Chapter 2
There is Only Passion
They arrived at Dreshdae, the only colony on that barren rock, at the small hours of the evening. Like at Yavin, the port authority recognized the Ebon Hawk, and assumed they were on Exchange business. They were even directed to a discreet landing pad on the colony's edge and filed some convincing fakes for docking papers. Apparently, Davik was a stickler for making sure any paper trails hit a dead end.
The colony looked like it was thrown together in a hurry. Roads were mostly dirt paths, packed hard by foot traffic. The "better" parts of town had some patches of stresscrete paving. Most of the buildings were ramshackle slums, constructed from prefab kits or converted from other buildings. Hovering above all of them in the distance was a craggy mountain. Halfway up the side were the huge iron gates and imposing stone walls of the Academy.
There was an undercurrent of nervous activity as Carth and Kairi walked out onto its dirt and stone streets, the droids at their heels. They passed a three-story brick brothel where a myriad of women and men of several species were standing on the balconies, doing their best to advertise their "assets." The slave collars and obviously drawn expressions on the sex workers spoke volumes about the cruel treatment therein. The other building that didn't looks like it was hastily constructed was a small field office of Czerka, where the employees outside were grumbling about how much money they lost when the company pulled out of Kashyyyk.
"Good thing we didn't take Mission or Zaalbar," Carth grumbled as they passed by.
Kairi took a brief look at the brothel before shaking her head and continuing down the street.
"You gonna say anything?" he asked sharply.
"You're angry and looking for an argument. I don't want to give you one," she said, sitting down on a large rock that was off to the side of the road. She smoothed the black outer robe.
"I see how you are," he grumbled, folding his arms. "I don't want to answer your questions, and you keep at it until I crack. Two can play on that one. Besides, you're trying to pass yourself off as a fallen Jedi. What's a little trip down memory lane?"
She looked up at him. "You believe I've lied to you this entire time."
"I don't know what to believe anymore." Bitter, familiar mistrust wrapped around him like comfortable, well-worn armor. It was a little annoying not to be able to do much about it, but one thing at a time. "You tell me."
"Warning: show the Master a little respect!" HK-47 gestured with his rifle. "Query: Do you care to suspend your earlier protocol?"
"Damn it, Carth. You know better."
"Well, well, now. Looks like we have some newcomers to the colony...Let's give them a proper welcome, shall we?"
They looked up to find themselves surrounded by a half-dozen youths. Their leader was a woman with close-cropped blond hair. She wore a knee-length gray robe and leggings with polished black boots. Sensing danger, Kairi was on her feet, hand on her saber, but not drawing it yet. One of her sycophants got a good look at it and groaned.
"Another Jedi. Let's really hurt this one, Lashowe. I hate the fallen ones. They always seem to think they're better -"
"Now, now," she assured the man. "Maybe this little Jedi has a use." She grinned. "Or, maybe that fellow she's got with her is...amicable."
"Eat a blaster, sister," Carth said, hand going for his holster.
She made a slight gesture that Carth recognized - force push. The jolt threatened to knock Carth off his feet, but he was ready for it, rolling with the jolt. He got to his feet, guns out. Little Sith brats wanted a fight. Sure thing...
"You really don't want a fight," Kairi warned. "And my friend is really less...amicable than I am."
One of the female bullies snickered. "Seems this one still has that 'Jedi' set of manners."
"So she does," Lashowe said. "Anyway, since you are new, let me introduce you. I'm Lashowe, and these are my friends from the Academy. I've just made Upper Tier, and have been here for a good, long time. See, here on Korriban, we Sith can do as we please, especially to lost little Jedi."
"Warning!" HK-47's eyes went gold, a sign he was warming up his combat protocols. Kairi made a hand gesture to tell him to stand down - at least for now.
"So, you claim to run the place?" Carth said. "Heh. Lots of responsibility for simple scum like you."
"We could kill 'em. Or make 'em lose control of their bladders. Either one would be fun," said the man.
Lashowe shrugged. "We did that to the last batch of hopefuls. It's not what I'm in the mood for. Let me see... " She folded her arms in an exaggerated gesture of contemplation. "Actually, I'm in the mood for a joke. A good one. How about it, Jedi? You make me laugh, you get to live?"
Carth was about to start shooting, but if he made an unprovoked scene here, it would drastically reduce his chances of getting inside that academy and getting what he wanted. Besides, all it would take is Kairi pulling that saber, and all the blame would go to her. He wanted her to light that saber. They could take these punks.
She had that saber pulled, but not lit, making sure the punks got a good look. "I'm not here to make you laugh. Find another amusement."
One of the women in Lashowe's gang chuckled. "This one's got a bit of a spine, at least!"
Lashowe glared at her. "Are you going to sit here and take this?"
One of the men waved her off. "Oh, get over yourself, Lashowe. Plenty of other hopefuls in the colony to play with. This is more bother than it's worth."
As they filed away, Carth looked at her, dumbfounded. "You actually -"
"We need the Map, Carth. Not a fight." She reached out to try and touch him, only to reconsider it and drop her hand to her side. "Maybe we should...split up. I'll take T3 and you take HK. We'll meet back up in a couple hours and keep the comlinks on."
He heard the words, but it was like thinking through a juma binge. Why was his head still on backwards when it came to her? "Why not take your personal assassin?" he asked, trying to still focus on being angry and bitter.
"I heard at least five dialects on the last block. How many languages can you speak?" When Carth didn't have an answer, she nodded. "HK, you go with him. Remember the protocols; follow his orders like they came from me."
"Acknowledgment," HK-47 said grudgingly, clanking his way to stand behind Carth. Carth was trying to find a reason to protest. But it was too late, as she and T3-M4 vanished into the crowd.
Damn. Well, she might get to see something he couldn't, being a Force user and all. Guess the best use he had was checking out the "unofficial" scoop on the town from the cantinas and the weapons dealers. He decided on the weapon shops first. It was hard to think in this place even sober, and something told him that you couldn't be too well-armed on this planet.
"Query: Where are we going, Auxiliary Master?"
"I saw a weapons shop back a kilometer. Figured I'd have a look."
"Statement: That is acceptable. I do hope to upgrade from this blaster rifle I am carrying. I have always thought a Sith assault gun would be the best fit to my capabilities. I had one that was my favorite when I worked for - " The droid stopped himself. "Retraction: I had one that was my favorite when I worked for my original master."
"Figures," Carth grumbled. "You know anything about Korriban?"
"Statement: Dreshdae was not so large the last time I was here, Auxiliary Master. It would appear that much of the colony has been hastily built due to the upswing in activity crossing this sector. Data indicating the location of our target would most likely be kept in the halls of the Sith Academy. Unfortunately, since you are not a Force user, I would judge your chances of entering those halls slim indeed."
"My son's in there, HK. Don't tell me the odds."
On the outskirts, next to the docks, was a ramshackle little shop that might have been converted from a warehouse. A sign by the door in several languages informed customers to "park their droids" before going in. Through the window, Carth could see an impressive array of weaponry. They probably stocked ammo - maybe even some upgrades. In either case, it certainly wouldn't hurt to check. And if HK-47 got distracted by the sight of guns like a five-year-old in a toy shop, so be it.
"HK, you...you look at the shiny guns in the window for a while and keep an eye out. I'll see what's inside."
"Acknowledgment."
He pushed open the door. The shop had two entrances – one on either side of the counter, in full view of the proprietor, a portly Rodian who made a point of keeping the shop tidy. A Twi'lek woman was talking to the only other customer in the shop, a human man inspecting the inventory of energy shields. She seemed to be talking about how proud she was that her boyfriend was a student at the academy.
Nothing to be proud of, sister.
Seeing a new customer, the Rodian greeted him. "New face here, eh? Seems a lot of new faces this time of year. You look a little old for the Academy, so you aren't here for that..."
"No. There's someone at the academy I want to see," Carth said, checking the shelves behind him. "What have you got for my blaster?" He took it out of the holster for the Rodian to inspect.
"Ooooh. Nice Arkanian design you got there. Family heirloom?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact, it is."
"Got just the thing. Those things can pack more powerful ammo than standard. Got some good stuff in the other day from Czerka guy. He had a baby's blaster! Good thing he didn't try shooting with the stuff. It would have blown up in his face. Big mess." The Rodian pulled the box from the shelf. "That model you got, though. It'll like this stuff. I also have improved energy cell if you like."
Carth counted the credits in his pocket. Yeah, it would be enough. "Sure. So, a lot of people come here to get into the academy?"
"Only reason they bother," the shopkeeper said. "Once each season, Masters Uthar and Yuthura go looking for students. Lots of hopefuls, and most go home disappointed. Plenty...don't get to go home at all. You do good thing in stopping to power up your guns. Stupid kids don't know difference between 'Sith' and 'thug.'"
Like there is a damn bit of difference. Seeing where he was, Carth kept his mouth shut, however.
Suddenly, the shop's door crashed open, and a young, human man walked in. He was dressed in the student grays, and a large medallion hung around his neck. Apparently, this was a novice, as he was packing a nasty-looking vibroblade instead of a lightsaber. The remaining human man dropped his purchases and fled the shop through the side door as fast as his legs could carry him. The young man's eyes darted crazily, like he was just waiting for an excuse to test out what he'd picked up at the academy. The Twi'lek woman, however, was oblivious.
"Northal!" She put his hands on his shoulders. "Sweetheart, I'm so glad to find you. I told you I'd come out here once I saved up the credits -"
He scowled at her. "So, who did you have to sleep with to get the money?"
She almost jumped a meter backwards. "Excuse me?"
He glowered. "You heard me. I bust my butt in that academy and barely hear a word from you!"
"I...I wrote every week! And you know better than that. It's hard to get any time off from the factory. I worked double shifts to save up the money, Northal, just so we could be -"
Her words died in her throat as she started to gag. Her hands went to her throat as she tried to pull in air.
"You shut your frelling mouth, shutta," he said. "Guess I shouldn't ask how many other guys you 'entertained.' Y'know, even when you were with me, you talked too damn much, Mareel."
She was trying to grab his robes and pull on them, silently pleading for her life.
He sniffed and kicked her. "And what makes you think you have any worth at all? There's no place for you at my side anymore."
Carth had brought up his blaster, and fired at the intruder, a warning shot close enough to part the punk's hair. "You let the lady go!"
The Sith grinned savagely, and kicked the woman again. Momentarily distracted, he broke his choke-hold, and left her curled up on the floor, gasping. The Rodian took the opportunity to dive in and pull her behind the counter.
"Lemme guess. You're the boyfriend?" Northal tapped his forearm. A blueish shimmer appeared over his body. Energy shield. Carth would have to deal with this the hard way. Sensing what was coming, the Rodian pulled a vibrosword from the wall and Carth snatched it.
"I'm not. I just don't watch Sith go beating up on unarmed ladies without saying my piece."
The Sith apprentice made ready to deal with the greater threat, pulling his vibroblade from the scabbard at his side. He grinned savagely at Carth before taking the first swing.
"Hmph. More like 'pieces,' old man."
Carth hadn't been the best melee fighter back on the Spire, preferring to use his blasters. But he had been sparring with the Jedi, mostly Kairi or Bastila, in order to get more practice with swords, seeing as how energy shields could render blasters useless. He hadn't quite realized how much he had learned. Northal's movements swung between clumsy reactions and wild attacks. Carth was able to easily block and dodge, the light armor he wore absorbing any shots that managed to land. One of the lucky shots scraped his arm, and a thin trickle of blood welled up from the wound.
Seizing an opportunity, Carth lunged and swept the attacker's legs out from under him, knocking him back into a display that fell over and crashed on top of him. Unfortunately for the punk, it was made of metal and weighted with merchandise. He wasn't getting up anytime soon. Carth put the tip of the blade to the kid's chest, giving him a chance to surrender. The Sith apprentice looked up at Carth, vile anger in his eyes, and tried to get a hand free so he could use that nasty little Force trick. Carth didn't give him a chance. Jamming his blade into the heart, the kid was dead before he could get a scream out.
"So is the fate of the foolish." There was another voice. A rich, even baritone. Carth whirled around, expecting another foe. Instead, he saw a sixty-something man with a fighter's build and the posture of a gentleman coming toward him from the back of the sore. How could he not be noticed in a place so small? Vivid purple and red tattoos in arcane patterns stood out on his shaved skull and ashen skin. He was dressed in Sith robes - but black, rather than the students' gray, an embroidered crest on his upper right shoulder.
"What do you want?" Carth asked, adrenaline and anger overriding his good sense.
The Sith "gentleman" looked him over carefully, pulling out a small square of cloth, and pressing it to Carth's arm. With the other, he picked up the blaster Carth had left on the counter and studied it, taking particularly note of the family crest on its handle before handing it back to him. "The heraldry is Telosian. I should have recognized your accent."
The hair on Carth's neck stood up as he took his blaster from the man's icy hands, holding the cloth in place until the bleeding staunched. The elder Sith walked over to the dead student and shook his head, taking the medallion from the dead boy's neck. Handing it to Carth and taking back the bloodied cloth, he remarked, "A lot of power in this one, but no wisdom. As for you, report to the academy tomorrow, and show that medallion to the guard. Once inside, I have a job to offer you."
With that, he left the shop. The shopkeeper's jaw was practically on the floor.
"What was that about?" Carth grumbled.
"You not know? That's Master Uthar himself! Headmaster of the Academy. You wanted to see someone in the academy, you do as he says!"
KOTOR1
Kairi's route was direct, heading out of the colony and directly up the precipitous climb to the Academy, located halfway up a mountain ten kilometers from Dreshdae's southern wall. The winter air, chilly with more than natural cold, made her shiver despite the exertion of climbing. The path on the stone was worn down from many years and many students marching to its iron gates.
I go into the academy to find out where the Map is - nothing more. I do the job, and I get out. At least I know Carth will probably not hesitate should this place poison me.
The sentry patrolling the gate sneered at her from behind his silver, faceless armor. "You have not been chosen as a student of this academy. Leave at once."
"How would I be chosen, then?" she asked.
"The Upper Tier students have been sent out into the colony to recruit for potential Sith. If they deem you worthy, they will grant you a medallion that acts as a passkey. The final decision, however, lies with Yuthura Ban. She is the apprentice to the Academy's headmaster."
"And how would I find her?"
"It is not my place to tell you. Now, leave or be killed."
Seeing she wouldn't get far with the guard, Kairi turned back around and headed for Dreshdae, finding a longer, more winding path that snaked around the western slope - one that was much less likely to cause a neck-breaking fall. It cut through a valley below, forming a maze of sheer rock wall. Formations in the cliffs may have been statues once, time and winds wearing them down until they were vague, humanoid shapes jutting out from the mountainsides.
As she walked, she was seized with a vague sense of dread, a gnawing in her gut that felt like hunger. Lowering her shields and reaching out with her perceptions, she felt the eddies of Force around her like a kath hound sniffing for prey and found where it was coming from. Racing ahead, she ran down an incline too sharp for T3-M4 to follow, the droid waiting at the top of the hill, warbling a protest she paid no heed to.
At the end of a dead-end corridor of sandstone, she saw three men standing against a wall - an Aqualish and two humans. Their clothing hung off their gaunt bodies and over distended bellies, and their lips were cracked. They stared at her with sunken eyes as she passed by them.
She approached one of the men who looked up at her and begged. "Please, don't…don't hurt me. I am…too weak from hunger and thirst."
The second human sneered at the first. "Quit begging…fool. I will be the one chosen." He coughed weakly. "And I will laugh as you collapse from exposure and Mekel's beatings."
The Aqualish seemed the best off of the three. "Please go away. Whoever you are, please don't distract me. I…have to stand at attention."
Their hunger pain clawed at her gut, knotting it and twisting it, making it hard to stand. Most of all, she saw red before her eyes. Were these men victims of the Sith? Condemned prisoners, maybe? She couldn't keep the restrained anger out of her voice. "Why?"
"I'm trying to…prove my worth and get into the academy. You have to earn a medallion from one of the other Sith. Mekel is over there - " The Aqualish pointed to a figure looking down on them from a nearby cliff. "And says he will give one to the one who survives longest. We've been here for…so many days. A couple have already died…"
Kairi did not know whether to be horrified or disgusted. The Sith could devise many fiendish tests, but something like that was not their style. If these three were foolish enough to volunteer for this, then didn't they deserve their fate? However, their pain was distracting, and perhaps they already knew they'd been tricked. She pulled out her flask of fresh water, and approached the Aqualish. "He must be lying. Here, share it with the others."
"No…I…I cannot. Mekel will kill us. The last man who accepted water, Mekel snapped his neck!" He gestured upward, where Kairi saw a human figure silhouetted against the morning light.
Her eyes narrowed. "I see."
Marching up the hill, she found a tall young man with a well-trimmed beard and a gray uniform similar to Lashowe's and an elaborate medallion hung around his neck.
"Mekel?" she asked.
"Yes?" he drawled, looking her over. "Oh, to what do I owe the company of a fallen Jedi, hmm?"
"I'll take that medallion around your neck, seeing as you're merely toying with those three hopefuls down there."
He shrugged. "Those fools actually think that if they stand here long enough, they will earn the medallion and be accepted into the academy." He looked down at them. "Idiots, all of them. A Sith is not a bantha - all endurance and no brains. A Sith fights for his life, no matter the odds. No, I'll be keeping this little trinket after all, since these rotgrubs are so stupid they earn this fate."
She could feel the raw hunger of the dying men, and rage started to gnaw at her like a kath hound. "Your fun is over. Let them go."
"You're in no position to demand anything. I'll do as I please and if watching these fools die amuses me, that's what I'll do."
"We could always solve it with a duel," she suggested. "But you'd lose."
Mekel shrugged, his casual indifference making her bristle. "I doubt it, but let's see you try and convince them. After you fail, I can add you to the notches on my saber."
She shook her head and marched back down the hill. As disgusted as she was with the "hopefuls," she was more disgusted with Mekel.
The Aqualish looked up at her. "Did…did he say I was worthy?"
"He's lying to all of you," she said. "This isn't a real test and none of you are worthy of the Academy. Get out of here."
The first human stared at her in shock and promptly collapsed. Kairi ran over to him, the Aqualish hobbling behind her.
The man's breathing was shallow and raspy for a couple seconds. Kairi tried to summon healing energies, opening her empathy and trying to connect to the man. It was too late. The starved, beaten man's breath ended in a gurgle, and Kairi felt the stabbing darkness of a life ending. The Aqualish looked horrified.
"No…Not after…" He looked nervously up the hill.
"Go," Kairi said.
The Aqualish somehow summoned the strength to get away, vanishing into the maze of cliffs.
The last man standing glared at her. "You…you won't trick me. You…"
"Don't you see he's lying?"
"You've ruined the others. He…he will find me worthy, not you."
She made a grab for his arm. He was getting out of here, like it or not. But, Mekel was still watching from his view on the cliff top. With a simple gesture, he snapped the man's neck from within, and without breaking his stride, walked back in the direction of the Academy.
KOTOR1
With her attention elsewhere and walking alone, she made for easy prey. It was, therefore, an exercise in frustration to be staring at her through macrobinoculars, too far away to strike effectively. Bandon handed them to the Dark Jedi accompanying him, one of two minions he was allowed for the mission.
This task had to be undertaken with the utmost discretion. If it were known that Revan lived still, it would split the Sith, dividing them on the verge of triumph. Bandon also knew too well, that many among the Sith did not believe Malak earned his title.
"Your plan, my Lord?"
"If she plans on entering the Academy, then let her. It will prove the perfect trap." He stood and started walking toward it.
KOTOR1
As she caught back up with T3-M4, she walked back into the colony. Along the longer path were the abandoned remains of prefabricated shacks and abandoned archaeological digs. It seems the Sith were interested in mining Korriban's past to increase their power. If that was the case, it wouldn't have hard to find the Star Map – those reeked of Dark Side power like latrines in high summer.
It shouldn't be too hard to find more Sith, the way they strutted around the colony and…
For the second time that day, a sudden jolt of raw terror jolted her. Danger - people were in mortal terror nearby. Her hand went to the saber as T3-M4 whooped out an alarm and started speeding down one of the narrow streets. Kairi followed. Where the street became a dead-end, a thin-faced youth in Sith student grays had three more up against a wall. A fourth. dead already. was crumpled on the muddy ground.
"No! That is the wrong answer. Again, you pathetic hopefuls can't all possibly be that stupid."
"M...Master Shaardan," said one of them. "Just let us go. We...we've learned our lesson."
He sneered at the lot of them, and Kairi felt nauseous. Bile burned the back of her throat. Her fingers curled around her saber.
Shaardan flashed a cruel smile as he raised one hand, and made a squeezing gesture with another. The one who spoke was lifted helplessly in the air, rotating like meat on a slow-roaster. At the same time, the poor lad was clutching his throat helplessly, clawing for air.
"I'm no master...yet. Though I do like your groveling. Speaking of Masters, though - say Master Uthar himself came by right now and told you to attack me, spare this one's life. Do you do it?"
"Of...of...course..." stammered the lone female. "He...he's a master, and what he says -"
Shaardan tightened his fist a little harder. The poor captive was starting to flail all the harder, eyes bulging and lips going blue.
"Another reason why you will never qualify as a Sith. Do you think we are really so interested in cowards? He asked for you to show mercy, and this is an unforgivable weakness. Your duty to the Sith would be to kill him there and show true power."
Kairi pushed out with one hand, knocking Shaardan to the ground. It also disrupted his hold on the boy, who dropped to the ground. Kairi made a brief scan. That victim was merely unconscious. The female went over to check on him while Shaardan's attention was focused on the new element in the picture.
"Quite the Sith you are, Shaardan," she said with contempt. "Attacking people who aren't able to fight back."
"Oh. A Jedi," he said dryly, trying to cover his surprise. "Fallen so far as to come here. Tell me, what would you plan on doing with these fools? They'll never make the academy, but perhaps a lesson is in order. Force lightening, maybe? Very efficient and painful. Or maybe turn their skins inside out."
Kairi did not answer, glaring at him. The mortal fear she had felt from the one he had been choking was still too fresh in her mind, as was Mekel's casual sadism. Her teeth were gritted in fury. This pathetic bully wasn't going to hurt any more innocents, and unlike Kashyyyk, ten more weren't going to be killed if she took him down.
Shaardan took her silence as an opening to continue proposing suggestions. "Maybe just humiliation, if that will appease what's left of your honor. Strip off their tunics and have them run about Dreshdae naked?"
Kairi made another sweeping gesture with her hand, throwing that fear back at Shaardan. The young Sith howled and dropped to his knees, clutching his head and whimpering. She nodded to the pair of hopefuls, who fled, leaving their unconscious friend behind.
"What...what are you doing to me?" Shaardan sounded very lost and scared.
"Giving back what you gave to them." Her voice was like still water. "This is what your captives were feeling. Not pleasant, is it?"
"No...No..." He was shaking now, a cold sweat breaking over his face. She walked up to him and yanked the medallion from his neck. It was freezing to the touch, the Dark Side energy channeled into it pulling all warmth from the air around it. It had no doubt been passed from student to student, absorbing more of their anger, fears, and aggression.
"I'm looking for Yuthura Ban. Tell me how to find her."
"Miss…Mistress Yuthura is at the Drunk Side cantina. She...she decides which hopefuls get selected."
She pulled back her hand, and stopped the flow of fear. Oh, but how she wanted to continue it. "I hope never to see you again." She looked down at the utility droid at her side. "Come on, T3."
Pulling her cloak around her, she walked off into the colony, following the droid.
KOTOR1
Canderous faulted out the open top of the landspeeder. It hadn't taken long to gain the right attention in Dreshdae, his sleeveless top displaying his clan tattoo and sending a subtle advertisement as to his purpose here. A Sullistan fellow offered a fair price for a ride three-dozen kilometers out of Dreshdae, one Canderous took him up on. Juhani was joining him, dressed in her old "Tarisian" clothing - a practical tan jumpsuit with half-mask and hood that hid most of her feline features, save the gold eyes.
"More Mandalorians. Don't know what brings you to Korriban, but can't refuse the credits or the salvage they sell." He got a good look at Juhani. Her lithe form and gold eyes were a dead giveaway. "Your slave could be hired out to the brothel in town for a while. Exotics bring good credits."
"She's no slave. She's family." Canderous said simply. He handed the stack of credit vouchers to the driver while Juhani unpacked their gear from the trunk. A tent, sleep rolls, and additional weapons. Juhani had initially been uncomfortable with picking up a vibroblade rather than her lightsaber, but was smart enough to value discretion. She would be attracting enough attention being non-Mandalorian. Being revealed as a Jedi would double the problems, especially since this was Korriban.
"Fifteenth guy I drive out here," drawled the Sullistan, counting his fare. "Thanks for the credits, Mister."
The Sullistan, satisfied that he had been paid fairly, drove off towards Dreshdae, leaving them alone. They stood on a short distance from the beginnings of a makeshift camp. Neatly-organized tents were lined up with the precision of marching armies, three pavilions were set up in the center, and there was a buzz of activity as men walked among them, or sparred with one another in the open spaces.
The guard at the gate looked Canderous over and nodded, but his gaze lingered a little longer over Juhani before waving them through and directing them where to set up their tent.
Juhani looked up at Canderous. "I think it may have been a bad idea to bring me along."
There was no mistaking the ethnicity of the men that sat here. Some wore suits of scavenged armor, others clutched their blasters. Rude jokes were told and boasts made. Juhani stiffened. Canderous huffed.
"I wouldn't worry. You and I could wipe the floor with most of them. The rest would piss themselves and run."
"The Mandalorians destroyed my kind, and now I am surrounded by them. It is...unsettling."
"Now you know how I feel, stuck on a boatload of Jedi."
"Are you...?" She struggled to form the question.
"I'm here for Jagi. That's all. You're along to make sure he doesn't pull something stupid like last time. This is the Gathering. Every five years, clans meet on some planet or another. We train, we share stories of the battles we fought. And the highlight is a contest that tests our skills against a hostile environment and one another. Much honor is given to the man who wins, of course."
They arrived at the spot, placed at the far edge of the camp. The atmosphere here could almost be called festive. Men sat around in knots, telling stories and cleaning their weapons. Some of the prostitutes from Dreshdae were making a thriving business as they made their way through the tents. Tests of strength were everywhere - from arm wrestling and mock battle to the telling of tall tales.
"Why Korriban?" Juhani asked as she positioned the first of the tent supports. Canderous picked up a hammer to strike it into the ground.
"Well, it's out in the middle of nowhere, for one. Second, Mandalorians and Sith have made alliances in the past…though they rarely come out well. Mandalore the Indomitable had met a fallen Jedi, Exar Kun's apprentice, in battle. He lost, and we were honor-bound to serve the Sith Lord. It was...a dark time for our people, but given that alliance, few would question the presence of Mandalorians on a Sith world. Anywhere else, and a Gathering would attract attention." He scowled. "I think his successor had forgotten about our time under Qel-Droma. Why else would he trust the Sith again?"
"Is Mandalore a title or a name?"
"A bit of both," Canderous answered, driving the metal into the ground. "You see, the Mando'ade started as a cluster of Taung tribes fighting for limited resources. Then there was one, the first Mandalore. His entire clan had been wiped out by a rival tribe, sparing only him. When he came of age, he swore vengeance against the tribe."
They moved onto the second support. Again, Juhani positioned it. "Sounds...familiar."
Canderous brought up the hammer and gave the support a hearty blow. A second drove it all the way in. "Ah, but here's where it gets interesting. He did lay waste to the rivals - during a wedding feast no less. Slaughtered them all for what they wrought to his clan...but there was a boy who survived. He fought Mandalore with everything he had."
"He won?"
"No, he lost. But Mandalore looked upon the lad and realized that what he had done accomplished little. Tribes wasted their best warriors against other tribes when there were greater foes than one another. He spared the life of the young man in exchange for servitude. Together, they went off to prove themselves the greatest of warriors - the ones who would unite all tribes under a single banner. When the first Mandalore perished at the hands of his enemies, the man he had trained killed those enemies, taking the name and the helmet in honor of the first."
"And the contest that they mention?"
"They're meant to test the warrior against the elements and against others, as Mandalore had been tested. The formal purpose behind it is to teach us reverence for the first Mandalore's skill and strength. Mostly, however, the Gathering's an excuse to drink, fight, boast, and catch up with old friends."
One of the pavilions was a drinking tent. Makeshift plank tables scattered around, and men sitting on large stones were tended to by a company of wenches while a well-fed Duros worked behind the bar, pouring out measured portions of ale. A fire pit in the center made the place smoky, but let off heat and light.
On a raised dais was a fancier table where five people sat. Canderous saw them and halted dead in his tracks.
"What is it?" she asked.
"The five sitting there. Those are some of the greatest warriors ever known. See that one, the man with the missing eye?" Canderous pointed to a grizzled man with a patch over his right eye, much of the rest of his face lost in a ratted mess of white hair and beard. "That's Aj Kellian. The Jedi had his camp under siege for a month. He managed to rally his forces and take them on - fifteen to one odds - to turn certain defeat into a victory."
The next one Canderous pointed to was the youngest man at the table, his face layered with scars, including a distinctive J-shaped scar that curled from temple to jaw. "That's Brax Selha - can't believe that man survived Malachor! His weapon of choice is the fighter ship. As Revan's fleet forced us back to the planet, they activated this…terrible device. I'd blow the head off the chakaar that cooked it up, after shaking his hand for being so inventive. It was an artificial gravity well that sucked our ships in like a whirlpool. It was a devastating device like none we had ever seen. Brax got closer to Malachor than any man who lived to tell the tale, tricking his foes in by the dozen."
"The third," Canderous pointed to a man the size of a tank droid, fists like small barrels. "Gar Kal'mor. Mandalore's personal weapons-master. He managed to hold off Malak himself at the boarding party. Revan was only able to get half the troops she wanted aboard the ship because of him. She broke the ranks on our end like glass, but Malak was fought to a standstill and eventually took enough losses to call it off."
The fourth was a man with a hook-like prosthetic replacing a lost left hand. He appeared to be very old - bald with several teeth missing. Still, he seemed to watch the room with the gaze of a Bespin hawk. "Taeg Mailen. His days of fighting are all but gone, but there was never a better man for tactics. He masterminded the attack that took Onderon, completely blasting Vaklu's forces with half the anticipated casualties on our end. From there, he managed to hold the city until the very end of the war. The only reason the Gods allowed him that old age is because he can see an attack even before his opponent thinks of it."
The last was most surprising to Juhani. The hair was cut short, and the face no less scarred than any other, but the last was clearly a woman! Canderous beamed. "Ah, yes. Anja Trav. Fought by Mandalore's side from the first invasion to the battle of Star's End. Only reason she didn't go to Malachor was because she lost too much blood from her injuries at Star's End to hold her weapon."
"I thought you didn't have women warriors."
"Are you kidding? Figures you and the Republic think that. We're smarter than that. If they don't have brats, they're in the armor like everyone else. If they do have children or elders, then they're guarding those. And who in the hell do you think guards the spoils of our victories?"
Juhani didn't know whether to feel anger towards them or share in her companion's enthusiasm. She knew all too well the brutality and blood-lust these people had. Yet, the part of her that was a fighter could appreciate the skill and fortitude it must have taken to accomplish such things.
There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
No sooner had they crossed into the room did they hear a shout.
"As I breathe! There's an Ordo about. Thought the lot of you went down at Malachor!"
"Dead clan anyway," heckled another.
As Juhani was about to sit down, a large hand yanked her back. "Slaves ain't welcome here."
"Back off," Canderous snarled. "She's with me."
A man that could have been Canderous's younger self wrapped an arm around her waist. His voice was a bit slurred. This obviously wasn't his first ale of the night. "I back off as soon as the slave runs along and fetches me something to drink. Maybe I can borrow her for a few hours?"
Juhani glanced at Canderous, who nodded approval. The offender found himself with Juhani's elbow rammed into his gut as she stamped his instep, Ducking out of his grasp, she followed up with a savage uppercut that sent him staggering back and falling over the table he had been sitting at. The rest of the crowd started laughing. The three at the table stood up and glowered down at Canderous, reaching for their weapons. Juhani went for her sword, Canderous readied his cannon.
"Hold!"
Like judging Gods appraising a mortal who had entered their court, the five chieftains were transfixed on Canderous and Juhani. Canderous grit his teeth and swore. This wasn't the fight he wanted.
It was Taeg that spoke. "Explain yourself."
In most cultures, the proper thing to do when creating a disturbance in front of one's superiors would be to apologize, perhaps even to grovel. Mandalorians were not most cultures.
"Canderous of Ordo. This fool decided to put his hands on my vod when she didn't want those hands placed there."
"Your partner is no Mandalorian," Anja said, pointing out the glaringly obvious. "So why bring her?"
"Aliit ori'shya taldin . I marked her as battle-kin, so she's got as much right as me to be here. As you can see, she fights clean. I just have business with one of the men here. I'll see to it and be gone."
"Which man?" Brax asked sternly.
"My kinsman, Jagi. He fled a fair battle. I'm here to finish it."
Aj folded his arms, eyes and mouth set in stone from underneath the white hair. "From what I heard, it was you who abandoned the fight, fleeing with your Jedi employer."
"So, he is here."
"He is with his second, yes. He's been sequestered, as all the candidates are. The contest starts in the morning." Aj had no doubt heard an earful of Jagi's ranting, and would be disinclined to give Canderous access.
Gar cracked his oversized knuckles. "The only men that will be doing battle with him are others in the contest, and if he does prove himself, then it is you who will be executed for fleeing the battle and forfeiting your honor."
"Fine then," Canderous said. "If that is what must be done to settle this, then I ask to participate."
"With...the woman as your second?" Brax asked.
"I trust her with my life, and we have fought many battles together."
A shout from the far end. "Did I hear you right? That Cathar going to be your second?"
"Why not? She can fight!"
A voice from the crowd. "You call her vod? Do you really think she earns that status?"
"That position is for Mandalorians."
"Let battle solve it."
"With no clan, that's the best he's got for a woman!"
The five at the table conferred briefly with one another. Brax and Aj seemed very opposed to the idea. Taeg seemed to approve. Gar seemed amused by the idea. The tie-breaking vote was Anja's.
"Very well. We will allow you to fight and prove your honor, and that of your battle-sister, through the contest. Let combat settle it."
With judgment passed, the commotion settled down and people went back to their drinking. Canderous sank down on the bench and swore under his breath. "Well, things just became a lot more complicated than I thought they'd be."
KOTOR1
The only seat in this smoky, crowded cantina was in the back, right across from the woman that she had been told to see. It was hard not for the purple-skinned Twi'lek to be noticed, her back to the wall as she lingered over a pint of the local brew. Tattoos covered her lekku and framed her face, vanishing into the ebony headmistress uniform. This had to be Yuthura Ban.
Kairi watched her for a few moments, fascinated. She was quite beautiful, though the Dark Side was starting to warp her features, some of her lilac skin taking on an ashen undertone, her hands gaunt and taking on the appearance of claws. Trying to focus on her with empathy, she found the usual bitter anger and superiority that was the usual hallmark of a Sith, but with a vast sadness underneath.
So intent she had been in studying that it caught the Sith Mistress's attention. Looking up sharply, she gestured to Kairi to approach. Not wanting to miss her chance, Kairi did as commanded.
"Like what you see, Jedi?" Yuthura taunted.
"Well, yes, actually," Kairi admitted.
Yuthura laughed. "Bold." She looked Kairi over from crown to toe and smiled. "Ah, I see. Come to strike me down, perhaps?"
She straightened at attention, and pulled the medallion from her pocket, placing it on the table. "Actually, I came to see what I can learn from you."
She chuckled and gestured to the empty seat across from her while she ordered a refill on her drink. "So you are just another hopeful after all. Obviously, you are a Jedi and have had some training. Surprising they'd let you go..."
She bowed her head. "Yes, yes it is."
"So, you're here but I want to hear it in your own words. Are you here to become a Sith?"
Feeling a little emboldened by her experience with Shaardan earlier, she told Yuthura the truth. "I have seen the Sith here, and haven't liked much of what I've seen. Why would I want to become one?"
Kairi was expecting Yuthura to become angry and offended, but the Twi'lek woman only laughed. "You have, have you? You're dealing with students, I'll bet. Ones that have a long way to go before they can truly appreciate what being a Sith means." She leaned in, her eyes lit with excitement. "We wield ultimate power. That is a truth the Jedi would hide from you. They are hidebound relics, trying to discern the Force's will like frightened old men staring at the stars. The Force serves us. Joining with up with us is a path to strength, a path to glory."
Yuthura probably had seen enough of those who had fawned over her, or told her what she wanted to hear, so Kairi decided the truth was still the best option. "I've seen hopefuls die, and seen citizens getting bullied by your students. That seems more a petty waste of time than pursuit of glory."
The waiter came by with the drink. Yuthura sampled it gingerly, and then made a small gesture over it. "When will they learn that I know how to dilute a poison if I'm looking for one?" She cleared her throat and clasped her hands around the glass. "We make no apologies for the weak. If you cannot close your fist and strike, then there is no place for you here. The people come of their own choosing. If they are merely weak, they go home with a lesson learned. If they are weak and foolish, they die. No apologies are to be made."
Kairi processed it. It made a twisted kind of sense. There were many things worse than death, after all. "So, you would not call yourselves evil, or believe you serve the Dark Side?"
"Frankly, I am shocked you even want this conversation, but I suppose if you are to join us, you will only do so once your questions are properly addressed." She took a swallow of her drink, her long fingers circling the rim of the glass.
"If I am to walk this path again, m'lady, I wish to walk it with my eyes open." The "again" slipped from her, and Kairi hoped she would be able to salvage the situation.
That got Yuthura's attention. "Again? Is your mind maladjusted in some way?" She tilted her head, as if it would reveal something otherwise hidden.
"A slip of the tongue," Kairi explained. "I tasted the Dark Side, and discovered the Jedi lied to me. So, if my place isn't there, I wish to see what has been hidden from me."
"I'm very familiar with Jedi lies," she said dryly. "And to speak of the Dark Side not in terms of power, but to learn and understand, - definitely not the stance I hear every day. What a strange puzzle you are, human. Doubtless the Jedi didn't know what in the stars to do with you." A predatory grin crossed her face. "We do."
"How so?"
"The Force serves us. The Jedi are slaves to it, letting themselves be lashed to it like a millstone. We shape it to our will. Our gift makes us stronger, so why squander it?" Yuthura finished with a long draught from her drink. "Actually, I should be glad for these questions. Too many hopefuls aren't putting the slightest bit of thought into their consideration. You amuse me, at the very least."
"So it is the place of those with power to rule over the ones who do not?" Kairi was reading Yuthura carefully. So far, she didn't seem to be hitting a wrong note.
"You're already starting to understand," Yuthura noted. She signaled the bartender to bring over another drink for Kairi. "To your question, ask yourself if the tu'kata beast leaping on his squellbug for the kill is evil, or the sarkaath beast that dominates the jungle. The strong survive, the weak perish, and life continues. This is the law of nature, of the universe - all is chaos aside from this." Her emphasis on "chaos" gave Kairi a vague sense of familiarity.
"You were -" Quick to sense a flash of anger from Yuthura, she cleared her throat. "Pardon me, you were saying that there is no such thing as evil?"
"You said it yourself, even the Jedi lie when it suits them. Even they see those without the Force's gift as weaker and in need of shepherding. Expose them for what they are and their high-minded foolishness collapses like rotten timbers before the storm."
She has a point. "I see that I would learn much from the Sith. About joining you?"
"Heard enough, then? I will admit I'm feeling charitable today, and you seem a good deal brighter than the usual oafs who approach. I bring you the academy, however, and survival is up to you. We are Sith, and Sith must always be on their guard. A moment's lowering of the guard invites a rival to cut your throat."
Something told Kairi this would be a perverse inversion of the Dantooine academy, and concentrated all the harder on quashing her empathy. The brutal weeks of trying to quarantine herself from her loved ones was going to pay off, she suspected.
Yuthura looked over at T3. "Bring your droid as well. Many of our students use a protocol or utility model to assist in their studies. This will do nicely."
"Very well. I'll make preparations. Where shall I meet you next?"
"At 0600, outside the southern gate of the colony."
"I will be there," Kairi said firmly, standing and offering a slight bow.
KOTOR1
Carth already was back on the ship when she arrived, slouching in the pilot's chair, eyes closed.
She crossed the threshold of the cockpit door and sat in the co-pilot's chair. "Carth?"
He cracked open an eye. "Oh. Find a way to get into the Sith Academy yet?"
"Yes, I did. It would seem that the assistant Headmistress of the Academy does her recruiting from one of the cantinas. I'll meet her in the morning." She put her hand on his. "I'll find Dustil for you, Carth."
"Without you, he wouldn't be in that cesspit to start with," Carth shot back, yanking his hand away.
"Again you want an argument and I can't give one to you." Kairi sagged in the seat further. "No more than you will accept any apology I could give."
"Figures. Not a damn bit of remorse."
"Aside from dreams and visions that don't fit together, I can remember nothing from before the Endar Spire," she admitted. "It is as if they're all talking about some...some stranger."
"Nice to hear they wiped your conscience at the same time as your memory. The rest of us get to live with the fallout. 'Jedi justice' at its best." He gave her an accusing look. "Maybe we should head to Telos - have you breathe in the poison that used to be atmosphere, let you walk around the bombed out ruins. I'd take you to the graves to have a good look, but there weren't any. We just threw the dead in one big pile and lit off plasma charges. Disease was as bad as the bombing."
"Anyway, I found my own way in." Carth drawled, pulling the silver medallion from his pocket.
Kairi touched it and winced.
"I know," Carth said. "For some reason, it feels cold to the touch. Short of putting it on the engine vent, I don't think it heats up. Might be a property of the local metal."
"How did you get this?" Emotions flashed through her as she held it - pain, fear, rage, death. "Carth, something…happened to you in the colony. I sense death on you."
"Self defense. Sith punk attacked his girlfriend in the weapons shop. We fought, he lost." He leaned back. "Guy named Uthar, head of the Academy, saw the whole thing. He offered me a job and said to report in tomorrow."
Something sounded bad about this whole thing. If there was a resemblance - any at all - between Carth and his son, then Uthar would be fool not to capitalize on it. That, and Carth's emotions...they were always very powerful, and could be so easily twisted, as unstable as he was right now.
Mind your own emotions, Revan, came a chiding thought that sounded too much like Vrook. She opened her mouth to argue, but he raised a hand to cut her off.
"Don't even think about it," he argued. "If I don't go in, neither will you."
"Carth, I don't know -"
"I'm not just there for Dustil. Someone needs to keep an eye on you. I'm not their former leader, remember? Now, I've pulled deep-cover missions like this before. I know what the stakes are."
You haven't just pulled them "before." You're still on one. I don't know how much you've told Dodonna, but...She cleared her throat and let the question hang in the air for a while as she decided whether or not to voice it. Finally, the need to ask outweighed her want to keep it silent. "If it were known to the Republic that I..." she stopped herself. "What would they do?"
"They'd execute you, most likely," he said. "Of course, the Senate could go on for years about who gets to pull the switch. Whoever wins that argument would get to decide the method. Telos does poison gas. Onderon might still use a firing squad."
"What purpose does executing a prisoner serve, Carth?" She closed her eyes and tried to picture it. If she somehow survived the fight with Malak, then death was what she earned. It was just the prospect of being led out like a trophy and having to see Mission or Juhani in the crowd that she dreaded.
"Aside from making sure the piece of sentient slime can't hurt anyone else ever again? It lets anyone else who even thinks of attempting something like that think twice before doing it. It gives closure to the victims."
She cracked her shields just a bit and let it process, let herself try and see it through his eyes. "Did killing Saul Karath...did that bring you closure?"
He jerked his head to look up at her and Kairi almost winced. She had never felt such hatred rolling off him. "Get out of here, Revan," he shot back.
She calmly rose from the chair and walked out of the cockpit.
KOTOR1
Meanwhile, in his office at the academy, Uthar addressed the imposing man in black armor with a calculated indifference. Bandon was a little too much like Malak for Uthar's liking, and had even less intellect. Under Malak, the Sith were strong and brutal, but they had no concept or respect for subtlety or calculation.
"It is interesting to learn of Revan's survival, Lord Bandon. We all thought for sure that Malak's strike was true. I'm not surprised at the Jedi's reaction to it, either, though the autonomy she has been given is curious."
"Is that all you have to say about it?" Bandon paced the room like a caged kath hound. "'Curious' and 'interesting' – you are an academic, Uthar. That's why you are not sitting on the throne."
"The Sith is more than whoever takes the throne. It is a belief, an ideal, and a struggle for greatness," Uthar explained with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I prefer creating Dark Lords and shaping the future of the Sith. In that, lies my victory. May the strongest win."
Bandon said sharply. "I warn you, Uthar. You will carry out your lord's orders and see to her elimination."
Fool. All lightsaber and no planning. Worse, these younglings that infest my academy seek to emulate your dull-witted approach. Given my preference, I'd just as soon have Lady Revan mount your head on iron pike next to Malak's.
"She has already gained entrance to the academy. I'll be testing my students against her. She may have been powerful once, but the Jedi have diluted her power and only a shell remains. The tombs or the other students will finish her, I think. That is, unless she embraces the Dark Side."
"And if she should, Uthar, should I question where your loyalties lie?"
Uthar folded his arms, staring pointedly at Bandon. "I am loyal to the Sith, Lord Bandon, and my place is this academy. That is my answer. If this hollow woman is destroyed, it is of no consequence. Malak keeps his throne."
"And if she does not?"
"You seem to place high odds on her survival. I have taught my students well. She will not succeed. If she does, however…then I will arrange for you to be the one to cut her down." Uthar smiled. "And I will do one better should that be the case. If you kill her, I will spread the word that you and not Malak, was the one to finally kill the Dark Lady. From there, I have little doubt that will grant you enough support to take the throne yourself."
He saw the smile split Bandon's face. Typical idiot, only thinking of the simple and immediate power grab. Even if you do get the throne, you won't know how to run things unless you rely on me.
Uthar picked up the datapad Bandon brought him and made another scroll through it. "And thank you for the dossiers on her traveling companions as well. The Force serves us well in that regard. Too bad that there isn't much data to go on for some of them. There is one, however, that I was fortunate enough to find."
"And destroyed?"
"Lord Bandon, I mean no disrespect to your rank, but there is merit in knowing the right moment to strike, and preparing for that moment. No, I did not kill him outright. If you must know, one of Revan's companions is the father of one of my students. Dustil has the makings of a fine Sith, but he hasn't fully dedicated himself to the Dark Side. However, he holds a lot of anger towards his father. Between that and what Karath put in his notes...I think Commander Onasi will act nicely as our shatterpoint."
"And her other companions?"
"I will leave those, my lord, in your brutal and capable hands."