10I own nothing of the licensed content involved in this story.
I know I promised to expand on Academy life, but every time I tried writing it I would get nowhere and end up deleting it in frustration. So, for the sake of actually continuing the story, I've skipped it for the most part.
I hope no one is too disappointed over the exclusion.
.
.
.
Peace is a lie. There is only Passion.
Through Passion I gain Strength.
Through Strength I gain Power.
Through Power I gain Victory.
Through Victory my chains are Broken.
The Force shall free me.
I'd seen enough of the Sith present in the academy to know that the dark side twisted and corrupted, the pleasure they all seemed to take in the pain of those around them was vile.
Yet still…I couldn't deny just how much sense the code seemed to make.
All of it, but the first line.
"Peace is a lie," what would life be like if I ever truly believed that?
What was the point of passion if it was always chaos without reason?
What was the point of strength if it only ever brought me into more conflict?
Power and victory were supposed to be a way to end the conflict, to achieve peace. To endlessly run after power just to have it…what kind of life was that supposed to be?
I looked down at the three bodies at my feat, they had come to murder me, on the orders their master, a Darth named Skotia.
A year ago when I killed those acolytes in the tomb of Ajunta Pall, it left me near catatonic for days. Now…I barley felt a twinge at having killed them.
Khem Val towered behind me, a silent sentinel, basking in his afterglow that bloodshed always seemed to bring him. My Dashade companion was an odd creature, I expected it would take a great deal of time to be truly comfortable in his presence.
Perhaps around the time he stops grumbling about devouring me…
Nevertheless, he was still far more loyal than all but a few of the friends I had made at the academy. It was difficult, making actual friendships and not just temporary alliances in this place. Most of the other slaves only wanted someone stronger to cling to, many ended up as lackeys for the stronger acolytes.
An then later their fodder, as the trails grew progressively more difficulty.
Unless your name was Ffon Althe, of course. Then you just get to sit in a library and translate texts while others fight through tombs, turned death traps.
I couldn't fight the slight twitch of my lips as I remembered the sight of Zash killing him.
Honestly, it really was the highlight of an otherwise exhausting day.
Silently, I crept from the corridor. Technically, I was no longer an acolyte, and there for couldn't be punished for blatant murder on academy grounds. With Harkun's grudge though, I wouldn't put it past him to raise a fuss as soon as Lord Zash was off planet.
The thought of her sent a shiver down my spine, the look in her eyes when she had officially declared me her new apprentice…there was a hunger there. It wasn't a physical one, I'd been on the end of those a few times during my stay here, and this was far more disturbing.
She looked at me like I was something to be devoured.
"Maris!"
I had just turned as an arm suddenly appeared around my shoulders, the dark red Twi'lek attached to it grinning like the fool he so often pretended to be. Though I suppose that's unfair, Oren was a naturally upbeat and kind person.
How he came from a distinguished line of Sith I'll never understand.
"I take it Vemrin is dead then?" At his enthusiastic nod, I could only chuckle. "Congratulations, from one newly minted Sith to another."
"Ha, I always told Ffon his arrogance would get him killed one day. So, I finally met Darth Baras, I tell you he's a right creepy bastard. I mean what's with the mask AND WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?" He screamed and used his free hand to point behind me, his eyes bulging as he took in the lumbering form of muscle that is Khem Val.
His constant dramatics were always entertaining if nothing else. "Oren, meet Khem Val, an ancient Dashade assassin who once served Tulak Hord. Khem Val, meet Oren, youngest son of Darth Palrin, and Imperial Moth Loral Crenisan."
"Hmm, hmm." Oren looked at me expectantly, like a parent would a misbehaving child.
"He is also a dear friend, and my endless source of entertainment." I couldn't let the smug smile on his face stay, so a looked back over my shoulder a Khem, "Try not to eat him…unless you really have to."
Oren threw me a mock glare and a pout before his head snapped to the side, his lips pulling into a bright smile. I followed his stare to see a blue Twi'lek walking down the corridor, her hands constantly twitching towards the blasters strapped at her hips.
It didn't take a genius to see she was nervous at being in the heart of the Sith Academy, her stride was still confident though, her head high as if daring anyone to challenge her right to be there.
Brave girl, no wonder Oren was looking at her like a love-struck idiot.
Not so gently, a shoved my elbow into the fool's side. He grunted and cut his eyes to mine with a halfhearted glare, "Your drooling."
He scoffed, but I saw the amusement in his eyes.
"I knew if I stuck around long enough, you'd grow a sense of humor."
"I don't know if it counts when I only use facts to mock you though." He snorted out a small laugh before taking his arm from my shoulder and moving to greet the smaller Twi'lek.
"Vette, darling. Meet my friend and hapless sidekick, Maris Kallig." He made his introduction with a grand speewing bow, she just rolled her eyes at his antics. I could still see the twitch of her lips that betrayed her.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Vette." I reached out my hand, she paused for a moment, but took it none-the-less. "A special kind of person is required to handle Oren, I hope you're up to the challenge."
"Hey!" Oren squawked from the side, a hand going to his "wounded heart" as he feigned offense.
"Oh, I don't know, the Sith doesn't seem all that bad so far." Her hand reached up to scratch at her neck, but she caught herself before it went all the way up. I looked to her neck to see the familiar shape of a shock collar.
When my eyes flickered to Oren, he simply shook his head, and mouthed "later".
We started on our way to the acolytes' quarters, there were a few things I had gathered during my time journeying through the corrupted sands of the planet that I wouldn't willingly leave behind.
"So, I take it you'll be boarding the transport to Korriban Station with me?" I expected a simple agreement, but instead he shook his head, before flushing slightly in embarrassment.
"Afraid not, my mother's Dreadnought is in the system. She's off for a routine patrol in Balmorra space and wants to see me before I get bogged down in whatever Baras has planned." Oren scratched the back of his neck, easily the picture of an embarrassed son, "She has one of her transports waiting for me at the star port."
"I would invite you to come along, Maris, but I'll probably be a week later than you in reaching Dromund Kaas."
I just waved him off, spending the next week or so interacting with an Imperial Moth wasn't my idea of pleasant travel either. "No worries, just get in touch when you finally get planet side, alright?"
"Will do, just stay alive until I get there. An remember, don't do anything stupid, at least not yet." His eyes were serious then, burrowing into my own. I just nodded, and we parted to our individual chambers.
"Don't do anything stupid…" He'd said that to me more than a few times in our adventures here, but I don't think he ever meant it until I told him of my intentions to hunt down the Sith responsible for killing my parents.
Oren had cut those plans short though, telling me of the punishments that normally followed blatant murder between Sith. If I wanted my revenge, I'd have to build up a powerbase strong enough to ward off anyone thinking to strike at me after.
As I entered my quarters, it felt so odd to know that the other three acolytes that had once shared the space were dead. Two of them by my own hand, and the other at Ffon's.
I went to the standing locker beside what had been my bed, there wasn't much I needed, but waht little I gathered in the tombs was coming with me.
The rules of the Academy required we all remain in the, mostly, unarmored acolyte suit we had all been issued after the first three months of "basic education". I stripped easily, tossing the worn garb on the mattress, but taking greater care in lying my new lightsaber down.
The fabric was soft as silk, but, according to Oren, stronger than most standard issue Imperial troop armor. I gently took the black robe out of the locker, lying it down as I retrieved the armored shirt, pants, and boots.
It had been a stroke of luck that I'd stumbled onto the body of a recently killed Sith when hunting through the tomb of Tulak Hord, searching for his personal records on Harkun's order. The Sith had likely thought the dangers of the Tomb too "beneath him" to keep his guard up.
Judging by the wounds on his face, someone had clearly forgotten to tell him that the grey shyrack's claws were coated in a lethal poison. He couldn't have died long before I arrived; the creatures had yet to begin eating him.
"Looking like a Sith, does not make you one." Khem Val announced in his rumbling baritone. Not for the first time I was amazed by the Imperial issued translators, that it had any data on Dashade had to have been at a Sith historians order.
It wasn't exactly a common language after all, Khem Val was the first living Dashade in Imperial space for over a millennium.
"Your words of wisdom overwhelm me, truly."
Ignoring his continued grumbling, I finished dressing and snapped the clasp of my lightsaber to left side of my belt. The robes dragged a little, and the belt had to be pulled tighter to hold the loose fabric of the thinly plated shirt in place, but all in all it was a much-needed upgrade.
I doubt Dromund Kaas is going to be any safer than Korriban...
Reaching out, I pulled the data pad I had been using from the locker and placed it into one of the larger pockets lining the inside of the robe. The academy supplied data pads we're allowed to take with us, they provided a link to the Korriban archives for easy access.
They also tracked our every use of them.
After finding that little bit of information out, I'd went to the tech specialists at the academy, a few favors later, and I'd gotten myself an unregistered data pad. It turned out to be a good decision, when Ffan would occasionally taunt me about my lack of progress.
"How could they expect this disgrace to learn our ways, the slave can barely read." I smiled as I remembered the off-hand insult, it told me I was right to be slightly paranoid. Harkun had been monitoring my study habits, and reporting them to Ffon.
Lastly, I grabbed the leather holstered hold-out blaster, a gift from Sergeant Rikel, for helping retrieve some artifacts from renegade acolytes.
Clipping it to the back of my belt, I turned to Khem Val, "Ready to finally leave this place?"
Receiving only a grunt from the giant, I walked from the chambers and back out into the Academy proper. There was no fan fair or tearful send offs, the only friends I'd managed to make, other than Oren, were already dead.
As I neared the Korriban space port I couldn't help but give into a moment of optimism. Just maybe I'd manage to make it to Dromund Kaas without someone, or something, trying to kill me.
Perhaps I would have, if I hadn't taken the advice of the traffic controller on the Imperial Station, and boarded the Black talon.