A/N: I acknowledge this is not my property, you know who it belongs to because half of the industry also belongs to them.
Read and Review, but if not that's fine. Not really into pushing things. If you have any suggestions or critiques, please feel free. I'd prefer that over accusing me of heresy or some shit about my writing. I have an overarching idea about this but I'm not set, so again feel free with suggestions. I like to write, I think it helps with a lot of things so I decided to try this. Yay me.
This is an even paced story, so please give it about 3 chapters before deciding if it's not for you. I won't lie, the first chapter is more of a ground setting so it's hard to get a proper feel this early on. So again, at least try one or two chapters.
This is kinda an alternate version of the Old Republic. A lot of the characters or events may be the same but I feel like changing them or adding new ones for the sake of adding a surprising element to the plot. Also, while I'm a fan, I don't know everything about everything. So please be patient and forgiving with me on that angle.
Also, I don't like rushing things. I kinda hate stories where the characters are automatically the best, the coolest and are infallible for no legitimate reason. That being said, I'll probably be a hypocrite so forgive me haha. I want to build their path to the dark naturally as well as their developments with each other and their skills evenly. So please don't be annoyed if they loss fights or aren't amazing :P
I also lack an editor so please forgive any typos.
Have fun.
No. 1 Introductions.
The arid and almost evaporative air is already a nightmare for those that have to wait in it. Five seconds in and the urge to return to the temple is already becoming an enticing thought. Although it's doubtful that they'd let anyone so much as turn in a few moments before being shot in the back. The thought of being forced to go forward is exciting and enthralling to some while others view it as enough to make their spines fuse with the desire to sob on the inside. The elders and overseers are well versed in being able to pick the two and use them against each other. After all, the greatest metals are forged in the hottest of flames.
The human eyes the black armoured guards around him, standing stiffly on the platform with thick blaster rifles in both their hands. Rarely do any of the newcomers have any power that could cause any actual risk, thus needing someone with a saber or any actual skills is hardly needed. Thus, using a blaster to chop down anyone who tries to run or be aggressive is far more practical. The human taps his hips impatiently, chewing his dry and cut lips as his sun kissed brows furrow in agitation. The shuttle is always late, especially with the newcomers. Traffic on Korriban is rare, mostly military or officials. The system is hardly the place for tourists or even the average soldier. Most Sith actually prefer to avoid it altogether once they've been passed off to a master or given a mission. Something about the billions of deaths, souls of those dead and the concentration of pure darkness is something of a turn off. It's hard to figure out why.
After another two minutes the human chuckles angrily before tightening his black cotton top and straightening the two sides of fabric that flow either side of his legs. It's irritating to say the least to be out of traditional armour and be shoved into dress attire but the council is always one for formalities. Especially when the guests could potentially be slaughtering their enemies in the next several years. That, or die trying. Or be killed during training. Or before even starting. He lets out a tiny scoff at the thought. Their graduation numbers were always smaller than their delightful Jedi counterparts. But one must never prefer quantity over quality. A thought that's shared by many on the council and higher ranking officials, and one that's soothed many a frustration over the numbers between the two forces. That being said, even the greatest of warriors struggle over a thousand enemies by himself.
He turns to the lieutenant beside him, watching as she apathetically scans her pad and idly fixes her grey uniform as well, occasionally tugging some blonde strands above her tiny yet thick military cap. She's a small thing and he bites his lips, slightly disgruntled by the fact she's no doubt off limits. Anyone official of major use is. Too many people have died due to the lust of someone who just wants a quick one for ease of the stress. A shame. They need more comfort girls here soon. She soon jerks her head up and he follows her gaze, seeing a shadow pass through the large orbital defence turrets and missile launchers. He takes his hand off his saber, finally seeing his task arrive.
The shuttle is a simple transport with a large grey frame and only two pilots. The rest of the ship is merely seats and areas to stand, lacking even a restroom or place to eat or drink. The shuttle can't even move past systems, instead relying on the larger cruisers and transports for that. Still, they have their uses, such as this. The rectangular vessel turns on its side and lands with its left facing towards the man and his soldiers where a large door is held.
The man turns to his men silently and as he faces back the sound of blasters charging enters his ears. The engines cool off for a few moments before the large door opens, revealing about a dozen or two forms of varying shapes and sizes. Most of them are humans, no older than twenty with some looking around fifteen, while some are less…desired. The man feels bile form as he takes note of two Twi'leks, a Togruta, several Zabrak and even a Chiss amongst the other aliens.
The Empire must be desperate for recruits. That or they've finally replenished the student's service women and men. The man narrows his eyes at them and some of them stare straight back at him while others keep their eyes lowered. The smallest is a short human male with dark skin and fizzy brown hair while the largest is the Togruta, although that may be because her species naturally has a slightly larger frame than most, possibly due to the horns. Still, the force is stronger with the more pure blooded of the species and not some savage with tendrils and horns like a jacked bull. A faint smirk touches his lips. She'll no doubt be the first to die. I doubt any master will pick her aside from…other duties.
The lieutenant begins reading off the datapad, summoning their names and each one steps forward as instructed until no one responds to one of them. The man and his underling exchange a glance before they look at the students again. He prepares to taunt the missing individual before a drawl enters the area.
"We had a minor disagreement." The voice answers from behind the students and the man smirks as they all stiffen.
A large man cloaked in dark robbed with a badge holding it together on his shoulder emerges from the shuttle. His height rivals that of the Togruta and is at least a head more than anyone else. The tiniest of the recruits barely registers compared to him. The overseer smiles briskly, even opening his arms to offer the recruiter a stiff embrace.
"Only one dead? An improvement over last year's massacre." The overseer laughs and for a moment the recruiter joins.
"The kid thought he'd like to argue about the methods of training. Least he doesn't have to suffer now." The recruiter laughs before trudging off towards the immense building cut into the red mountain behind them.
Most recruiters drop the students off then immediately start hunting more down for another group in six months. It was a constant job but very well supplied by the council. Some of the recruits look relieved at his absence and the overseer smirks. It was no doubt a very blunt and equally graphic resolution of the argument. He notices the sweat already forming on their cheeks and wonders how many of them blame the heat or their dread. He clicks his tongue and smiles brightly.
"Welcome to Korriban! Our holy land. More power has been born here than anywhere else. So you'd better respect and honour that fact. Only the worthy enter here and only the," He glances at the nonhumans, "purest should leave it. I am Lord Scutus. Overseer of the younger recruits. I'll be handling your training here until it's felt that you can handle a master. And if that day seems like it'll never come, odds are it won't." He laughs again, rubbing his hands eagerly before looking them over again. "We will oversee both theoretical and practical learning. A soldier who cannot think is worse than a soldier who cannot fight. At least, this council deems so. Some ground rules. No murdering your…friends without purpose. Revenge and cunning is one thing, blatant waste of resources is another. That being said, don't come complaining if you've been poisoned…or failed to keep the legs shut." He eyes the females and then glances to the males, "Masters are the law. Disobey them and they will kill you. They don't tolerate egos. I don't care to be honest how many, if any, survive this temple. Only the best deserve the honour of being Sith. The rest…hmm. I'm sure you've already seen that."
Some nod softly and he grins predatorily again, showing off some yellow teeth. For a man only in his mid-thirties, the strains of combat have already taken a major strike to his shape. Without a word, he turns and heads up towards the guarded steel trail that heads to the temple. The students march on, some far more eager than the rest.
The temple itself is younger than the Sith actually want to admit. While the oldest rooms and basis for the force are as old as the legacy of those dead in Valley of the Sith, the majority of the massive structure is only a few hundred years old. Most of it is cut into the red rock, originally a defensive measure from their enemies. The older areas are made of dark green stone, imported from a planet that hasn't been located yet while the newer areas are steel and silver with barely any glass at all. The front is merely plain steel walls with red lights placed in the shape of windows and put where windows would be if they had any. The structure itself is massive, hundreds of rooms for food, training, reading, resting and meetings. While not the capital, the majority of the meetings relating to the Sith are held here. Even the capital has been infiltrated more times than admitted. Yet despite the size, the lack of windows and how tightly strung the rooms are make it very claustrophobic. Another layer of dread to add to the place.
The other structures littering the valley are mostly massive defensive measures or barracks for the guards while the valley to the dozens of tombs, each holding their own personification of hell.
The grandmaster sighs irritably as he rubs his wispy chin, idly contemplating a quick shave before meeting the new recruits. At least this year some survived the transport over from the cruiser.
If only Vilius wasn't so damn deep in the council's favour, I could remove him from scouting the younglings. He sighs before opening a bottle of brandy and rolling his head back. For a man only just reaching his forties, he should be honoured for this role. But in reality, it's a punishment. A punishment for one seeking to fight and being told to sit and play teacher. Not even teacher, organiser. The stench of the children is amongst gag worthy. Twenty years of suffering and warfare and now a hell that couldn't even be imagined by the devils of old. He massages his short, greying black hair and unbuttons the plated steel armour on his shoulders before reaching forward to the glass.
"Another, if you please." A light, regent voice murmurs.
A man in his late fifties enters, holding his pointed chin up high as he sweeps into the room. His uniform is pure white with several multi-coloured badges on his right breast. He even boasts a white cape with a silver underside to match it. And to finish it all off is a sash made from silver and jewels strapped against his chest to his hip. His worn blue eyes shift as he forms a smile, nodding at the grandmaster. Always the austriocrat. He remains silent but gains a second glass, refusing to stand up as the second man pours himself some Corellian brandy.
"To what do I owe this pleasure, Grand Admiral?" The grandmaster asks in a low tone as his superior reaches forward.
The Grand Admiral sighs peacefully as the golden liquid burns his throat pleasantly before reforming his grin at the man in front of him.
"How are things Verrik? Well I hope?" He asks and Verrik rolls his eyes.
"Cut the crap. What do you want?" He asks briskly as he finishes his glass in one loud swig.
The Grand Admiral never loses his smile. Instead, he peers at the floor before answering.
"How long have we known each other? Twenty years? You were an apprentice and I was a mere trainee and we had that ghastly mission on…" Verrik slowly places a hand on the silver and grey cylinder on the table but the Grand Admiral almost laughs, "I am supreme commander of the imperial military. My power is only second to that of the Emperor. You won't touch me."
Verrik scoffs and leans forward, not leaving his grip on his lightsaber.
"I have links to the coun-".
"Oh hush. We both know you don't anymore." He murmurs and Verrik rises angrily, "Your failure at Tatooine saw that. That's why you're here, correct?" He asks in almost a whisper before pouring them both another round. "I want a favour, a trade if you will."
Verrik's laughter could almost be heard from the capital as he points a finger at him.
"You…You arrogantly storm in here and demand a deal. You still haven't changed from that pompous boy who almost got us killed." He sneers as he takes his newly filled glass.
"We can't deny…it was fun." The Admiral smiles, almost genuinely, and they both shared a glass, although Verrik keeps his sneer. "The Dark Council have asked me to…Hmm. Context first. We're losing to many Sith. Now I'd prefer a good bombardment over…mysticism, however, those in power disagree. Students are dying in the field faster than you're producing. I'm here to rectify that and-"
"I will not lower the standard of teachings here at the academy. Hell, this means we should increase their training so they stop dying."
The Admiral stares into his drink, nodding softly before turning to Verrik.
"I said the same. But the Dark Council were never strategists."
"Ooooh. Be careful. That sounds like treason." Verrik mocks.
"No. It's criticism. They're just…old. I want a compromise. Start sending the students on practical missions as soon as deemed possible. That way we have more soldiers without needing to lessen the standards. In a way, it's increasing them like we suggested." He finishes his drink while Verrik stares at him carefully, thinking over a possible angle.
His old friend didn't achieve such a rank due to honesty. No, many a superior was conned and many colleagues disappeared in order to even become commander. He leans back, reluctantly becoming curious.
"What do I get?" He asks slowly and the Admiral grins as he pours another round for them.
"You may be hated by the council for your failure. I answer only to one. I get strong suggestions from the council but I still only answer to him."
"Despite never meeting him?" He chuckles and smirks "Well I-".
"Haven't either. I know that for a fact." He counters with a wink. "I'll have you removed from this…delightful position and given a command again. A military command. Maybe even a cruiser. As long as you make this a success. Because Verrik, if this fails, I'll..."
He pauses, his face losing the confidence he previously adorned and concern graces his features. His throat tightens as his Adam's apple bops slightly before losing focus again. Verrik knows the expression all too well. He's held it very often recently. He doesn't need to read emotions to understand pure dread.
"The war isn't working, is it?" He asks slowly, picking his words carefully.
"We're not losing. Just…not winning either." He admits before drinking softly, "Have we got a deal?"
Verrik chews his lip for a moment. He's literally holding both their necks out for this but he sees the advantages of it. There's no progress from this place otherwise and if he gets killed for cutting down the students, so be it. Death at least holds its own rewards and is hardly as stagnate as this. A position such as this holds literally prospect of advancement as it technically is the highest rank in this field. Any chance of holding some influence or connections with future students are cut due to their masters having own ideals or schemes. There really is no end to this purgatory by itself. He nods stiffly and they raise the remainder of their drinks before finishing them.
"Together, we will try to fix the poor standards of my underlings. Hopefully some students can replace my military board." He jokes as he tries to become sombre.
"I'll do my best. For old times' sake." Verrik grunts and the Admiral straightens his suit.
"Well, enjoy your new students." He says in a low voice.
Verrik nods silently and removes the brandy while the Admiral exits the rooms, a hungry grin forming on his face as he licks his chapped lips.
The living quarters are smaller than originally imagined. Twenty single, stacked bunks spread out and lined against the walls, one above another so to save the space. Beside each stacked bunk are two crates, for each occupant's belongings while the middle of the rectangular room is just a small carpet with purple mixed into the dark blue. The lights look old and the circuits barely function probably while there's a single restroom in the corner. The walls are scarred horribly, with the remains of some very disgruntled students still being here. The students shuffle in while Scutus clicks his tongue behind them, enjoying their disappointment.
"You will rest here when you're not studying or training. The showers are across the left, next to the other sets of dormitories. The eating hall is directly below us and you will be fed three times a day. Caught stealing and you will be punished. Caught late and you will be punished. Guess what happens if you're caught lying?"
Everyone remains silent before the smaller teen with frizzy hair opens his mouth.
"We're punished?"
Scutus claps his hands together.
"You'll go far. The library and studying hall and across from here. Do not disturb the masters from anything, even if it's killing your favourite pet. And no, you get no pets. It's an analogy." He answers in a bored tone. "The training halls are above us on the third floor. You do not go above that. Those are master's quarters and other rooms you don't need to know about."
He looks around and sees someone smirking. He's a tall human with broad shoulders and brown hair down to his chin. He stands straight with his arms crossed, his brown eyes betraying the enjoyment he's clearly having. Scutus nods and suddenly his posture falters. He soon answers, trying to maintain his pride.
"I don't see how we need to worry about those rooms." He answers and Scutus raises a brow.
"Why is that?" He asks lowly as he begins to pace towards him, his eyes darkening as he prowls.
"I-I think training and discipline is what we are meant to focus on. After all, we are Sith. Power is what we are meant to maintain, for the sake of our emperor. Eavesdropping won't get us far this soon."
Scutus nods in thought as he stands behind the boy and he places his hand on his shoulder. The boy stiffens immediately.
"I agree. This young man clearly knows the principles of our order. You were well picked."
The boy's shoulders ease and his smirk returns to full gusto as he puffs out his decent chest. His chest rises only to stiffen as a pained and strained gasp leaves his tightening lips. His face is encased in a shade of red and the others stiffen, horror or excitement easing into their faces. Scutus leans into his shaking ear, his hand at his hip where his saber is ignited but not even unclipped.
"But you're not Sith. You haven't earnt that title." He whispers before kicking the boy to his knees.
He huffs loudly, bitting his lips before grunting and thrashing his arm to the side with a silent snarl, adding even more horror as the boy's head rolls in front of them. Some of them chuckle while the others bite back the urge to scream. Scutus turns it off and stares at the body, smoke thinly rising from the burns.
"Well, still an improvement from last year." He chuckles before staring at them. "Get rest and to know each other. Tomorrow we start basic training." He heads towards the door only to pause "Oh, I do hope none of you fear spiders. Giant spiders." Silence answers him, "Good. They're quite cuddly when they're dead. Most species are. Just try with him." He laughs loudly as the door slides shut.
Silence enters the room. The heat of the desert world is now foreign, replaced by cold that smothers the bones and stuffs the lungs to the point of pain. Some of them watch as the guards clean up the body before they exit, leaving the students alone. The sound of clapping and chuckling slides into the ears of them. A medium sized human female with cropped blonde hair and icy blue eyes slaps her hands together callously before placing them on her hips.
"Now that was a good introduction. Sure beats the science division on Dromund Kaas, that's for sure." She chuckles and several of them nod.
"Well I'd love to see how the Elite Guard entice their students." A Zabrak with a large crown of horns on his dusty and rough skin growls in agreement.
The girl scoffs and eyes him with clear disgust as if he were complete filth. She steps back, affronted, and taps her hips again.
"Oh please. We must clearly have a charity scheme running. That or we're truly losing to the Republic." She chuckles while leaning on a bunk frame as he smirks and turns to her.
"Meaning?" He asks in a shallow tone, his shoulders rising and revealing the slightly larger muscles that a human would hold.
His thin horns shine in the light, at least a dozen going around his head to form a crown of sorts. The Zabrak are a sturdy species, their tough skin and lean muscular figures evidence of the harsh climate of their homeworld.
"Meaning that true power comes from the better races. You're barely human looking. You're not even worthy to be between my thighs to service me, Zabrak."
The insult is more confusing more than anything. The Togruta remains impassive while the Twi'lek females exchange confused glances. Two human males exchange grins and one winks before his cheeks flush…and turn purple. His body turns stiff as he clutches his throat, clawing at it until he draws blood. His pained and desperate gasps almost become terrified sobs as the female clenches her fist.
"I noticed that." She spits in disgust before turning to the other nonhumans. "You should all be grateful you're here. Especially you, Twi'lek sluts. You're lucky you're not having your asses filled by the tail of some Hutt while you scream and cry." She hisses, seething before turning to the Togruta, "As for the beas-OOOF!" She hisses, clutching her nose as rivers of crimson flow from the cracks of her digits.
The Togruta smirks gently before returning to being almost robotic, massaging her left lekku as the two head tails vibrate with her joy. Her skin is mainly orange with dark blue square patterns where her face meets her head tails and horns, while the lekku is a mix of the two and her horns are pure white. Her young age is evident by the fact her smaller side and back tails only reach her armpits and her top horns are only just sprouting up and are barely thick at all. The Twi'leks have bigger lekku than hers, although that may be due to age or quicker development.
The group laughs, excited by the entertainment while one of them remains silent. A leaner, less imposing human with black hair towards the back eyes the scene carefully, not wanting to be dragged into it. His pale face tenses, not particularly liking the conflict as his brown eyes scan it carefully. He looks back down at his datapad and refocusses as the human girl spits red salvia at the Togruta's feet. The boy behind her takes deep breaths, thankful that he can finally breathe again as he tries to stand on wobbly legs, his neck bleeding concerningly fast.
"Brute." She growls, "I doubt you could even throw a pillow with any of the force at all." She yells but her counterpart remains silent for a moment.
"Shall I try?" She counters and the human's cheeks flush.
"Don't sleep tonight." She hisses as she sits on her bunks, her manic eyes almost vibrating at the Togruta.
Some of the others sigh with their shoulders dropping, the prospect of the show being over disheartening them. The boy at the back looks over the scene again before deciding to move his single bag to the set of bunks at the end, away from the others due to it having part of the wall separating it from the rest. Just as he throws his bag on the tiny mattress, it stops. In the air. It floats for a moment before it flies into his chest, knocking him back several steps. The Zabrak from earlier and some others snigger as the Togruta shoves him, placing her bag on the top mattress.
"Move from here." She warns as she ascends the step to reach the top.
He sighs and glares at her before moving to the bunk set across from her. He unzips his belongings and swiftly makes sure everything is stacked and in the exact order he left them in, making him sigh almost happily. The shorter guy looks at the two of them and whistles.
"Is there anyone here who isn't a prick?" He chuckles as he sets up in the middle.
"Missing your mother already?" The Zabrak mocks as he sets up next to him.
To his surprise, the boy winks at him.
"Not when I have you."
The Zabrak freezes for a moment and even considers moving away from the boy and his possible intentions before the boy laughs. The Zabrak realises the joke and chuckles before moving next to him.
"I'm flattered. I might feel bad when I slaughter you in your sleep." He counters and the darker boy shrugs, jabbing a finger at the brooding human as she uses a small mirror to examine her still bleeding nose.
"More worried about her cutting off our genitals." He leans in and whispers, "Imagine when she gets her saber."
The Zabrak shrugs and leans back.
"Humans fear a lack of sex too much."
"Virgin." He human boy smirks only to gasp as he drops to his knees, cupping his groin.
"You seem troubled. What were you saying?" The Zabrak smirks as he removes his foot.
The heat soon returned but the underlying chill never did quite leave. Even in the night, the pressure at the back of your head was still there. The bubble in the pit of the stomach was still shifting uneasily. The dark-haired boy could feel it even now, the endless feeling that any warmth will be sucked up. Any fire will be licked and caressed by ice until only a damp patch remained. The endless desire to either run or lash at it until your tongue is glossy with its blood. It's an unsettling feeling to say the least. Horror mixed with rage. A desperate rage you don't quite know why it exists and that in itself makes you want to claw and lash into your eyes to relieve the feeling.
He tosses to the side, clearly not going to get any sleep. His eyes linger on his bag beside him, contemplating read but hesitating as the light from the pad might wake up the others. He sighs softly to himself before noticing a shadow shift slightly on the floor. His eyes trace the source and linger on the back of the room where a figure creeps along towards the bunk. He rolls his eyes and goes to lean back when he looks at the shadow again. It's only average sized and clearly lacks horns or lekku.
He slowly shifts on his bed, silently sitting and leaning on the edge of his bed as he watches the being move to the bunk. He moves to his feet without a sound, watching as he moves across the room in concern. The shadow shifts and he notices its arm raises and he chews his lips before noticing something off about the hand. It's shaped wrongly, too rough and uneven to form a hand or fingers and he tries to see what it is closely. The shadow swoops down and before he can resist he gently raises his palm without extending his arm forward, trying to be as subtle as possible. The figure gasps loudly as its arm halts and shakes. It pushes down more and the pressure in his hand rises to the point where he locks his teeth down tightly. After a moment he violently jerks his hand to the side and the shadow flies to the side and a loud grunt is heard as it collides with the wall.
Several of the others rise from their slumber and look at the scene in confusion as the lights turn on. Scutus enters the room, a mix of frustrated and curious. He tilts his head to the side, eyeing the panting human girl on the floor as she clutches her swelling arm before turning to the Togruta and then to the human boy before laughing. A grey piece of sharp metal, probably part of a machine or tool, is scattered several feet from the girl. He turns back to the human female and tatters.
"In the room for a late-night romp? Talking from experience, don't pick the bigger ones. They struggle more." He turns towards the male who swiftly lowers his head. "Well done. I felt that from outside the hall. Luckily I was passing by. You used enough to break her arm. Oh, head towards the medical bay in the morning. Dying from a medical issue would be pathetic." He instructs to her spitefully and then looks back at him, "Day one and you've impressed me. Ever done that before?"
He shakes his head slowly and Scutus sighs. Being silent usually means a lack of a spine.
"Being humble I see. That'll kill you here. Go back to bed and no one try anything again." He turns back to the boy, "You've made me reconsider plans for lessons tomorrow." He says with a grin before the lights shut off and he exits.
The others, seeing no more entertainment or reason to tire themselves, head towards their bunks again. The girl gingerly heads towards her bunk but not before collecting her weapon again. The boy moves to head towards his own but turns, noticing the Togruta staring blatantly at him. They exchange looks for a moment before he turns and slips back into his bunk, closing his eyes as the hollowness returns.
"AAARRGGGHH!"
The sounds of the Zabrak screaming echo through the square, padded room as Scutus presses the electric prod further into his charring abdomen. He removes it after a moment and the student gasps loudly in agony while Scutus turns to a Twi'lek, the blue one.
"Susna. Your turn. Push me off or burn." He chuckles as he makes a dramatic motion with the prod as the Zabrak crawls away. "Oh, I forgot."
He lashes the prod across the Zabrak's crown of horns and he grunts as several of them sever, the tops burning and steaming. They lack nerve endings but the lack of horns amongst males can be seen as…less desirable for the females. He glares and froths as he rises chest to chest to the instructor. Scutus rolls his eyes and tatters before tapping his chest as though he was a child.
"That hatred. Use it next time. Hatred makes you strong. It feels good doesn't it? Almost arousing. Almost like a wine that makes you feel like you can snap the life out of everyone who crosses you. Learn to control it, and you will. Failure to do so and you'll burn till you die."
The Zabrak lowers his head and limps towards the rest of the students before Susna stares blankly at him, her deep blue face removed of any trace emotion. Without warning, Scutus swipes his arm forced and she hisses as she throws both hands forward. His movement is frozen but it makes her slide backwards several steps. He stops and nods in approval before stepping past her to motion to another. Then her cries echo through the hall and she drops to her knees. He removes the prod from her lower back and rolls his eyes.
"Never lower your guard. You act like children. Pathetic children."
The boy watches as she gingerly crawls to her knees and limps towards him along with the others. He turns back to the others and he feels his stomach turn unevenly, far worse than last night. The others look unnerved but not exactly frightened. Scutus inspects his prod before nodding to the group.
"Partner up and push against each other with everything you have. Now you will hopefully lock into place, so that you push with equal force and thus, no one falls. If your opponent pushes you down, I'll do more than prod. Once locked, I'll say when you can release. Go!" He barks and they move.
Soon everyone is paired, usually with the person next to them as barely anyone knows any names so far. The boy turns to his side and see the Togruta staring at him blankly and he nods softly.
"Not much of a talker." He states but she still says nothing and he sighs.
He moves about seven metres in front of her and they both raise their hands before pushing forward. He grits his teeth as the pressure travels from his hands and smashes into his arms, ripping and tearing them. His knees buckle and he slides back several inches before he pushes back more. She remains as still as a stone, not registering the increase of the force against her but it's enough to stop him from falling.
A few minutes turns into over two hours. Scutus remains completely silent as he watches his students. Most of them are breathing heavily and their clothes cling desperately to their bodies. The burning in their muscles is making them boarder on either vomiting, passing out or both. The boy pants loudly, the pressure in his chest becoming painful as he struggles to breathe. Even his partner is coated in a sheen of sweat. Her chocolate eyes are flickering side to side as she tries to find more strength to add but even she has her limits apparently.
A faint hum causes Scutus to reach into his pockets and pull out a communicator. He sighs and nods before the Chiss drops to his knees, spasming in exhaustion and his partner, a green female Twi'lek, stops as well.
"I'm required with the grandmaster. Shower and meet the archiver for your first history lesson." He heads towards the door but passes the Chiss first.
His places his middle and index fingers together as something purple trickles and zaps around them. He stares at them and hums before savagely thrusting them at the Chiss as a thin stream of lightning pours out of them. His screams and wails fill the room as his slightly unhuman skeleton shines in and out of view. Several of the students lean in, clearly fascinated by seeing the technique in real life. The unique curves of his skull are shown for brief moments before Scutus stops, leaving him unconscious and literally steaming.
"A nod doesn't mean stop!" He snaps before turning to the others. "You will await explicit orders. You are soldiers. You are not Sith yet. Remember that." He warns before heading out.
The students slowly but surely head out and silently cross the large staircase of the temple after collecting some of their cleaner clothes gingerly, their sore muscles making it hard to move. The majority of the temple spreads out from the central staircase, meaning that it is easy enough to get to places as long as you know the floor and basic direction of the place. The showers aren't particularly big. More for practical reasons than for luxury or relaxation. Several areas for lined up stalls with the middle being a place for washing hands or needing a reflection to shave and whatnot. Several of the students notice a lack of gender separation as the majority of them are being used already with a human girl and guy leaning on the centre in a conversation. The male's eyes widen and then smirks at their entrance.
"More fun, N'ra. There's more of you than last year." He laughs and his friend rolls her eyes.
"Any more than two would be more than last year. Wonder how many will last this week."
"Maybe seven." He replies and they share a low chuckle.
The injured Zabrak ignores them and pushes past them, heading to a free stall slowly as his darkened flesh prevents him from going fast. He pauses and then turns around, looking at Susna.
"Medic." He grunts before heading out with her at his heel.
"Must've met the prod." The older male laughs. "Got a few of us too. Did any of you sob?"
The girl from last night slides past him and smirks as he coughs and splatters from a moment. He hisses at her and snaps his head to the rest of them.
"Be careful. Kids like you have more to worry about than just Jedi or training." He growls before storming out.
His friend rolls her eyes and collects her things, silently following behind him. Everyone splits off and tries to find an empty stall, most of them apart from the others. The boy heads towards the end of the area, preferring privacy as usual only to find the stall door jammed. He frowns as he tries to rip it open only to feel it move of its own accord and slam into his cheek. He gasps and frowns while rubbing his cheek before seeing a larger figure slide past him.
"Stay." The Togruta orders before turning and places her clothes on a bench and places her back to him.
Soft orange skin is exposed as she pulls off her slender padded chest armour before his cheeks ripen and he closes it, shifting uncomfortably. It was only her back but still…Several minutes pass and he taps his feet impatiently before he feels the door open. Her skin is softened somewhat and he notices that the white of her horns is actually throbbing. He raises a brow and she huffs.
"The moisture is absorbed." She mutters before he feels himself being shoved into the stall.
Confused, he awkwardly places his items in perfect alignment on the bench, making sure nothing is out of place.
"Surely he was manipulating you." Scutus scoffs as he leans back in the red leather seat. "He wants the Sith presence lowered so the military has a stronger control on politics. If the rumours about the Emperor are true then-"
"Careful." Verrik warns as he leans on his desk, "You don't know who might be listening." He smirks while his underling rolls his eyes. "Have the older students placed with a master as soon as possible."
Scutus sighs and rubs his eyes in defeat.
"And the newer recruits who got here last night?"
"Do you trust the recruiters?"
"What?"
"Do you trust them?" He repeats evenly, interlacing his fingers.
"Yes. To an extent." He admits and Verrik grins.
"Good. Have them sent on the first trial." He says and Scutus laughs before frowning.
"You think…We have a numbers problem already. This? This will KILL them. I respect power but I believe power must be worked on to be improv-"
"So you lack belief in their raw power? Then why the hell are they here?!" He shouts as he slams his fists into the table, "We are not care givers! We teach the strong! They are worthy enough to survive. ONLY THEM. Our creed is absolute. It must be if we are to survive. If they cannot survive this trial, they have no right to be Sith."
Scutus pauses and falls into line, nodding slowly. Both of them were experienced military men although only one took their position at the temple by choice. They both knew who had the power, regardless of even opening their military records. It didn't help that Scutus was there during a skirmish of Verrik's a decade ago. Ever since then he'd be wary of the man, especially after watching the way he dealt with those who couldn't follow orders.
Verrik gestures to the door and Scutus hurries out, immediately heading towards the archives.
"…so the graves are homes of our forbearers and those that think the dead cannot be felt have a habit of joining them." The stern Twi'lek finishes, returning the holocron listing the graves to its slot.
Most of the humans were surprised at the species but they knew better than to keep their mouths open. Even the girl from the night before knows how to be silent occasionally. The boy manages to absorb most of the information, aided by the fact the archiver would literally strike anyone whose eyes would wander. The others around him are either studious as well or have swollen cheeks. The Togruta holds a stony expression as usual. To his surprise, she waited outside for him only to leave silently once he exited the stall. She hasn't said anything since. The Zabrak and Susna had returned with bacta patches but missed the chance to shower, something which clearly irritated them both. The Chiss still hasn't been seen yet.
"Now, the history of this temple is rather-"
"Unneeded."
Scutus heads through them and whispers into his colleague's ear. The Twi'lek murmurs in confusion but moves anyway, clearly content to observe his dark secrets alone once more. Scutus' expression is far more dire though. It's a cross between fear and rage, something the boy was becoming accustomed to here already.
"We believe in a practical approach. Fire is needed to make you stronger. It's what separates us from those apathetic studiers on Dantooine. We have decided to move up the first trial by several months…to your second day." The last part trails off, as if even he can't understand what he's saying.
Several of the students fidget in excitement.
"You will pair off. In fact, with the person you were practicing against. And you," he points to the green Twi'lek who was with the Chiss, "Go with them." He points to the boy and inwardly he contemplates death.
Uneven number. He shifts uncomfortably as he taps his arms.
"You will each enter a tomb and retrieve an object from the inside. I'm not going to tell you what it is because if you can't work out that it's what you need to collect, you're an idiot not worth the air I am forced to supply you with. You will leave tomorrow at eight and if you come back without it, I'll kill you. If you try to escape the planet, feel free. I don't care. Just don't waste my time. Die in a cave, actually. Less insurance issues with the accountants. Dismissed." He grunts and walks off, clearly not in a good mood.
Mutters and grunts echo in the archive and the boy rubs his eyes. The feeling of being pushed into a wall against your own will suddenly returns and he chews his lips as he thinks his new situation over.
"I would imagine you would relish at this chance." The Togruta says softly at his side and he resists the urge to scoff.
"Not all of us wanted to relish this." He freezes and eyes her, "I trust you not to repeat that?"
She nods stiffly and he sighs inwardly before turning to face her.
"Marcos." He states evenly and she looks confused before straightening a bit.
"Lyris." She replies and he nods evenly.
"Nimus."
They both turn to the emerald Twi'lek and he bites back a groan. Why am I even hear? What hell did I miss out on for this?