Chapter Two: Lesson Learned
Shen had believed that Sergeant Drake's lessons were a new definition of suffering, but Syan's torture droid had cured her of that misconception. Time had lost all meaning in the sea of pain; everything had lost meaning except trying to breathe in the crushing gravity and burning air, enduring an endless stream of shocks. At some point, hours after she had stopped screaming because her voice was gone, she had fallen into blackness, expecting oblivion.
Instead she woke up with an aching body and raw, cracked skin, lying on the hard metal floor of a small, bare detention cell. Ceiling, walls and floor were a uniform black metal, relieved only by a grated light in the ceiling and a simple refresher in one corner. When Shen made herself move, abused skin and muscle protested. The refresher dispensed clean water, allowing her to slake her thirst. With nothing else to do she waited, trying to ignore the lingering pain of the burns covering her body.
Sometime later, the cell door hissed open. Two more of the ubiquitous armored troopers were outside. "Stay where you are, prisoner," one commanded, hand on his stun baton, as the other stepped into the cell to place a tray of food on the floor. Then he fished something out of a pouch on his belt and set it down beside the tray. "Lord Syan sent this for you, said it's your head if it's damaged." Then they left. The door hissed shut, and Shen was alone again.
When her meal was finished, Shen picked up the object the trooper had left behind, a fist-sized pyramid of metal and plasteel etched with intricate runes. The object glowed with a reddish inner light, and when Shen picked it up, the top began to glow brighter still. A diminutive hologram of a red-skinned Sith with a lined face and long facial tendrils appeared, somehow managing to look down on Shen with distain despite being less than two hand spans in height. The holographic Sith identified himself as Darth Lor and the device she held as a Sith holocron built for basic instruction of acolytes. Shen quickly discovered that the little apparition was far more sophisticated than the teaching holos she was accustomed to, and bore more resemblance to a droid brain programmed with the complete consciousness of an individual.
The avatar of Darth Lor began her instruction by teaching her about Sith history, focusing on the lives and victories of notable Sith. She learned about Naga Sadow and Ludo Kresh, and the Great Hyperspace War. She learned about how Exar Kun struck down his former Jedi Master on the floor of the Senate, and how Ulic Qel-Droma had risen to power before straying from the way of the Sith and being stripped of the Force as punishment. This and far more the holocron taught Shen, and she began to understand. Individual Sith were often very different from each other, but it didn't take Shen long to realize that there was a common theme that united these famous and respected Sith: they were all sociopaths.
Shen had known all her life, as anyone living in the Sith Empire did, that the Sith were erratic, unpredictable and dangerous, and that a wise person avoided having anything to do with them as much as possible. What the holocron taught her along with the history of the Sith was that they did have a kind of consistency to their philosophy: a good Sith's first victims were their own conscience and compassion. They seemed to value personal freedom for the sake of itself, despised restraint in any form – even if it was common decency or kindness – and respected strength free of any sort of limitation. The Sith Masters whose lives Shen learned about were proud of betraying old friends and family to obtain favor or some bit of new power or knowledge. They glorified in horrifying acts of butchery, wiping out an entire city for being the home of one traitor, razing worlds in the act of warfare and drawing strength in the Force from the anguish of entire peoples. These Sith had reveled in striking down their mentors once they had surpassed them in power. "Mercy is a weakness," the hologram of Darth Lor preached. "'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.' That is the Sith Code, which you must live by."
For days the holocron taught, lectured and questioned Shen. When she was tired, she slept. Food was brought for her regularly. Denied any other contact, Shen found looking forward to the holocron springing to life, if only to have someone to talk to, in spite of how horrifying the things it told her were. Shen knew that she was hearing the true history of the Empire, far different from what she had learned in her previous life, and it repulsed her. So much death and strife, and for what? The pretty struggles of a few mad Force-users?
In a moment of reflection, days later, when the holocron had fallen silent so she could digest what she had been taught, Shen fully understood the truth of her situation, and disgust overwhelmed her. No wonder Lord Syan was disappointed in her! He believed in this insanity, reveled in it! Worse, Shen understood with cold clarity that unless she could convince Lord Syan that she had embraced these beliefs, he truly would kill her, and not feel a moment's remorse or pity. Mercy was an alien concept to him. Shen understood with cold clarity that she only mattered to him as a useful tool; by performing well at the Academy on Korriban, she would elevate the stature of the world that he would rule when his master, Darth Denebric passed away or died at his hand. If he didn't believe she could excel at the Academy, he would murder her and wait for the next Force sensitive to emerge from Tyrin III.
Shen's idle thoughts drifted, as they often did, to a happier time, when she had a family and a fulfilling career, and things made sense. She thought of the children she had taught, bright and happy and full of potential, but a disturbing thought intruded on her reminiscence. The madness wouldn't stop if she died. Syan would do all this again in a month or a year or a decade to the next potential candidate he got his tattooed hands on.
There would be another poor soul being beaten unconscious by a brutal Imperial combat instructor. What if it was Miya, a bubbly, perpetually smiling girl with shiny yellow hair and bright blue eyes, the one who wanted to be a painter when she grew up, and brought "Mrs. Shen" fresh fruit from her family's farm? What horror would Pohl face, a clever Rodian boy who was always so brave and upbeat, even when he was picked on so often for being one of the few non-human students his age?
Shen thought of her niece and nephew, only toddlers and already destined to grow up without a father, though thankfully her sister-in-law hadn't been at the party when the freighter fell. If Shen was Force-sensitive, then what if one of them had the ability as well? Imagining her niece and nephew one day being tortured to the edge of sanity just for hesitating to fight made Shen shudder in horror. No, she had to convince Lord Syan that she believed every horrible bit of the Sith teachings. Picking up the holocron, she stared into its depths, accepting that she would have to internalize Darth Lor's teachings.
As though sensing a change in Shen, a new determination, the history lessons ended, and more practical lessons became available to her. Darth Lor began instructing Shen in the basics of Sith Force techniques. Fear had been a part of her life since the accident, but focusing her anger was a challenge at first, until she realized that neither Lor nor the Force cared where that anger came from. Shen had only to dwell on Lord Syan and the senseless cruelty of the Sith, and she was amazed by the amount of hatred that bubbled up from the well of fear that had churned inside her for months. Emotionally reinforced, Shen found it easier with each passing day to feel the Force, not in random flashes of intuition, but as a constant presence, her anger making it an ever-present warmth just over her shoulder, always there, waiting. Then the holocron began teaching her ways to use it. Her discarded meal tray moved around the room, at first in fits and starts, then flying through the air in graceful arcs. The holocron taught Shen how to meditate, focusing her rage and hate and drawing the dark side into herself. She learned how to use the Force to accelerate the healing of injuries, and her burns quickly faded to scars. She learned how to subsist on a few hours of sleep a night, falling into a Force trance, rising refreshed to learn more. She began filling the idle hours with exercise and calisthenics to strengthen her body, and the holocron even taught her the basics of hand to hand combat favored by the Sith.
Less than two months after her incarceration began came the day when the holocron came to life, and Darth Lor regarded her steadily. "You have learned what you need to know, acolyte. Return to your master." Then the holocron went silent, and wouldn't respond to her attempts to reactivate it. The next time the guards came to her cell, Shen told them that she was ready to see Lord Syan, but they just laughed at her and left. On a subsequent visit, one of them icily explained to her that she was going to stay right where she was until orders were sent down that said otherwise.
At first Shen was confused, but when she thought about it as a Sith should, she understood. Lord Syan wasn't going to come and get her. She had to prove she was ready to continue the training by going to him. With that understanding, she began planning. Besides her meals, the only time her cell door opened was when a medic from the citadel clinic came down to check on her implants and cybernetics. The next time that happened, Shen was ready. The brutal torture she had endured and her passivity during captivity had paid an unexpected dividend, in that the guards believed her to be broken and harmless. To them, she was just another unfortunate prisoner languishing in an Imperial dungeon. As a result, while they still sent two guards to being her food, only one of them accompanied the medic for her checkups.
When the medic arrived, on this visit a cheerful brunette with bright green eyes named Felle, Shen assumed her earlier air of listlessness, submitting quietly to the scans and checks. This time, though, Shen slipped her hand into the medic's bag when the guard wasn't looking, and found what she needed, a hypo of powerful anesthetic. Palming it, she waited until the checkup was done before making her move. As Felle busied herself with packing up her tools, Shen opened her hand and seized the hypo with her telekinesis, propelling it as hard as she could at the flexible join between the trooper's helmet and breastplate. Her aim was true, and the hypo's needle pierced through to his neck, discharging its contents into his carotid artery. The man barely had time to start in surprise before he collapsed. Felle turned as the guard clattered to the durasteel floor, and Shen rose to her feet, wrapping her prosthetic left arm around the smaller woman's throat, applying pressure to her windpipe to cut off her voice. "Struggle or scream and I will break your neck, Felle," Shen whispered in the medic's ear before relaxing her grip slightly so the other woman could breathe.
"What are you doing, Shen?" Felle asked in alarm, squirming in Shen's grasp.
"Leaving," Shen replied. Reaching out with her free hand, Shen got a Force grip on the unconscious guard's blaster and yanked it out of its holster, bringing it to her hand and pressing the barrel to Felle's temple
Felle gasped, and her sudden terror was almost palpable to Shen. It was… intoxicating to feel that, and know that she had caused it. "You can use the Force?"
"I'm going to be Sith, Felle. You know what that means? I would shoot you and enjoy it, so don't give me a reason to." For a moment Shen couldn't believe she'd said that, and was sure Felle would know it was a lie, would sense Shen's nervousness, but instead more fear poured out of the medic and she nodded. "Now, I have an appointment with Lord Syan and I don't want to keep him waiting. So drag that guard in here and help me get his armor off." Felle did as instructed. Shen had to fight not to look at the obviously terrified medic in disbelief. Was controlling someone else really this easy? There was something alluring about inspiring that kind of fear.
Once the guard's armor was off, Shen donned it herself. It was uncomfortably snug across her chest, but otherwise fit well enough to pass a casual inspection. When she lowered the helmet onto her head and looked out at the world through the red-tinged HUD, Shen felt different, more powerful. Shen slipped the holocron into a pouch on her belt and then turned her gaze on Felle, crouched uncertainly by the fallen trooper. "Inject yourself with one of those sedative hypos." When Felle opened her mouth to object, Shen pointed the blaster at her. "Now." Swallowing hard, Felle reached into her bag, took out one of the sedatives, and fired it into her own arm.
Felle's fear just felt so good that Shen's next words were out of her mouth before she could consider them. "I'm going to shoot you when you pass out." Felle's eyes went wide with alarm, and new waves of panic radiated from her. Shen watched her try to scream, to fight off the effects of the drugs, before she ultimately succumbed and collapsed. Holstering the blaster, Shen reflected for a moment. Why had she said that? It was cruel to have instilled more fear in Felle just to enjoy the sensation of it. It was disturbingly like something Syan would do.
Then Shen remembered where she was, and shook off the introspection. She still had to get out of the detention level. She used the guard's keycard to open the cell and left it for the first time in months. A moment's fiddling with the armor's internal mechanisms produced a map of the detention level. Shen headed for the exit, trying to imitate the measured pace of an Imperial soldier. Twice she passed other uniformed guards, and her heart raced, but none of them spared her as much as a glance. By the time she reached the guard station at the turbolift, she was cautiously optimistic. The two troopers stationed behind the consoles there had their helmets off, and they looked up when she approached. "Where's the medic?" The desk sergeant asked.
Shen pitched her voice as deep and close to the guard's as she could. "Cyborg needed more work."
The sergeant frowned. "You're not supposed to leave them alone, Holtz. You know that."
Heart racing, Shen kept up her casual pace, drawing closer to the pair. "The cyborg's broken. She won't cause trouble."
The soldiers exchanged a glance. "It's against protocol… but you're probably right. You left her a comlink to signal that she's done?" Shen nodded and then stepped into the turbolift. The back of her neck itched, expecting a shout or a blaster bolt, but nothing happened. The door hissed closed. Exhaling a sigh of relief, Shen keyed the turbolift to the top level of the citadel. Weight pressed down on her as the car shot upward out of the bowels of the earth toward the heights. A minute later the turbolift doors opened. Shen stepped out into an airy hallway with wide windows, seeing sunlight for the first time in weeks. Following another route called up on the HUD, Shen headed for Lord Syan's quarters.
The halls of the upper level were mostly empty, and Shen made it all the way to Lord Syan's door before she encountered more guards. Their armor was different than hers, more ornate, and they held force pikes in their hands, basters holstered at their size. She could sense their disdain as she approached. "I think you're lost, prison guard," one of them said, his voice dripping with superiority.
Anger ran through Shen. How dare this ignorant Imperial lackey talk down to her? Shen felt a premonition in the Force, and knew in an instant that she would not be able to talk her way past this obstacle. She hesitated for a moment, but she'd known since she resolved to complete the Sith training that she was going to have to fight. So she drew her blaster, flicked the setting to "Stun", shoved it under the chin of the soldier who had spoken to her and pulled the trigger. Shen saw the blue flash behind his helmet's eye plates as the blaster's neuron-disrupting pulse wreaked havoc on his central nervous system. Even as he started to fall, the Force shrieked a warning at her. Grabbing the dead guard's force pike as he collapsed, Shen danced back a moment before the surviving soldier's humming blade sliced through where her head would have been. Thumbing the weapon to life, Shen squared off against the guard as he pushed a button on his wrist plate and alarms began shrieking through the citadel.
"You're dead," the soldier grated as they squared off.
"Not today," Shen replied, parrying his first hit and scoring his armor with an easy riposte. She knew she needed to kill this man quickly before more guards showed up. He was skilled with the force pike, but not as good as Sergeant Drake. More important, Shen had the Force as an ally now, and it answered her urgency and anger, flooding her body with power. Shen pushed that power into speed, and a flurry of blows later she knocked his helmet off with a rising blow to his chin and then slammed the butt of the pike into the side of his head. His eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed without a sound.
Shen felt a sense of mild disbelief as she took in the pair of trained soldiers she had defeated in mere moments, and she wasted a moment in exhilaration at the thrill of victory, before shouts and footsteps from down the hall spurred her to action. Slamming her palm into the door control made it hiss open, and she ducked inside, sealing it behind her and firing her blaster into the controls, hoping that would keep it sealed against the reinforcements. She could hear shouts and hammering against the door as she ducked into the main foyer of Syan's apartments. Her worries that Syan might not be there faded when she sensed a well of darkness in the Force a moment before Syan stepped through a doorway on the other side of the main room, ebony armor gleaming in the sunlight, an unlit lightsaber in his hand. "Are you here to kill me, interloper?"
Shen was surprised that she could sense a sardonic amusement behind Syan's serious mien. He sensed who she was! He was playing a game. Shen shook her head, wrenching her helmet off. Dropping to one knee, she replied, "No, my Lord. I'm here to learn."
Syan was silent for a moment, and Shen could hear the hiss of burning metal as the reinforcements outside started cutting through the door. After a few more moments passed, Shen heard Syan key his comlink on. "Stand down the alarm, captain." Pause. "I'm aware of the intruder. The matter is handled. Stand down." Then he keyed the comlink off and stepped forward to stand before Shen as the alarms faded. She managed not to flinch when she heard the snap-hiss of his lightsaber igniting, forcing herself to stay still even when he brought its blade centimeters from her cheek. "Perhaps we will make a Sith of you after all."