AN: I might write more pieces of this, but they'll probably be more like disjoint cutscenes. I'm leaving it incomplete for now, but who knows. I should be studying.

Honestly, this is 70% because I was slightly annoyed that we had to actually talk to Yuthura before reciting the Sith Code, because I can recite both Jedi and Sith codes from memory… just let me tell Uthar now… The other 30% is because I need this undercover boss skit a la Kylo. Except the opposite, because instead of everyone knowing, no one believes her.

As will shortly become clear, I didn't exactly take care with POV or, uh, what I'm calling the player character. So it sort of swings wildly between the PC and Uthar for POV. And hey, some confusion over what to call the PC is appropriate at this point in the game, I think.

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR KOTOR since this takes place after Leviathan!

"Greetings, prospective students. It appears we have a late entry. Who do you bring before me, Yuthura? A young human, bristling with the Force?" Uthar asked.

"A human that has had some training, it seems, Master Uthar," Yuthura said. "Very promising, although with an odd sense of humor." She gave a strict glance at the woman, as if daring her to speak.

"That I'll judge for myself," Uthar said. "Tell me human, what do you know of the ways of the Sith? What preconceptions has your mind been polluted with?"

"I know quite a bit, in fact," she said breezily. "At one point, I knew more than you. I just seem to have… forgotten." Her mouth quirked upward, as if she found something amusing.

Uthar did not find it amusing–he wondered if this was the ill-guided 'humor' Yuthura spoke of. "Indeed? Then perhaps you would care to demonstrate for us the powers of a Sith Master?"

Revan shrugged. It took all her self-control not to fling this arrogant fool against the wall, or to pull out the saber they had somehow let her enter with. That alone was proof of how far Malak had let the Sith slide. No matter; she would have this place cleaned up before she was done.

"…No?" Uthar taunted. "Then perhaps you shall keep your foolishness to yourself and actually learn something."

Revan took a meditative breath. This was not the place to let her anger get the best of her. Not yet, not when there were so many better uses for it.

"The Jedi equate the light with goodness and strength, and the dark with weakness and evil. That is their tradition, and it is truly no surprise that they cling to it for comfort. We, however, do not treat the Force as a burden. We treat it as a gift, a thing to be celebrated. We use it to acquire power over others, and why should we not? Because the Jedi say we should not?" Uthar scoffed. "We are as the Force is meant to be. The Jedi would hide that from you, they would tell you the dark side is too quick, to easy… all so that they need never challenge the passions within them. Joining with us means realizing your true potential. It means not stifling yourself solely for the sake of hide-bound shamans and their antiquated notions of order. Be what you were meant to be."

Uthar turned to the first recruit. "What say you, Lashowe? Are you ready to learn the secrets of the dark side? Dare you?"

"I dare, Master Uthar! I am ready." It was the one Revan had encountered at the spaceport. She had potential, Revan could feel it, but Revan owed her a lesson. Uthar saw the same potential.

"Brash and fiery, as expected. Turn that passion to your advantage, child. What of you, Mekel? Are you ready?"

"I am, Master. More than ready." He took a deep, subservient bow. Suck-up, Revan thought. Uthar's thoughts were much the same, but it was no disadvantage.

"I sense much anger within you, young one," Uthar said. "That is good. That will provide you power. And Shardan, what of you?"

"I am always ready." Now here was an interesting one. Revan sensed he was more cunning than the other two; his lust for power had not impeded his intellect. She would have to watch for him. Uthar sensed none of this, noticing only that the flame of darkness did not burn as brightly in him.

"I see. You had best gather your wits for the trial ahead, boy, or you will not last," he warned. Now, he turned finally to Revan. "And you, young human. What are you called?"

Once again, the woman seemed to be on the verge of laughter. "Amiya," she said simply.

"Amiya," Uthar repeated. "Does this interest you? Are you ready to learn more of what I speak?"

"Oh, indeed," she said. There was a strange jest to her tone, but Uthar did not dismiss her so quickly. There was power in this girl, lurking within her. And there was something… not quite right about her. It could be an advantage, or a hindrance, depending on how things played out.

"And so shall it be," he replied. "Now then. All of you five recruits have shown a degree of facility with the Force. You all have the potential to become true Sith. Only one of you, however, will succeed. The one who succeeds will be admitted to the academy as a full Sith. All others must wait until next year and try again. If you survive." Uthar had a feeling that there would be no survivors from this year's recruits. In fact, he had the strangest premonition that none of them would make it to the academy. "My pupil, Yuthura, shall be your teacher and master while you attempt to prove yourselves. Heed her words." He met the eyes of the woman, Amiya, again. She made no response.

"As Master Uthar said, none of you are true Sith yet," said Yuthura.

Once again, Revan stifled her laugh, perhaps letting a small smirk show. It certainly seemed like none of them were true Sith–Revan had yet to find another true Sith on this planet. Perhaps even she herself no longer fit the description, but she was a hell of a lot closer than either of these two sniveling 'masters.'

Yuthura continued. "For that to occur, one of you must do enough of worth, gain enough prestige, to be selected. What is an act of worth?" she asked rhetorically. "You must learn that for yourselves. Remember that you are competitors here. Fight for your destiny, or go home."

"If you wish to gain a lead over your competitors, the first of you to learn the Code of the Sith and tell me of it will be rewarded," Uthar said.

There was laughter from one of the potentials. Amiya yet again. If rumour was to be heeded, she was newly arrived on the world, and a former Jedi, although she did not act much like one. Perhaps she had simply failed to grasp how one was to act on Korriban, particularly to their betters. Uthar gave her a stern look.

"I fail to see what is amusing about this," he said.

"Peace is a lie," she responded, a wicked smile crossing her face. "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 will free me."

Uthar frowned. "It is one thing to recite the words blindly," he said, although there was… power behind her words. Revan's smile grew–she knew he was now bluffing. "It is another to truly understand them. Tell me then, true or false: It is our passion that fuels the Force."

"True."

"Good," Uthar said. Both of them knew he was lying. "Victory by any means is desirable."

The woman stared at him, as if trying to read him. "False," she said, her face oddly neutral.

"Correct," Uthar said. The woman gave him the briefest slant of a nod, as if she was judging him. Impudence!

Revan smiled. She liked riling these pathetic excuses for Sith, but at least Malak hadn't made them quite as stupid as she feared. In some ways, that was a pity.

Uthar's mouth twitched. "There is nothing worse than love."

The woman fell silent. For the first time, the laughter and condensation left her eyes. She looked quizzical, as if she struggled to remember something on the tip of her tongue.

Something was fighting to surface in Revan's mind. She closed her eyes, trying to trace the source of the pressure. It felt as if it pressed her chest, her ears, her throat. She heard a voice she recognized, but couldn't quite place, telling her to leave. It's a trap! There was a cry, as if a child's. Another voice, although she couldn't make out the words… the voice was… Carth's? He said her name: Revan. Her mouth tasted of tears. In the back of her mind, something burned. She felt the vibration of a phantom lightsaber in front of her nose.

"True or false?" Uthar repeated.

"…False," she said, opening her eyes. There was uncertainty in her voice, but not with the answer. Whatever was going on in her head–whatever the odd swirl of the Force around her was, rising like a twister–caused the confusion.

"Correct," Uthar said. Perhaps there was something to this recruit after all. He turned to the other recruits. "It seems you are at a disadvantage already. You must make haste if you are to have any chance."

Lashowe in particular was fuming. "And what do you suggest, Master?" she asked.

"The rest is for you to discover," Uthar replied. "Ask Yuthura if you need more guidance. Welcome to the dark side, my children. Your one chance at true greatness lies here."

Revan sighed. She had almost thought the Jedi would be more worthy than these Sith. Now, the reminder of what they had done to her, what they had taken away was once again a searing brand in her mind. Damn them. What more had been torn from her?

But… Revan would never have met Carth, not on the same side of a battlefield. Amiya had that chance. Carth even seemed… it might be too much to hope… one day, he might say her Sith name with the tenderness that he spoke her Jedi one. Perhaps that would be enough to stay her revenge, for now.

Her revenge on the Jedi, that is. Malak's Sith would face her wrath regardless.