Vei: The Road Out; the Journey In

[Morgani]

Don't read this thread if you don't want heavy heavy spoilers for the Sith Inquisitor storyline. I'm writing this up as I play through and some of the dialogue from the game will show up here, that's all Bioware. But I'm better at the moments between moments so I'm embellishing on the class story.

 

This first post is a cross post from the Short Fic Weekly Challenge thread. I had this story going before the prompt What's In a Name? but the beginning fit.

 

What's In a Name?

 

 

It was the first time in her life that she had been transported anywhere and not been in chains.

 

She still felt their heavy weight about her neck and wrists, though she was free. They jangled in the looks she got from the other Acolytes on board. They tugged in the sideways glances, they hung in the whispers shielded behind hands. The Sith Code was bantha ****. Her chains would never be broken.

 

She had nothing that belonged to her but her name. The clothes on her back were borrowed. They were too large for her, the pants drooping sadly at the crotch, the sleeves needing to be rolled up so she could access her hands. The training saber on her back? Rummaged out of a defective pile and handed to her without a word. Her boots were worn through on the soles, a product of their previous owner's inability to stay still. Even the jewelry she wore about her horns was not hers. Tarnished, broken and mended in a dozen different places, it served to remind her where she came from. Where she would certainly be thrown back to if she failed her trails and death over looked her. A half dozen tiny chains laced from one horn to the next, confining, drawing attention, reminding.

 

Her name was Vei. It was all she had. And most of the time, it wasn't allowed to belong to her either. The people that mattered in her life said it as Vay. The Sith and Imperials rarely bothered to stop and ask for any correct pronunciation. She answered to it all, Veye. Vee. Slave.

 

She used to have a secret. An accompaniment to her name. She'd kept a secret all her young life. But she was an adult now. An adult with an adult's face and an adult's body. And other adults, mainly adult men, had begun to take notice. When she had been cornered, when escape was denied her and pain she'd never imagined she'd be capable of feeling was administered with candy sharp breath and hands that seared, she lost her ability to hold on to her secret.

 

The man that owned her had died, painfully twisted and broken, his weapon as pale and shriveled as his face once she got done with him. But her defense had sent a ripple out. The ripple became two then three and now, she was sitting on board a shuttle surrounded by others just like her, only better.

 

She was the only alien among them.

 

The shuttle landed and Vei didn't bother rising to her feet until every one of the other Acolytes had debarked. The sun was already blinding before she stepped onto the landing pad and the air was hot and dry like the back of her throat. The rest of the Acolytes were far ahead of her, gathering themselves around a man she assumed would be her new taskmaster.

 

She took a step toward the group only to be shoved to the side. Vei hadn't seen the man waiting for her at the bottom of the ramp. She was going to have to be more observant from now on. He could have just as easily shived her as shoved her.

 

She couldn't see his face. He wore black robes with a hood low over his forehead. But she saw his hands. Pureblood. Even worse than the humans. He was certain to take exception to her. If she died here on this rock, it would be that one who would have killed her.

 

Anger gripped her throat as he moved away from her. He never once acknowledged her presence. She was that far beneath him. The air about her crackled for a moment. But she was alone on the landing pad and her show of bravado went unnoticed. It was just as well. If she showed her hand too soon, it would be the end of her. Let them underestimate her.

 

They would learn.

 

 

 

I welcome criticism. Vei's personality is a bit vague at the moment but once she gets some companions to bounce off of I think she'll start being someone.

[Morgani]

This post is also cross post from the Weekly Fic Thread. I have brand new stuff, I swear.

 

Harkun

 

 

The taskmaster was actually an Overseer and his name was Harkun. Not that he would introduce himself to her. She would hear it later while listening to the other Acolytes complain. The man was shorter than she would have expected. She could nearly look him in the eye. He kept his hair military short and minimal facial hair adorned his face. His expression was dour and he openly appraised her as she approached.

 

She noted the Pureblood leaving, some sign had passed between him and the Overseer. But Harkun stepped into her line of sight and glowered at her as though she were a mess of bodily fluid someone had left for him to clean up.

 

He was a Force-user. She knew it immediately, the same way she knew how to breathe. And just as she knew instinctively how to breathe, she knew that he wouldn't hesitate to kill her. Slowly, if he could get away with it. He radiated disgust and disdain. And it was all directed at her.

 

He looked her up and down, his expression already writing her off even as he made her feel mere centimeters in height. “I hope you don't think you're special,” he sneered. She was shocked that he actually deigned to address her directly. In front of witnesses.

 

Vei lifted her chin and met him in the eye. She fought to hide her discomfort. She'd never looked anyone but another slave in the eye before in her entire life.

 

Harkun's eyes lit with anger and his nostrils flared. He stared her down and even though she felt her chest constrict, she didn't pull her gaze away. “I'm to rummage through you refuse to find an Apprentice for Lord Zash. I can already pick out who has snow ball's chance on this planet, and who is going to die in misery.”

 

Vei cocked her head, her eyes narrowing. The hate that rolled off the Overseer was nearly comical. She'd yet to open her mouth. If she did that she could really give him a reason to hate her. Even though it went against everything she'd ever been taught, everything she knew to stay alive, she fixed him with a haughty sneer. “Who is this Zash?” she asked.

 

She got the result she expected, or nearly did. Harkun brought his hand up so quickly a couple of the other Acolytes jumped and flinched away. Vei neither moved, nor blinked. She'd been lashed hundreds of times. She had taken canings to the back and to her hands. The knuckles of this short man's hand would barely create a sensation on her cheek. She wasn't afraid of him.

 

Harkun made a show of stopping himself and lowering his hand. “That's Lord Zash to you, slave.” He eyed her, hiding disappointment. She should have cowered. She may prove tough to break.

 

Vei filed the knowledge away for later. There was more to learn, but asking too many questions would probably only serve to get her killed. Harkun gestured harshly and the other Acolytes began to file out. He kept his eyes pinned to hers.

 

“The rest of you know your trial. Get out and try not to die. I'll bring our late comer up to speed.” He said late comer with the same arrogant disdain he'd used to call her slave. Harkun didn't have to be demeaning to be degrading.

 

Vei was acutely aware she was alone with the Overseer. With no witnesses there was much that could be done to her. It was a struggle to keep from reaching for her training blade, just to have something in her hands. Harkun continued to stare at her then moved toward her.

 

She tensed but he stopped just out of arms reach. “In the tomb of Ajunta Pall there is a mad hermit by the name of Spindrall. Find him. Listen to him, if you can comprehend. Complete the trial he asks of you. No doubt you'll die in the process, but there it is. This is your trial, slave. Get out of my sight.”

 

Vei left immediately, working hard to not scurry. She was better than that. She was going to be Sith. If everyone else was going to regard her as more than a slave in Sith's robing, she was going to have to start seeing herself differently as well.

 

She could feel Harkun's eyes on her back like daggers.

 

[Morgani]

New stuff starts here.

 

I'm Sorry, Kory

 

 

She left Spindrall's lair bruised, a little battered and sufficiently bloody. But alive. She felt a rush of victory as she looked over her shoulder and into the shadows of his den. Harkun had called the old hermit mad. Vei didn't think that all. Spindrall saw. He had knowledge of things everyone else didn't want to admit to. So they called him mad and continued about their lives. Spindrall had opened her eyes as well. She would survive this. She would be Sith.

 

She allowed none of the satisfaction to show. There was no telling who was watching, no telling what lurked in the darkened corners. She had only herself here; herself and her name. Vei gripped her training saber tightly and began navigating her way out of the tomb. She couldn't wait to see Harkun's face when she walked into his office.

 

He certainly didn't look pleased. Vei kept her face blank as stone when she entered. The Pureblood was there. He too watched her enter, his expression everything but friendly. Vei stared back at him blandly though the longer she kept his gaze, the more unsure she became. If she looked away first, would that be his victory? Or could she dismiss him as unimportant by putting her eyes elsewhere first? How were these games played? She wished she had more of a frame of reference for these kinds of things.

 

Harkun saved her the trouble. “Always the latecomer,” he droned. The Pureblood glanced at him. “Pay attention, slime.” Vei stopped at the edge of the group and wondered which one of them was slime. She distinctly remembered being latecomer and slave. “Acolyte Kory, step forward.”

 

Vei felt her stomach sink. The only other female in this group of Acolytes, Kory had given her kind words when they crossed each others paths in the tomb. As grateful as she had been, Vei couldn't afford the girl a proper thank you. She had been careful not to be rude to Kory, but she hadn't reached out for the hand of friendship that seemed to be extended her way. There was far too much risk in that. And now...

 

Harkun killed her with as much thought as he gave to which pair of shoes he put on that morning.

 

Vei was very careful not to react. If she showed fear here, she would tip her hand to the Pureblood. Harkun would find a reason to single her out. She watched Kory's body crumple to the floor, wanted to give the girl at least that much recognition. The first indelible sparks of hatred bloomed like fire works in her chest.

 

“Use your hatred,” she heard Spindrall murmur. “Use your fear of him to grow strong.”

Vei was beginning to understand.

 

“All of you, get out. Except our latecomer.” Harkun waved them away as guards dragged Kory's wasted body out of sight. “You all know your trials. You as well, Ffon. Speak to Spindrall. He will certainly see what a credit you are.”

 

Vei kept her chin up as she was once again alone with Harkun. He paced for a moment before her. “Spindrall is a lunatic. Despite what he might have said, his opinion means nothing. Ffon? He will be Lord Zash's new Apprentice and you will be dead. Of this I have no doubt.”

 

“Yet Ffon is on his merry way to prostrate before Spindrall as we speak,” Vei said, surprising herself in her daring.

 

“Whatever it was that Spindrall forced you to do to prove your worthiness and continued right to breathe, it will not be so for Ffon. Ffon is everything you are not. You are nothing, remember that.”

 

“My second trial,” Vei said dryly.

 

Harkun glared at her. “You will go to Inquisitor Zyn in the jails. He has your second trial. I don't want to see you again until you've finished.”

 

“Of course, Overseer,” Vei said as she left, allowing a touch of sarcasm to lace her words.

 

[kabeone]

I'm happy about this thread. SO happy. I can't wait to see what Vei thinks about Lord Zash!

[bright_ephemera]

Looking forward to more.

 

(Eek I'm so bad at thinking up feedback sometimes. Just checking in to say I'm reading and liking it!)

[Earthmama]

Also enjoying it, a little apprehensive, only because the Inquisitor story is the only one I haven't spoiled for myself....but I'm reading anyways because I love your work Morgani, so how can I not?

 

(Also respectfully requesting more Ipha at some point....please? I'll bake you cookies?!)

[Morgani]

Thanks for the interest! I feel bad that I'm spoiling the Inq story for some people. I have a feeling I'll start glossing over the actual quests soon and start telling stories about what happened in between. I'm just like that. That said, there are no spoilers in this little section of the story.

 

No Evil, No Fear; Know Evil, Know Fear

 

 

Flashback

 

Vei had no idea how old she was. As a slave there was no written line of her pedigree, no longer a date carved out to mark her birth. Muzho had assured her once when she had been very young that both her parents had been Zabrak. He'd even claimed that her father's line could be traced back to a warrior clan on Iridonia, the home world. As she grew older she had come to suspect that he was feeding her a line, but as a child she had occupied her nights with self told stories of her father's people. How one day she'd find them again. Maybe they'd be Mandalorian, or maybe they'd be rich smugglers with ships that surfed the stars. She'd never thought about Sith, other than to know it was self preservation to hide from them.

 

Her mother's name had been Urani as far as she knew. Vei had been taken from her before she'd been a year old and sold.

 

As an adult, Vei was intimately familiar with the desire many wives of Imperial officers had to get a hold a slave at an early age and mold her into the perfect accessory. Her Mistress had little to do with her before she was passed toddling age. Her care had been turned over to an aging Zabrak she called Muzho and when she could speak in full sentences and walk without being clumsy, the Mistress began to cultivate her.

 

Two years later she served the Mistress's youngest daughter.

 

The girl had a beautiful bedroom with sweeping picture windows that faced east and Vei always loved going in in the mornings to wake her. Lacy curtains stirred in the breeze making dappled patterns of sunlight across the floor on the days the sun fought through the clouds. On the outskirts of Kaas City it was quiet and the compound large. Everything in the room was frilly, feminine, delicate and lovely. All things Vei had never had in her life. Vei could pretend, just by extension of spending so much time with the child in her room, that she too had that which was frilly, feminine, delicate and lovely. Vei was still too young to know that sharp corners lurked beneath lace and that femininity was considered weak.

 

Millatre complained loudly as she climbed out of her bed and sleepily dressed with Vei's help. The girl was only a few years younger than Vei and had not yet learned the meaning of slavery or property. To her, Vei was the funny colored girl who cleaned her room and brought breakfast and took her to find Mommy in the stables.

 

Vei was not allowed to discipline Milla and she knew that in a few years it was going to cause her problems. But that morning was smooth. Milla was dressed in her finest and excited because she was going to be allowed to eat her breakfast with her parents and the men who were from Imperial Intelligence. Not that that meant anything to either girl.

 

“Quickly, quickly,” Vei sang as Milla shoved her little feet into pristine white shoes. “Mommy's waiting and Daddy's hungry.” Vei reached up and pulled Milla's hand into her lap. “Mommy wants all fingers out of your mouth. Be a good girl.”

 

Milla skipped ahead down the hall and when Vei saw her take her mother's hand before entering the dining room, she slipped off to the kitchen. She was immediately handed a tray laden with tea cups, sugar bowls and cream; the real stuff. Eyes downcast she entered the dining room. Milla chased dust particles while five adults seated themselves about the table.

 

Guests were served first. Vei set delicate tea cups before each of the men but gasped out loud when one of them reached out and snatched her wrist. She ducked her head and he looked her over carefully. “What is this?” he asked, his Imperial accent deep and fluid.

 

“Just our serving girl, my Lord,” the Master said.

 

“Look at me, girl,” the man commanded.

 

Vei's heart was trying to beat out of her chest in terror. The man made her feel ill just being next to him. Her head came up looking straight on at him but her eyes were last to rise. She nearly choked on her own spit when she looked into his face. The veins around his eyes were stark and blue, his skin so pale it was nearly translucent. His eyes were a glimmering red so malevolent, Vei knew she was looking at evil even though she'd never truly encountered such a thing in her life.

 

The tray rattled in her hands as the man looked her over like she was chattel. “What's your name?” he asked sharply.

 

Vei's mouth worked like a fish but no sound corresponded to the movement.

 

“She's called Vie, my Lord,” the Master said, mispronouncing her name.

 

The man tightened his grip on her. “I am Lord Kendec. Remember it,” he said into her terrified face. “Colonel, order another server girl and send this one away.”

 

“At once my Lord.”

 

Kendec dropped her wrist and Vei didn't hesitate. She backed away, the tray shaking in her fists. Someone pulled it from her grasp and shoved her toward the door. She ran full out and didn't stop until she reached the slave quarters. It was only then that she realized at some point she had wet herself.

 

[kabeone]

That last one was entrancing, I kept looking for more. Great stuff!

[SveinEternity]

Fantastic in loved this! I can't wait to see more!

[Morgani]

The Least Attractive Method

 

 

Inquisitor Zyn was delighted that she was punctual. He was a rotund man with facial tattoos like a red star burst and wiry gray hair shaved close to his head. He looked like someone's rather eccentric elderly uncle. The young Acolyte beaten and bound to the table beside him probably had a different opinion.

 

“Ah, Overseer Harkun told me to expect you,” Zyn said happily even as he eyed her reddish orange skin and black facial tattoos. “He didn't tell me you were an alien. Ah, no matter. If you're strong enough to be Sith, you will be Sith.” He gestured cordially at her and she joined him next to the table the young Acolyte was bound to. “But, you were born a slave. You're going to have to learn to let go of your past and start controlling others. You're no longer a slave, though I'm sure Harkun doesn't want you to forget having been one. Start thinking as Sith. Now,” he turned away and ran a gentle hand down the chest of the man strapped to the table. The man ground his teeth and tried not to cry out. “This “Acolyte” here has found himself under an unfortunate set of circumstances. Despite there being a 'no murder' rule here in the Academy, our friend has become a witness to such a crime.”

 

The man turned his face a way and Vei studied him as she listened. She clasped her hands in front of her to stop their shaking and fixed her face to be emotionless. Her stomach felt sick.

 

“He refuses to give up the perpetrator's name. It is tasked to you to retrieve it from him. By any means necessary.”

 

Vei kept her face blank. She was to torture him. The insinuation certainly hadn't gotten by her. The Acolyte risked a glance at her then looked away quickly. She was certain he hadn't found anything comforting in her face. Her gut twisted and she knew Zyn could feel her unease.

 

“I'll just be over here,” Zyn said. “Listening.”

 

Vei positioned herself in front of the Acolyte, blocking his view of Zyn. She looked him over and waited for him to drag his eyes back to her before speaking. “You know this will go better for you if you tell me what I want to know,” she said quietly. Her tongue felt too thick for her mouth.

 

“I can't. I can't tell you. He'll kill me,” the Acolyte pleaded.

 

“Perhaps. That is certainly a possibility. But if you don't tell me, I'll have to hurt you.” She reached out to touch him and hesitated when he flinched. Her gag reflex was up but she could let this poor boy stand between her and becoming Sith. She ran a hand down his arm, trailing small but painful arcs of Force lightning over his skin. He grunted in discomfort. “Tell me the name. Please.”

 

“Please. Please don't hurt me.”

 

“I don't want to. But I will if I must,” Vei said. “The name, Acolyte.” She hadn't thrown up on him yet. What kind of person was she?

 

She let him study her. She hoped her face was a mask of resolve mixed with sympathy. But when he took too long in thinking she gave him a considerable shock. It was nothing that he wouldn't recover from but she felt her stomach try to heave itself up her throat. He looked up at her, weighing, judging. She was nearly ready to beg for the information.

 

Finally he nodded. “If I tell you, you have to protect me,” he said.

 

“Can that be done?” Vei asked Zyn tossing the words over her shoulder.

 

“Oh, I suppose so. Sith are forbade to kill each other. And be caught. The murderer will be put to death, but I can keep him here until the deed is done,” Zyn answered.

 

“There you have it. The name, please?”

 

“His name is Esorr Kayin, he is an apprentice,” the Acolyte said. “Please, don't let him kill me.”

 

Zyn made a sound. “This could be an issue. Esorr Kayin's master is a member of the Dark Council.”

 

“I see,” Vei said, feeling her heart sink. “And therefore afforded special treatment?”

 

“I would be a fool to cross them. But luckily for me I only work in information. Punishment is decided by others.”

 

“You said I'd be protected,” the Acolyte whimpered.

 

“I'll keep him here until something is done,” Zyn said. “You must return to Harkun. I most enjoyed watching you work. You have an interesting... affable-ness to your methods. I wish you luck.”

 

[Morgani]

Storm Warnings

 

No spoilers.

 

 

Her bunk was hard, the blanket threadbare and not long enough to cover her feet. The pillow was little more than a squat box stuffed with what was probably tuk'ata hair. Vei had slept in worse places.

 

Harkun hadn't been happy that Zyn had given her a glowing review. She'd been rather shocked that the old jailer had as well. She hadn't out right tortured the young Acolyte, she'd arranged to keep him safe even. Though if that end of the bargain was being upheld she didn't know.

 

But was it very Sith?

 

Zyn had been saying something to the bound Acolyte as she had been leaving. Something about attracting flies with nectar and excrement, but nectar being more pleasant to lay out. Vei lay awake in her bunk, her back to the wall so she could watch for attack and thought about herself.

 

It wasn't something she had ever done.

 

She had been born into slavery, sold and bought, bartered for and once outright stolen. She'd had kind Masters and cruel ones. She had done all manner of housework and yardwork, she'd raised children from infants and cared for the elderly and invalid. Her lot in life had been accepted.

 

But now that she was free, who was she? She could be Sith, but what did that mean? All the Sith she had met, of which she could count on one hand now that she knew how to count, were barely restrained monsters. Darkness sloughed off their bodies and left shadows instead of footsteps where they walked. They plotted and pitted, killed in the silence between heart beats.

 

Was that who she was?

 

She had seen suffering. She had even turned away from it at times. But she had cared for badly beaten slaves after a whipping. Had soothed Force burns with kolto salve and rocked lonely slave children after nightmares. She had kissed hurts, worked extra chores for ailing slaves, and helped deliver squalling infants to their mother's breasts in dark and filthy quarters.

 

Could she be Sith and still look with wonder on a newborn child, see the miracle to took to create a being that breathed and wiggled and sought comfort?

 

Could she be Sith still empathize, still sympathize?

 

Was peace a lie?

 

Peace was not a lie. Peace was merely the silence before the storm. She had the storm, was the storm. But that didn't mean that she couldn't be preceded by peace. The fury of the storm could be called on in a moment's notice.

 

She would be nectar. And when she made an enemy, she would smother him.

 

[Morgani]

Be the Stone

 

 

The morning saw her deep in the tomb of Marka Ragnos. So far she had decided she liked Ajunta Pall better. She was coated in tuk'ata blood and she tried not to think about the slippery brain she had gingerly put into her bag.

 

She didn't get science. And after this, she didn't want to. The Force could be all mystical and mysterious for her, she was fine with it.

 

In the shadows of the tomb, Vei counted the shyrocks and freed her training saber. She would need to clean the place up before she could get to her objective.

 

Her body moved like music and she reveled in it. She'd never thought she could fight, but when she had opened herself fully to the Force, and had received a few pointers from veteran saber users, she'd learned that she could get her body to do most anything. She preferred using Force lightning, but there was something to be said about bringing her target down on her weapon.

 

When the beasts were dispatched she climbed the stairs and stared at the ancient stone monument that was attributed to Marka Ragnos. Apparently there was a holocron in there. Vei cast her gaze about her, looking for lurkers, pranksters, witnesses. How was she to do what thousands of other Sith had been unable to?

 

She wondered how Ffon was doing, sitting in the elegant library translating texts for the mysterious Lord Zash. She hoped his eyes hurt and his data pad malfunctioned. Maybe he'd get a paper cut or scrape his knuckles on stone. She had honestly had no idea what ancient texts were written on.

 

Wishing ill on Ffon wasn't going to get the monument open. She could see the holocron within the stone, shining through the decorative pattern no doubt some put upon slave was force to carve into the gray rock. Vei paced before it, considering. She glared at the stone, head turning to face it no matter where her body was on the platform. The stone was not scared of her.

 

She needed to get more Sithy.

 

Vei dropped into a kneeling position and meditated menacingly before the monument. The stone rumbled but ultimately did nothing. This was ridiculous. There was something inside the stone. She needed what was in the stone to come out of the stone. How did you get things out of stone?

 

You broke the stone, that's what you did.

 

Vei rose and walked to the edge of the platform. “Open, damn it!” she snarled, nailing the tip of the rock with vicious force lightning. The stone rumbled again and cracked open, revealing a silvery white holocron suspended in its own power. Vei reached out and plucked the holocron from its prison and looked it over. It would be embarrassing to bring the holocron back to Harkun if she had fried it. But it looked fine, twinkling with energy and Sith secrets. Harkun was going to be pissed. The thought made Vei smile.

 

[kabeone]

Be the Stone

 

 

 

She didn't get science. And after this, she didn't want to. The Force could be all mystical and mysterious for her, she was fine with it.

 

 

I loved this whole thing, but I laughed pretty hard at this line.

[Morgani]

Lord Zash

 

 

“Tell me!”

 

The blow to her face was barely felt. Vei closed her eyes to protect them, relaxed her neck to absorb the strength behind the strike. Harkun lifted his hand again then inexplicably backed off. Vei waited another moment with her eyes closed and when there was nothing else, she turned her head and looked at him.

 

He was seething, but he was considering her carefully. “I will say it again, slave. Is this holocron fake? Did you steal it from the library?”

 

Vei tested her jaw a couple of times before answering. She would be bruised, but nothing was broken. Harkun had held back on her. “No, Overseer,” she said quietly. “I did as you instructed and I freed the holocron from Marka Ragnos's tomb.”

 

Harkun paced, his eyes never leaving her face. Fear welled in her chest and she fought viciously against it trying to find hate, passion, anything that would keep her hands from shaking. She couldn't read the look in Harkun's eyes. There was something there. Something dark and heavy. The hate she felt coiling off him was not for her alone. He was angry at himself. For what she had no idea. He was unpredictable now. She would have to tread more carefully.

 

“I'll deal with you later,” he said finally and pulled his gaze from her.

 

It was like a weight had been lifted off her chest. Harkun regarded the other Acolytes harshly. Vei could see the muscles in his jaw working. They ticked with tension. Someone else was about to die.

 

“Gerr. Step forward.”

 

The man was huge. He was also terrified. It made him sad instead of scary. He stepped free of the group and stood before Harkun, cowed and beaten.

 

Harkun looked him over with a dead eye. “Ffon. Kill him.”

 

“With pleasure,” the Pureblood snarled.

 

Gerr tried to run. Fool. Coward. Vei sneered as Ffon cut him down. Weak. Not worthy of being Sith. She did not mourn him.

 

“Now you see how easily Ffon will cut you down. All of you. Remember you are nothing. Now go. You know your trials. You, slave. Stay with me.”

 

Vei did not like his wording. She stood still, her cheek throbbing and blood in her eye. Harkun waited until the others had filed out before standing before her. His eyes drifted over her cheek, the dark spot that was already forming on her light red skin.

 

“When did you get your markings?” he asked quietly.

 

The question took her by surprise. He stared at her until she answered. “Before I came to Korriban. The man who marked me adopted me into his legacy. I wear his clan tattoos.”

 

“In another life, you may have been Sith. But not in this one.” He almost sounded regretful. “Deep in the tombs of Tulak Hord is a text Lord Zash wants. You will retrieve it. Actually, you will probably die as you attempt to retrieve it. But that is your trial. Leave me.”

 

Vei backed away from him, not trusting him with her back. Another tomb. Go figure.

 

 

Ajunta Pall. She had liked him better. Kor'slugs and looters and poachers. She could get behind those. Those she could kill.

 

Tulak Hord? Bad news.

 

With the text in her hand she went back to Harkun. It was animal skin, probably tuk'ata. The writing looked like ancient blood and most likely was. She couldn't read it. She probably wasn't supposed to.

 

Dirty and bruised she turned the corner to Harkun's office. But there was someone waiting for her. Vei tensed at the power she could feel rolling off the woman. Vei took her training blade in hand and stopped. The woman turned to her, openly appraised her. Then she smiled.

 

“You. You are the slave, my apologies, the Acolyte who recovered the holocron from the tomb of Marka Ragnos, are you not? Well, come on girl. Answer me.”

 

“I am,” Vei said hesitantly.

 

“How wonderful. I am Lord Zash. What is your name, girl?”

 

Vei released her saber. This woman could tear her apart if she wanted to. There was no point in standing armed in the halls of the Academy. “I am called Vei, my lord.”

 

“Vei, such a pretty name. Is it Zabrak?”

 

“I... do not know, my lord.”

 

Zash waved her hand dismissively. “It's no matter. Slave lines get all jumbled up anyway. Now, do tell me. After a thousand years imprisoned in that tomb, how did you free the holocron?”

 

Vei considered lying but thought better of it. Zash would mostly likely sense it right away. But the truth was so ridiculous, she feared it would be taken as a lie. But it was all she had. “I shot lightning at it until it opened, my lord.”

 

To her surprise and relief, Lord Zash laughed. “Indeed? Why didn't anyone else think of that? Such a simple solution should have been seen. Careless? Or perhaps, we were not meant to open it. Such power. Such a destiny as well? Oh, yes. I have my eye on you, young Vei.”

 

Vei glanced down the hall. “Overseer Harkun favors Ffon,” she said quietly. She didn't know why, but Zash was putting her at ease. She almost thought nothing of giving the Sith Lord her opinion.

 

“Harkun's job is to weed out the weak. Other than that, he is nothing,” Zash said with a shrug.

 

Vei didn't miss how Zash turned Harkun's second favorite phrase around to use on him. It tickled something inside her but she held her tongue this time. She didn't truly know this Sith. The friendly attitude, the casual banter, this could all be falsehood.

 

“I shouldn't keep you from your trials any longer,” Lord Zash said. “I will certainly be keeping an eye on you. Good luck, Acolyte Vei.”

 

“Thank you, Lord Zash.” But the woman was gone.

 

[Morgani]

Wrought

 

 

 

Harkun, and by extension, Ffon, waited for her return. She was getting tired of seeing the Pureblood's sneering face. When he bothered looking at her at all.

 

“I was just about to declare you dead,” Harkun said unhappily. “Where's the text?”

 

“It is in my hand, Overseer.”

 

“Well, give it here. What took you? Ffon was just on his way out for his next trial.” Harken snatched the text as he spoke, barely glancing at her.

 

Vei wasn't sure why he was asking. He didn't really care about the answer. She decided on the truth just so she could see his reaction. She shrugged one shoulder and tossed her hair gently with an air of nonchalance. “Lord Zash and I ran into each other. We discussed a few of the things that make me great and parted ways. Of course, I came right back here.”

 

“Lies,' Harkun dismissed. “Lord Zash would tear you limb from limb as soon as look at you, slave. I don't appreciate your attitude.”

 

“I didn't realize I was here to play nice,” Vei snapped. Her conversation with Zash had done much to allocate her fear. Now she held onto anger, let it power her and her tongue.

 

“Why don't we just kill her?” Ffon asked, his tone bored.

 

Vei glared at him as Harkun waved the thought away. “Not allowed. And she would not be a worthy opponent. She barely knows how to fight. Slave, go to the training room and work with the instructors. I don't want to see you again until they have been satisfied.”

 

“Ffon can come,” Vei said airily. “I could show him a better grip for his training saber.”

 

Ffon shuddered in revulsion and bared his teeth at her. Harkun stood abruptly from behind his desk. There was a smirk on his face for a brief instant, though she was suddenly unsure who it was directed at. He caught her eye, measured her in a way that made her skin crawl then flicked his hand at her. “Go. Now. And do try not to cut your arm off.”

 

Vei couldn't leave fast enough.

 

She was not bothered on her way to the training room. In fact, the other Acolytes seemed to give her a wide berth. A few of them whispered to each other as she passed. She wondered if her conversation with Lord Zash was now public knowledge. She was used to being regarded with hate, that was par for the course just by nature of being Sith. But this was different. She wasn't reading jealousy in the faces of those that avoided her. Hatred, pity, cold interest on some. It raised her hackles and made her wary. If she had learned anything in her time on Korriban, it was to trust those feelings. Her gut would go a long way to keeping her alive.

 

The training room was dark when she entered, her first clue that something was amiss. The room began to illuminate itself on it's own, just by virtue of her having entered so it didn't take her long to spot the two shadows that stood out from the other shadows. She turned to face them, realizing they were two of her group mates. Her stomach twisted and sank and she knew what they were there for before they spoke.

 

Vei forced herself to relax as she watched the older one come toward her. What was his name? Kory and Gerr were dead, one of the others had gotten lost and killed in the tomb. The ones before her... Ah yes, brothers Wydr and Balek. Barely Force sensitive, Balek was timid and soft spoken. Wydr had spent a lot of time covering for him and standing up to Harkun. Wydr had a swagger to him, one born of familiarity of his size rather than true confidence. They would be fodder beneath her blade. It was really very sad.

 

“Sorry mate,” Wydr said, ever the alpha brother. “We don't like this any more than you do. Well, maybe we like it a little more, but you know.”

 

“What did he promise you?” Vei asked. She knew where this was going and she knew she should have just gone on the offensive, but if there was a way to talk them down she felt she needed to take it. Killing them was not fair to them.

 

“Look, we like you. We really do,” Balek said. His soft voice seemed out of place coming from his big body.

 

“But Harkun said we could go home if we killed you,” Wydr finished. “We know we can't beat Ffon.”

 

“And we'll never be Sith,” Balek continued. “But if we can just go home, we have to do this. I'm sorry.”

 

“You won't win,” Vei said sadly. “Your lives are forfeit here.”

 

“Enough,” Wydr growled, trying to raise his brother's spirits. “Get your blade, Vei. It's time to do this.”

 

Wydr rushed her before he had completely finished the sentence. Vei dove to the side and rolled to her feet, bringing her training blade up and activating it. She blocked a sloppy blow from Balek and spun on the ball of her foot, using the momentum to divert a swing from Wydr. They separated and backed up. She knew what they were planning, they telegraphed their thoughts in their faces, the placement of their eyes. Balek was going to get her attention giving Wydr a chance to move around behind her to take her by surprise.

 

They would never be Sith. She was already becoming Sith. They could not beat her.

 

Balek swung out using his limited grasp of the Force to pull her toward him. Vei let herself jerk forward but continued the trajectory as she tucked her chest to her knees and rolled under his strike. She came to her feet with her blade already singing an arc toward him and he barely got his saber up to block.

 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Wydr looking for his opening. She hit him with lightning quickly, enough to take him to his knees. Balek was on top of her again and she concentrated the Force around her and gave him a hearty push, giving her space.

 

It wasn't anger she saw in his face, it was fear. It made him weak and hesitant. He fell back to Wydr's side, instinctively checking on his brother. She let him have the breather. Wydr climbed to his feet and leapt at her, his saber high. Vei dodged easily, spun and cut her training saber deep into his gut. Wydr crumpled to the ground as Balek cried out.

 

His attack was sloppy and shaky. Vei could only be merciful and end him quickly. As Balek lay on the floor bleeding out beside his brother she knelt and placed a hand on his chest.

 

“I will beat Ffon,” she promised him. “For you and all the other trainees who couldn't go home. He will fall.”

 

She saw him nod once and then he was gone. His empty eyes stared unfocused at the ceiling, his hand stretched out by his side just inches from Wydr's. Vei sat quietly for a time and contemplated the necessity of their deaths.

 

Evening was falling when she left the training chamber. Harkun would have vacated his office more than an hour ago. He would find out in the morning that she yet lived. It was expected of her that she eat with the other Acolytes. It was in her best interest to make herself visible. The absence of Balek and Wydr would be noticed.

 

She wasn't hungry.

 

[kabeone]

I like this especially because I played through these scenes and it's much more interesting reading it from your POV.