will try to kill you so we must prepare you for when that time comes.” Tremel watched for her reaction and he wasn’t disappointed, her voice betraying on emotion but had an edge to it, which made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “Then I will destroy him.” “With my guidance, sometime you will destroy all your enemies,” He smiled before looking at the vibrosword strapped to her waist in disdain, “That practice sword is insufficient, the blade of lesser acolytes, you need a dominating weapon.” Aindri glanced at her weapon, which was slightly chipped and worn down from years of use. It had always served her well, but she knew Tremel had a point and understood the importance of having a good weapon. It could make all the difference in a fight. Aindri glanced at her weapon, which was slightly chipped and worn down from years of use. It had always served her well, but she knew Tremel had a point and understood the importance of having a good weapon. It could make all the difference in a fight. “In the tomb of Ajunta Pall, there is an old armoury. A strong Sith warblade awaits you there. The tomb is thick with K’lor’slugs, deadly, savage creatures. Be speedy but careful. They have been the end of many an acolyte.” Aindri would like to see the beasts try, if they lacked the instinct to avoid her, she would not hesitate to feed them their own heads. She was already looking forward to facing Korriban’s supposed horrors and she hoped that they would provide her with a challenge, even if it was only slight. Tremel paused briefly at the flicker of excitement that appeared in the acolytes grey eyes before, after thinking back to see if he’d forgotten anything, giving her his final instructions, “Once you acquire the warblade, I suggest you spend some time in the Tomb bloodying it. Then come to me in my chambers in the Academy.” Walking away briskly, Tremel disappeared from sight through another doorway and left her standing alone in the empty room. Aindri sighed and turned back to face the catwalk, frowning as she cast her gaze towards the horizon. In the distant dreadnoughts crawled lazily across the sky in low orbit and one of Korribans’ many moons hung visible in the sky, whilst gigantic monolithic statues of bowed slaves stood in an eternal vigil over the Valley of the Sleeping Kings. Distant rusty mountain mesas, like the ones that ringed the valley, climbed high into the sky. Tremel had a purpose and a plan in bring here, of that she was sure. She had become a pawn in an invisible game, between him and an invisible opponent. She wondered how many other pieces were in play, who they were and what roll they played in the players schemes. Still, she had worked too hard to get where she was now and she didn’t plan on dying on Korriban, not when she knew that it was only the first step. And especially not because of some power play between Sith. No, she would not die, rather she would not only survive but also thrive. A wind began to pick up, ruffling her hair, and as she took a deep breath to taste the air of the ancient Sith homeworld, Aindri allowed her frown to be replaced by a feral smile. Monsters, deadly trials, extremely competitive acolytes, and permission to run wild in the tombs, this was definitely going to be fun.

Thanks for all the great stories and one of the greatest female characters ever. Rest in peace Princess Fisher and may the Force always be with you and your family.

Taking a short hiatus for the holidays; spending time until New Years in a place without internet so won't be able to post. See you guys in the new year.

Prologue – Korriban Part 10 Aindri narrowed her eyes as the other acolyte charged forward. Pivoting she flipped the acolyte over her shoulder, who exhaled forcefully as his back slammed into the ground. He attempted to scramble to his feet but fell back clutching at his nose and screaming as she delivered a savage downwards punch. “Acolyte.” Aindri looked up to see Tremel standing at the top of the arena and frowned; his Force signature was muddied with a mix of unease and hatred. “My chambers. Now.” He turned sharply on his heel and stalked from the arena, obviously expecting her to follow. Venitas met her eyes from across the arena and raised an eyebrow quizzically. Shrugging she made her excuses to Rance and collected her datapad and warblade before climbing up the slope and out of the arena. Ducking into the gloomy corridor she sprinted down it and up the stairs, slowing to a jog as she entered the Academy proper. Aindri unease grew as made her though the Academy, its normally busy hallways deadly quite as if all its denizens had been told to keep themselves occupied. Aindri slowed to a walk as she approached Tremel’s chambers; if she had a trial Tremel would have informed her, but to be pulled out of morning training like this. She knew something was wrong. Baras; that Darth was the only person in the Academy who could elicit such a response from him. “We must speak quickly, acolyte, there isn’t much time.” Tremel turned to her as she entered the chamber; she could see dark bags under his eyes and the worry etched in the lines of his face. “I may have made a slight miscalculation.” He admitted. “Miscalculation?” “The beast if Marka Ragnos was a great source of dark energy here on Korriban. When it was slain, there was a tremor in the Force. Darth Baras felt that tremor and has been aware of you. He demands an audience.” “So that’s why you’re worried, but you needn’t be; I am ready for Baras.” She stated confidently. “After meeting him, you may find yourself wishing you had more time to prepare.” He cautioned. “Baras is a serious man but a master of deception. Everything he does and says is calculated.” Tremel clasped his hands behind his back “He will attempt to trip you up, test your nature, and get to the heart of who you are. Always take him seriously. And I mean always.” “I can handle Baras.” “Baras is usually the one doing the handling. We might not speak again, acolyte, you’re the best chance of stopping Vemrin. If you fail, I doubt there will be another strong enough. Meet Darth Baras in his chambers. And hurry, he won’t take kindly to waiting. Good luck.” * Aindri leaned against the wall catching the tail end of Baras giving, Vemrin and several other acolytes their trial. She raised her eyebrow as Baras launched into what she presumed was meant to be an inspirational/threatening speech. “Most of you will not return from this endeavour. If you die, you will be forgotten. If you give up, you will be killed. Now, out of my sight.” It was certainly motivational. The majority of the acolytes left the room as soon as they were dismissed, but Vemrin and another acolyte, wearing a gold chest plate, stopped in front of her. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Vemrin snorted “You should. This is the end of the line for you, Klemral. Just make sure you stay out of my way.” Klemral glanced at her. “Look here Vemrin, I see the upstart and Dolgis didn’t return yesterday.” Baras stood and regarded them coolly “Klemral, Vemrin, you have been dismissed.” “Yes master.” Klemral bowed slightly and hurried out of the room, obviously eager to not get involved, whilst Vemrin glared at her “I underestimated you by sending Dolgis. It will not happen again.” Vemrin stormed from the room. “Are you having trouble with acolyte Vemrin, supplicant?” she kept her features neutral as she answered the question despite the annoyance that she felt surging through her, she did not like being patronised. “Vemrin has paid his dues. He’s fought a deck stacked against him to get here. You, on the other hand… let me get a closer look at you.” Crossing her arms, she waited as Baras circled her. “Yes, as I suspected. Overseer Tremel has done you and this Academy a great disservice.” He affirmed stepping back. “Your warblade came early, prisoners flown in for your convenience, even a beast here on Korriban instead of offworld in the wild. The pacing of the trials is deliberate. Only full immersion over time produces results. Your mind is soft, unhoned, undisciplined.” “I’ll make you regret those words.” She said tightly. “I won’t regret cutting you down were you stand.” Baras growled. “The first month of trials should be dedicated to philosophy, conceptual tactics, understanding of the Sith Code.” “Recite the Sith Code for me, acolyte, and explain its meaning in battle, war and politics.” Aindri knew the Code by memory and could recite it easily, but knowing the extent to which she could deceive Baras would be useful information. Taking a breath she calmed her mind and focused on Baras’s mask. “Sure, give me a minute. There’s the Dark Side, the Light Side and, well, there you have it.” Baras remained silent and she began to wonder whether she had succeeded or not. “Pathetic. I can read the lie from a nascent Force user with my eyes closed.” “I am your master now. Tremel was becoming lax before you ever arrived and his unwillingness to adapt to the evolving Sith paradigm has become a liability. These are the actions of a traitor and traitors, are executed.” “I can’t go and just kill an overseer.” She pointed out. “I grant you immunity from punishment. Go, kill Tremel and bring back his hand as proof. Don’t return until you’ve killed him.” Inclining her head she left his chambers and started towards Tremel’s offices for the final time. * Aindri smiled slightly as she sensed the surprise that rippled through Baras’s Force signature when she entered his chambers. Given his reaction to seeing, he had thought that this was the last time he would see her. She had to give credit where credit was due though, Tremel may not have been a Lord or a Darth, but being an overseer at the Academy, where assassinations were an almost daily occurrence, was no easy feat. Stopping before him, she threw a brown skinned severed hand onto Baras’s desk and waited. “What’s this?” “The acolyte returns and with a bloodied weapon, I assume this means Tremel is no more.” Picking up the hand Baras regarded it before removing a golden ring from the ring finger and holding it out to her. “Here, take this one ring as a memento. Remembering the past can strengthen resolve and embolden the spirit.” Or hold you back, she couldn’t help but think as she took the ring and slipped it into her pocket. Baras regarded her thoughtfully. “I am impressed you had the fortitude to destroy him. You know, he thought of you as family. How did it feel to betray him?” She shrugged “I did what was called for.” “You mask your feelings well. As long as you don’t suppress them. You have taken your first step to understanding the Sith Code.” Baras stood and turned to look up at the statue of Emperor, but she sensed that rather than loyalty he only felt ambition when he looked upon the visage of the Empire’s ruler. “Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, we gain strength. Through strength, we gain power. Through power, we gain victory. Through victory our chains are broken. The Force shall set us free. By embracing the code and destroying Tremel, you have freed yourself from his shackles and escaped his fate.” “And now I’m bound by your chains.” She commented drily. “You’ll fund they are a marked improvement, with much greater potential range.” Until you decide that I am no longer of any use, she thought as Baras brought up a map of the Valley and pointed to a tomb just past the Academy on the right hand side of the valley. “Now, there are sacred ruins in the tomb of Tulak Hord. The ancient inscriptions that once adorned the walls of each ruin lie in pieces. You will venture through the entire tomb, search all of the ruins, and bring me a shard from each of these inscriptions. You will do this or you will die.” She fought to keep her features neutral as a sudden urge to roll her eyes surged. “Vemrin and my other acolytes have already been sent and there are no rules regarding how they secure the shards; they will stop at nothing to get them. Fight your way through the tomb, and bring me the shards from each of the ruined shrines.”

Rather short but hope you enjoy. Prologue – Korriban, Part 9 Darth Baras placed the datapad on his desk and sat back, steepling his fingers. He, like many others at the Academy, had felt the tremor in the Force when the Beast of Marka Ragnos was slain. He had his suspicions and his inquiries had confirmed these suspicions. Tremel was a staunch traditionalist and he had known that he had made preparations for his own initiate to be brought to Korriban out of a misplaced sense of duty towards ensuring the purity of the Sith. Baras had decided to allow it thinking that if nothing else, they would provide suitable motivation for his own group of acolytes. But now. He tapped his fingers against the armrest; he thought both Thanaton and Harkun an idiot for ignoring the potential threat that the Zabrack acolyte posed. They would pay for that mistake and he would not do the same. This acolyte was powerful enough to slay a beast that had ended the lives of countless Sith and it paid to keep powerful individuals were he could easily end them should they prove a threat. He saw Tremels image flicker to life in the periphery of his vision and let the silence stretch. “My lord?” Tremel asked when he could no longer deal with the silence. “Tremel, bring this acolyte of yours too me.” He ordered after a couple of minutes. “My…” Tremel began, but Baras cut him off before the lie could leave his lips. “Do not lie to me. Did you not think I wouldn’t know of your protégé?” He asked letting the silence stretch, as he sensed Tremel’s unease grew. “Send her to me Overseer.” “Yes my Lord.” Tremel answered bowing and Baras ended the call. Sitting back, his mind already began selecting and discarding options. Ultimately regardless of what transpired his endgame would not change, but he required a pawn strong enough to achieve his goals in the interim. If it would prove to be this unknown acolyte then so be it, and if they died it would only serve to make the acolyte who does become his pawn stronger. He smiled underneath his mask as the first of his acolytes entered the room. It was time to begin.

Title: Encounters of a Bartender in a Galaxy Far, Far Away Link: http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=900118 Author: StarHunterChaser Class: All classes make an appearance Owner of the Luck Encounters Cantina in a city on a planet somewhere in the Mid Rim meets various highly important galactic individuals who come to relax at Lucky against a backdrop of intense galactic turmoil. Regardless of who you are - a senator, a Sith, a Jedi, a war hero or the scourge of the underworld - he’ll always serve you and listen to your troubles. Come and pop in anytime you want a drink, and maybe you’ll have an encounter of your own, lucky or otherwise.

This is a collection of stories more than anything else and characters throughout SWTOR will make an appearance. I'll also probably update this thread less regularly than Aindri's one but I will post passages if I have them. Hope you enjoy. A rant about life and buying a ship The bartender watched as the woman slammed her glass back on the counter, sending the ice cubes clacking against the glass and each other. He approached her warily as she slumped at her stool and rested her head on the bar and waved him over. “Shr givashr another… drinks.” She ordered drunkenly. The bartender sighed, she was well and truly hammered. “I think you’ve had enough.” He said gently and attempted to prise the glass from her fingers. “Noshr. Another!” He grimaced. “Look lady, it’s a weekend night and I need to lock up soon, besides don’t you have work tomorrow?” he prodded slightly more forcefully. The woman threw her had back and cackled before slamming her head back down on the counter. “I’msa un… un… unemployed in’t I.” He was about to tell her that he didn’t give a damn and wanted her out of his cantina but she continued. “it’sshr not mys fault… employershr… itshr too dangerous…” the bartender sighed as he sensed the start of a long drunken rant, knowing that the only way it stop was to allow her too run out of steam. Or pass out. Whatever came first. Leaning back against the liquor cabinet he started cleaning the glasses nodding along and threw in a couple of “uh huh” for good measure. “Was like workin’ at Eschange docks… that’s what there uh, called rightshr? Meh. Soshr anyway me workin’ on Nar Shaddaa then shr suddenly… hic… this big str…strapping bloke, allshr done up in shr massive armour and then like starts a shooting. Pew, pew, pew. Thens a zwar them a boom am a bam. Kriff, Kriffin rocketshrs. Shr transporta ships go kaboey. Mes a hidin’ behind thishr crate. Thens gets an opening and…” the lady’s hand shot out causing the bow l of chips to rattle. “Bish causa me not stayin theres. Thenshr next mor… mornin the boss manshr, the arse, goes an’ an’ shr blame it on us… like shrwe could do anythshring aboutch it.” “Boy what’s this galaxy coming too.” He said dutifully and the woman nodded swaying and held up her glass. “Damnshr right. So mess shr quit shr met.” She raised and then threw back the glass. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand she held it out it out again and he obliged. At this rate she was going to pass out before she ranted out, and was going to have a monster hangover. “Then there’s, ah bl… blo… bloody … cus… customs.” She snorted. “Officials, shmerials… theys allshr gotta stickch up their arses. Joined shmugglers crews an stuff, thashr what ya sha supposed ta do rights. Alls a abov board thoughs. Borin as kriff. Dids deals on the shide, guns an stuff. Hates spice, nos spice. Founds out, fired, arr… arrested. Now mes sha wants to strike on ma own. Jus needs a sha ship thoughs. Founds the perfect shr one, lookshr likeshr hunk a junk, is a hunk a junk. ” The woman dragged her arm across the table and scrabbled for her datapad, bringing up an photo of a beat up XS freighter. She raised her glass and drank the golden liquid in one gulp. “But mes finished itshr goin to be fasta hunk o junk in thashr Galaxy!” she shouted drawing angry stairs from the rest of the patrons, not that there were many. She continued to rant and rave jumping from topic to topic; Republic, Empire as the cantina gradually empty until only he and she remained. She mercifully stopped talking and licked the remaining drops of alcohol from her glass. He caught the glass just in time as she dropped it and it rolled off the counter. “shr notta… hic… notta fair… hic.” With that immortal line the woman keeled over to her left and promptly feel from her stool to crash to the floor heavily. The Bartender vaulted the bar and turned her over on her back, only to find her snoring. “Oh for kriffs sake.” He muttered. Resisting the urge to kick the sodding woman in the ribs, he scooped her up and dumped her on one of the sofas before locking the door; well it’s not like he could chuck her out now. Sweeping the floor he dumped all of the crap that had built up during the day into the trash compactor and slammed the chute shut. Looking at the prone figure crashed out on the sofa he dragged a hand over his face and walked up the stairs into the living room to drag a blanket from the cupboard then went back down to throw it onto the woman who was sleeping with a care in the kriffing galaxy. Trudging back up the stairs he went about his normal evening ritual before climbing into bed. The next morning he descended the stairs wearing only trousers, his long dreadlocks hanging loosely down his back. Walking into the cantina’s kitchen he reached into the fridge and started removing cold cuts and juice before rifling through the pantry for a fresh loaf. That was when he remembered the woman from last night; he hadn’t seen her on the sofa when he’d come downstairs. Sprinting back into the main room he looked around before noticing the blanket folded on top of the bar and the note. Thanks for letting me crash here last night and sorry for being such the pain I knew I was. Thought I missed out on getting the ship so was drowning my sorrows but the seller contacted me last night saying the ship was mine. Here’s my holofrequency in case you ever need a favour that’s, let’s say, not exactly within the law. Can help you with legal stuff too but where’s the fun in that. Be seeing you, and again thanks. Bloody typical; no name, no ship model number, just a vague promise so something that he doubted she would stick too. Al least she left a decent stack of credits, one which suggested she was richer than she made herself out to be. He sighed, this was going to be a long day.