A/N

Disclaimer: Neither Star Wars or The Old Republic setting is owned by me. All rights go to Disney, Bioware and EA. I only claim ownership of my original characters

CHAPTER 1
A NEW DESTINY

"The Chiss need a presence among the Sith," Aristocra Mragh'awri'Nuruodo said, his expression neutral. "You are aware of the Alliance, of course?" He continued, referring to the alliance between the Sith Empire and the Chiss Ascendancy.

"Of course, who isn't?" Rréoulath replied, despite the question having been mostly rhetorical. His voice was smooth and pleasant, with the soothing quality so many doctors possessed. He was still young, only recently graduated from the medical branch at the Csaplan University, but where other students had received praise for their success, Rréoulath's name was spoken with fear and suspicion.

It had not always been that way.

Until very recently he had been the rising star of House Athaven, known for his intellectual prowess, pragmatism and excellent manners; all qualities the Chiss valued highly. He was a talented medical student and when the exams came around, there was no doubt he would pass; the only question was if he would do so with honors. When the results had come in, the whispers had exploded. At first the rumors had merely claimed an unprecedented success, but all too soon the whispers turned vicious. 'Impossible' was the word that was used, and it conveyed volumes of doubt and disapproval. Supported by his family, friends and even some of his professors, Rréoulath had dismissed the insinuation of foul play as childish attempts to undermine his reputation by envious rivals, but regardless of his denials the rumors had persisted.

Slowly, the tide had turned. Admiration had turned to suspicion and his accomplishments at University had come under scrutiny. His papers were sent to a Review Committee, and he was called in to defend his answers before a judiciary tribunal.

Only five minutes into the session, one of the judges had pushed the datapad containing Rréoulaths results away and looked upon the young Chiss with a raised brow. "This seems nothing more than a sequence of very fortunate guesswork, Rhuadrr'Eoull'Athaven," he had drawled, tapping a fingertip against the datapad.

"Fortunate for the patient, perhaps. The pallor of the skin, and the discoloring of the eyes were further indications the original diagnosis was wrong," Rréoulath replied. "I am not to blame if others fail to see the obvious."

"The discoloration was very slight," the second judge remarked. "How did you spot it?"

"I don't know. I just did, it was like an instinct, a feeling that I couldn't ignore." He sensed the suspicion and covert hostility that lurked behind their questions and when a summons for a medical exam followed after the hearing, he had not been surprised. As the tests had progressed, his doctors had seemed troubled, and for the first time since the investigation had started, he felt doubt. His confidence wavered and his family's attempts to reassure him fell on deaf ears.

He had tried to prepare himself for bad news, but when the results came in, it was all he could do to leave with his head held high until he had reached the privacy of his bedroom. He had thrown himself onto his bed, burying his head between his arms, desperately trying to hold himself together. He had managed, his hands clawed into his pillow, until his mother came and pulled him in her arms. "Force sensitive or not, you're still my son," she had whispered, and he had lost it, crying and shouting while she held him and stroked his hair until he finally calmed.

They all soon noticed the changes Rréoulath's affliction brought into their life.

When people spoke of him, they no longer addressed his accomplishments but whispered of the tragedy that had befallen the heir of House Athaven. Rhuadrr'Eoull'Athaven was one of those rare cases, a force-sensitive born to a family of non-force users, and it had meant the ruin of his name.

His friends had stopped returning his calls and even Mwarin, with whom he had shared a first kiss at his graduation party, no longer called. His best friend, Thwrovh, had made excuses, claiming to be busy in that shy and awkward manner that always made Rréoulath's heart ache.

Inevitably, word of the scandal had reached the Aristocra and a meeting had been arranged. "I am aware that the discovery of your condition may have come as a shock," Ghawrin said, crimson eyes studying the younger Chiss' face. "Your life may seem ruined, your ambitions thwarted and your situation desperate." Rréoulath acknowledged his words with a slight nod and Ghawrin continued, satisfied with the young man's controlled response. "No one regrets more than I that we must lose a skilled physician, but we must not close our eyes to the opportunity you represent."

"An opportunity?" Rréoulath echoed sharply.

"Indeed," Ghawrin replied. "Your parents have reassured me that your devotion to the Ascendancy is beyond reproach, your self-control exemplary and your intelligence satisfactory."

Rréoulath scoffed. "Only satisfactory?"

Ghawrin chuckled at the young man's indignation. "Unlike the Exam Committee I do not believe your condition the sole explanation for your success, but without further study we will never know how many of your answers were a result of your skill and how much was due to your affliction."

"Force sensitivity." Rréoulath corrected between clenched teeth, feeling his self-control fray.

"Force sensitivity," Ghawrin agreed with a faint nod. "In the aforementioned alliance with the Sith Empire, the Ascendancy has agreed that all force-sensitive younglings shall be sent to a Sith Academy to be trained in the ways of the force. Unlike them, your reasoning is not clouded by whims and emotions, nor a lust for more power." he said. "You possess the self-control required to see you through their training with unwavering loyalty. Your duty is clear, Rréoulath, you must go to Korriban, and inform us of their training methods." Ghawrin instructed. "Needless to say, this must remain between us. Do not share your information with anyone but myself."

Rréoulath swallowed hard, struggling to keep his voice under control. "This means exile?" From the corner of his eye, he saw his father lean towards him, raising his hand in a placating gesture. 'He knew'! The realization threw him off balance and a cold, tight sneer etched upon the young Chiss' lips. 'He knew and didn't tell me,' he thought, seething inwardly. 'How much more does he know that he hasn't told? Did they decide my fate already?'

Ghawrin had caught his gaze, crimson eyes locked on crimson eyes, and Rréoulath swallowed down his anger. "Not forever," Ghawrin replied, not without sympathy. "We intend no punishment, but it would be illogical to let slip an opportunity to study the Sith. We must learn more of their methods and mindset. For you, this means an opportunity to serve the Ascendancy far beyond her borders, to benefit her as a whole."

It was the best he could hope for, he realized. The option to return had been kept open, and he suspected his family's ties to House Nuruodo had played no small part in swaying the decision in his favor. If his lineage had been any less prestigious… No, he refused to think of what the consequences might have been. His family was what it was, and there was no profit in creating further scenarios of doom in his head.

"I would be honored, Sir. And I am grateful for the opportunity," he replied, shouldering a new destiny.

"Splendid, I'll make the arrangements with the Sith's ambassador." Ghawrin said, even as Rréoulath's father stood and placed a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Thank you, Aristocra," he said. "And you as well, my son."

Rréoulath made no reply and remained silent until Ghawrin had made his farewells, extending only a curt nod when the Aristocra left. On any other day, his lack of decorum would have earned him a solemn, disapproving look from his father, but not this time. His mother refused to meet his gaze, her expression reflecting nothing but the grave courtesy as she would have displayed during a diplomatic reception. That was fine, she was not the one who had betrayed him.

"You knew! Do not deny it," he warned, confronting his father the instant Ghawrin was out the door. "I would like an explanation, father."

His father moved to stand behind his mother, his hands upon her shoulders, much like they had rested upon Rréoulath's shoulders only moments ago. "Aristocra Ghawrin has explained," he said tiredly. "We cannot leave this tactical advantage, even if you are our son. Your duty to the Ascendancy, your House, and family is clear."

"And to your brother," his mother reminded him gently. "We do not hold this against you, but your situation reflects upon Rraegath as well. His reputation will suffer because of your illness. As long as you are here, people will not forget, and your chances will not be the only ones lost."

"We cannot teach you what you must learn to control this affliction," his father put in. "Only the Sith hold that knowledge."

"You could have told me, I deserved to know; it is after all my life you're determining." Rréoulath complained, cringing inwardly as he realized how petulant it had sounded.

"I could have," his father acknowledged. "But Aristocra Ghawrin had to meet you and see your reaction. We had our hopes, but the decision was not yet made. It was your self-control that convinced him you are the right choice." He moved to sit down beside his son. "Do not underestimate the Sith," he warned. "They may not seem more than bloodthirsty brutes at first glance, but this is only true for those in the lower ranks. Those who have ascended, who have become proper Sith Lords, have done so for a reason."

"I will be careful," Rréoulath nodded reluctantly. "It isn't what I wanted, but I cannot deny that knowing how the Sith gain their power will be useful knowledge. I will do my best."

He raised his gaze to his father and smiled, a sudden feeling of warmth growing inside at the fierce pride he saw in his father's eyes.