Three: Down a Dark Path
Shen ducked under Sergeant Drake's horizontal swing with practiced ease, bringing her blade above and behind her to parry the first dueling droid's downward strike with her vibrosword, and aiming a Force-augmented kick at the legs of the second sword-wielding droid, sending it sprawling. Rolling away from Drake and the still-standing droid, she rose to her feet and deftly decapitated the prone droid with a single slice before turning to face her remaining opponents. Drake and the last standing droid circled her warily, the blades of their vibroswords humming and blurring as they advanced.
Yesterday, Shen had defeated Drake in one of their training saber duels for the second time. Today when she arrived, he had military-grade combat droids to back him up, and they moved from training sabers to more dangerous vibroswords. The simple, matte black armor Shen now wore in her training duels was a gift from Lord Syan, "appropriate for a Sith acolyte", he said. The vibrosword had been given to her as well. The armor was substantial enough to slow down a vibroblade strike, but it wouldn't turn away a strong stroke or stab, so the stakes were much higher. So far, Shen had managed to avoid serious injury, and with one droid down the odds were looking better. Still, she couldn't be complacent. She could feel Drake's anger at her, and his desire to injure or kill her to avenge the slight of losing to the student he had disdained for so long., and underneath his anger, driving it, Shen could feel his fear of her. He knew now what she was, had heard the rumors from those who had fallen to her in her prison escape, and he had to be wondering if she held a grudge for all the beatings he had given her at Lord Syan's order.
From the duelist droids, by contrast, Shen could feel nothing at all, and their lack of emotion or intent had required some adjustment. Now she was learning their attack patterns, and it was time to end the match. Drake and the droid both attacked at once from opposite sides of her. Shen sensed the path of Drake's thrust and avoided it, then let the Force flow through her legs, jumped over the droid's horizontal swing, landed behind it and stabbed her sword through its torso with a backward thrust, twisting the blade before yanking it free. The droid collapsed in a shower of sparks, and Shen whirled to catch Drake's next blow on her blade as he moved forward. One on one, they traded blows, and this time Shen sensed that it was Drake who was getting tired. The Force filled her, refreshed her, and with a grin that had no humor in it, she went on the attack. It was exhilarating putting Drake on the defensive. Even with the muscle she had put on in recent months he was still much bigger and stronger, but his advantage was gone. She could feel what he was going to do before he did it, and the Force made her faster, more nimble and sure. The ending was inevitable. Shen broke through his guard and struck at the base of his weapon, slicing through the hilt and severing two of his fingers in the process. As the dismembered weapon and digits fell to the floor, Shen met Drake's eyes, seeing his pain and fear there, feeling it in the Force. It felt good. As his lips parted to speak, Shen stepped forward and smoothly plunged the vibrosword's blade through his breastplate and into his chest. Drake's face went white from pain. Shen twisted the blade cruelly and he shuddered, coughing up bloody saliva.
"Weak, slow and stupid, that's all you are, sergeant," Shen said quietly. She pulled the blade free, and Drake collapsed, blood leaking from the wound and his mouth. Kicking his sword away from his hand, Shen crouched and ripped the wrist comm from his arm. "Medics to the training hall. Throw this piece of trash in the tank." Shen allowed herself a moment of basking in the pain and panic radiating from Drake as he struggled to breathe through lungs filling with blood. Then she turned her back and left the training hall.
On her way back to her quarters, Shen was intercepted by a courier, who approached her nervously. "Yes?" she asked curtly.
The courier flinched slightly. "Summons, milady, from Lord Syan. He requests your presence at the Court of Justice."
"Oh?" Shen asked, curious despite herself. She could feel no duplicity in the man, just fear that she still couldn't quite believe she now inspired. "Well then I suppose we shouldn't keep him waiting. Lead the way." Shen followed the courier out of the citadel and into the adjoining administrative complex that housed the planet's high courts, where criminals were judged. As they neared the main chamber of the Court of Justice, Shen was surprised at the number of people gathered on the plaza outside. There were at least ten thousand capital residents massed around the Court, many bearing banners with angry slogans, demands for justice. All day Shen had been feeling a distant, slow wave of anger through the Force, growing as the day wore on. It was coming from these people. This close, the rage pouring from the mob was intense, the anger and desire for vengeance heady to feel. Shen was about to ask the courier what cases were being heard that brought so many people to the Court, but he ducked through a doorway into a richly decorated sitting room.
"Please wait here just a moment, milady," the courier said, then bowed and left Shen alone. Bemused, Shen examined some of the artwork in the room, enjoying the warm sensation of the collective anger radiating from the mob outside.
When Shen heard the door open behind her a few moments later, she turned smoothly – and felt her eyes widen in shock as her brother's widow, Mari, stepped into the room, eyeing her uncertainly. "Mari? What are you doing here?" Shen blurted out.
Mari's jaw dropped as recognition dawned. "Shen? Is… is that you?" Her hand covered her mouth. "Y-your face! When they said you were alive, I didn't- what happened to you? Oh, what am I saying, you're alive!" Rushing over, Mari hugged her, and after a startled moment, Shen hugged her back. "Oh, Leri and Kinn will be so happy; we've all worried about you. When can you come home?" Taking a step back, Mari took in Shen's garb and the sword in its sheath across her back. "What are you wearing, Shen? You look like a soldier, and- is that blood?"
Shen became aware of a slight dampness on her cheek, and wiped it away with her gauntlet. Blood glistened on the back of her hand where Drake had coughed on her before falling. "Oh. It's not mine, Mari. As for the armor, it's a gift from Lord Syan." Mari only looked more confused. "I can use the Force, Mari. I'm going to go to Korriban to be trained as a Sith." Extending a hand, Shen grabbed hold of a piece of fruit from a side table and pulled it to herself with the Force, catching it in her hand and extending it to her sister-in-law. Mari recoiled from the offering as though it was a live snake, and Shen was surprised to see the sudden fear on the other woman's face. Shen forced down her dismay. If she's scared of me, I know I'm succeeding. She doesn't see her husband's sister anymore. She sees a Sith.
The courier returned moments later, sparing them both from an awkward situation. Mari didn't look back as she was led away, while Shen was guided down a different hallway. Walking into the main chamber of the Court of Justice, Shen found herself behind a dais on which Lord Syan stood, addressing a packed courtroom. At a gesture from one of the functionaries, she stepped forward to stand behind and beside Syan. All the observer seats were filled, and there was standing room only. As Shen watched, Mari joined the crowd watching the proceedings. Standing below the dais were two humans, one male and one female, along with a Rodian and a Duros, all dressed in prison jumpsuits and shackles. A mixture of fear and resignation emanated from them, distinct in the Force amid the well of anger from the people watching.
"Months have passed since the crash of the freighter Steadfast just kilometers from here" Lord Syan was saying, his voice artificially amplified to fill the room and reach the people outside. "The people of the Empire are strong, and already we rebuild and the survivors move on with their lives. But we should not forget that it was not chance but the error of sentient beings that is responsible for the thousands of lives lost, and many more torn apart. The crew of the Steadfast perished with their vessel, paying for their failure with their lives. They were not the only culprits, however. The home port of the Steadfast was Nar Shaddaa, and these beings you see before you were the maintenance crew responsible for the freighter's space worthiness. They failed at their duties. Our inspection of the wreckage and documentation of the Steadfast has concluded that this accident was due to falsification of maintenance records. These beings are here to face judgment for their crimes."
Stunned by the revelation, Shen heard the angry roar of the crowd, and felt their rage wash over her. Stepping up to the edge of the dais, Shen gazed down at the mechanics, feeling her own hate roar to life. Thoughts of her mother, of her husband and the life she had lost filled her. Then Lord Syan's hand fell on her shoulder. Shen turned to see him close beside her, a resolute look on his face. "The woman you see beside me is one of the survivors of the Steadfast's crash. She lost her entire family to the negligence of these beings, and her body bears the scars of their crimes, as do many of those gathered here today. All of you are here today to see justice done, and you will not be disappointed. I sentence these beings to death. The hand that ends their lives, however, will not be mine but one of your own, one who has lost as much as any of you."
For a moment Shen hesitated. Part of her, the part that remembered being a teacher and devoting her life to caring for children, quailed at the idea of cutting down the four beings who stared up at her, filled with dread and terror. But the crowd roared in approval, and Shen's rage, a constant companion now, tore at the qualms of the person she had once been. These lazy mechanics were responsible for everything she had endured, everything she had lost!
"I can feel your hate," Syan murmured, his quiet words for her alone. "Don't deny this. You know what you want. What's holding you back is weakness, useless to a Sith. Strike them down in all your anger."
A dam broke inside Shen, and her vision filmed red as she reached over her shoulder and drew the vibrosword from its sheath, thumbing its blade to life. With a wordless roar she leapt from the dais, swinging the sword down and bisecting the cringing human man from crown to crotch with the humming blade. As the twitching halves of his body fell to the floor, Shen whirled and separated the Rodian's head from his body. A rising diagonal slash that started at the right hip and ended at the left shoulder cut the Duros in two. Then only the human woman was left, and Shen felt a snarl of frustration rise in her throat. She had killed the rest too fast, in a frenzy. They hadn't suffered enough! Dropping the sword, Shen wrapped her gauntleted hands around the woman's neck and squeezed, the Force making her strong. The woman's eyes bulged, her manacled hands clawing ineffectually as Shen's armored arms. Their faces were close enough that she could see the rictus of hatred etched onto her face reflected in the woman's frantic eyes, and part of her silently screamed in horror in the recesses of her mind, but it wasn't enough. Shen kept squeezing as the woman's face turned red, then purple. She didn't let go even when the woman's eyes rolled up in her head and she stopped fighting. She didn't let go until she felt the mechanic's death in the Force, and then she allowed the body to fall to the floor, its neck ringed with black bruises in the shape of fingers.
The silence was the first thing that registered for Shen after that. She could hear her breath, heavy in the sudden quiet. She heard someone retching. When she turned to face the people who were assembled, her fellow citizens, they recoiled, avoiding her gaze. Shen realized her boots, her armor, her hands were soaked with blood, and viscera and entrails covered the floor around her. The head of the Rodian had rolled over to near some spectators who shied away from it. Shen's eyes fell on Mari, standing in the front row, wiping vomit from her lips. Mari looked at her for a moment, stricken, then turned and fled from the room.
Their anger was gone, Shen realized. They were just shocked now; afraid of her. People began leaving, in silence, some looking back over their shoulder fearfully at the carnage Shen had created.
"Well done, if a bit messy. Still, a fine example," Lord Syan said as he stepped up beside Shen, deftly avoiding the puddles of blood and guts. "I'm proud of you." When the smell of the carnage really hit her, Shen had to fight not to vomit herself, but succeeded. In minutes, they were alone, and the doors of the hall boomed shut. "Get yourself cleaned up and then come meet me in the citadel's shuttle bay."
Shen blinked, looking at Syan in surprise. "My Lord?"
The Zabrak smiled. "I believe you're ready for Korriban. The other acolytes won't know what hit them when you get there. Now go, make yourself presentable, you'll want to make a good impression on the instructors at the academy."
Shen returned to her quarters in a daze. Mechanically, she went through the motions of visiting the refresher, then cleaning her armor and sword. Her thoughts were in turmoil. She couldn't escape thinking of the killing. Before today she had never killed anyone in her life, yet all Syan had to do was give her a reason, an excuse, and she had butchered four people in cold blood, without hesitation. Even the people who had come to see the criminals die had been shocked by her brutality. As Shen put her armor back on, she saw a stranger in the mirror. Even here, in her quarters, far away from danger, her features settled into a scowl and anger boiled in her. Not just anger at Syan anymore. She was angry at the people she had killed, and the people who had judged her for doing the killing. She was angry at Mari, for daring to look at her that way without having a clue what she had endured.
Her rage simmered as she made her way to the citadel's shuttle port. When she arrived at the main terminal, Syan was waiting for her. "This way," he said as he led her down a hallway devoid of people. A door opened at the wave of his hand, and he led Shen into a spacious, sparely furnished antechamber, one wall of which was one-way transparisteel. When Shen saw on the other side made her stop in her tracks. In the darkened room on the other side, a holovid was playing, a children's story featuring the adventures of a cloyingly cute animated animal and its friends in the woods of Corellia. Sitting in small chairs watching it were the children from the class Shen had taught before the accident. Miya was there, playing with her blonde locks absently as she giggled at something in the holovid. Pohl was there, looking bored and talking with his friends. There were a dozen other children there, all her students, their names running through her head as she looked at them, along with two of her adult colleagues, supervising the group.
"My Lord, what are they doing here?" Shen asked, dreading the answer as she sensed Syan's amusement.
"They believe that they are here to visit 'Mrs. Shen' to cheer her up during her long convalescence. The extent of your recovery is not general knowledge, although I suspect the attendees of today's trial will soon spread the good news. The actual reason for their presence is something else. Despite your impressive progress, before I send you off to Korriban, I must be sure that your desire to become an excellent Sith is paramount in your mind. They are here to help you prove yourself to me, one last time." Syan drew a standard military issue detonator from his belt and placed it on a small table between them. "This trigger will release a lethal nerve gas into that room. The doors are already sealed. You're going to push the button."
Shen recoiled in horror, backpedaling from the table and the detonator. "I can't do that. I won't."
"You can and you will. I've sensed the hate in you, the anger. You are gifted in the Force, and your rage will make you powerful. Do you want to hate me? Go ahead; it will only make you stronger. But you will either prove to me that you're willing to do whatever it takes to survive, or that you are still weak, in which case I will strike you down here and now." With those words, Syan unhooked his lightsaber from his belt and ignited it, bathing the room in a crimson glow.
In an instant, the situation crystalized in Shen's mind. Syan was a master lightsaber duelist, and her vibrosword was not enhanced with a cortosis weave. If he attacked her with his lightsaber, she would die.
"So you kill me. Then what? How long will you have to wait for another candidate? Years? Decades? How do you know that they'll be as capable as I am? You've seen me fight, my Lord. I'll represent you well."
Shen had a moment of hope when Syan paused, and deactivated his lightsaber, but then the Zabrak shook his head. "No." His hand came up, and purple arcs of lightning shot from his fingertips, slamming into Shen, throwing her back against the wall and sending her muscles into agonizing spasms, her diaphragm paralyzed so she couldn't even cry out. When her vision cleared, Syan stood over her, holding the detonator out to her. "Being Sith is about more than fighting well, acolyte. Being Sith is about survival, and seeking power. If that means killing you kill, even if those who fall to your blade don't deserve it." He dropped the detonator beside her hand, still twitching from the lightning blast. "Does hope stay your hand, acolyte? You can't save them. Even if you prove yourself a failure and choose oblivion over life, they'll still die. I'll bring them back here to test the next acolyte I train and the next after that if necessary. Nobility has no place in the makeup of a Sith." Igniting his lightsaber again, Syan placed the glowing blade centimeters from her neck. "Now make your choice." Looking back and forth between Syan and the detonator, despair blossomed within her, but it vanished just as quickly, drowned out by hate and rage and fear. All her life Shen had imagined herself as someone who would sacrifice for others, but in that moment, she faced the truth that she didn't want to die.
A snarl of hate contorted Shen's face as she picked up the detonator in unsteady fingers. A slow smile spread across Syan's face, and she hated him even more for it. Someday, I'll make you pay for this, Shen silently promised as she pressed her thumb down on the trigger. Syan backed off, and Shen got to her feet, legs moving of their own accord to stand before the window. The least I can do is watch.
Clouds of green gas erupted from the vents in the sealed room, and panic erupted. They screamed in terror, rushing for the doors, pounding on them futilely. Then the coughing started, the children and adults alike clutching at their throats, gasping and retching. Their pain and fear pounded at Shen's mind like hammer blows, and there was nothing pleasant about it. One by one they collapsed with blood leaking from their eyes as the nerve gas did its deadly work. One by one Shen felt their deaths through the Force, each one tearing at her blackened soul. Little Mari's bloodshot eyes stared sightlessly as she lay where she had fallen, her doll falling from her limp fingers. Pohl's skin had turned a pallid shade of white in death, his purple blood pooling around him. Within a minute they were all dead. Shen's vision blurred with tears. With a crunch, Shen's prosthetic hand gripped the detonator so tightly it shattered, bits of plasteel falling from her hand. Turning to Syan, she threw the crushed bits of the detonator at his feet. "Now are you satisfied?" she asked, shaking with rage, unsure if she hated Syan or herself more at that moment.
The Sith Lord smiled. "I am. You'll make a magnificent Sith. Now come. Your shuttle waits."