Prologue: I Love the Light
Author: Rochelle B/Acharya
In Game Classes: Fem!Sith Warrior (Juggernaut), Male!Sith Inquisitor (Sorcerer)
Pairings: Fem!Jugg/Malavai Quinn, Male!Sorc/Revel*
Warnings: Language, violence, blood, and all those other things that make dark side Sith dark side. *Also a healthy smidge of homosexuality, so if that is the sort of things that offends you I'd back out now, I shall think no less of you.
Notes: Takes place in the same 'world' as another story I'm crafting, centering on the republic side of the games storyline, which follows another set of siblings. Here, however, we follow the Bl'agi twins, Talaa and Alaian, as they attempt to navigate the infighting and danger that comes with climbing the Sith power ladder.
Summery: She was the strong one, powerful and burning hot. He was the smart one, wicked and cold as ice. Together they will change the face of the Empire, or die trying.
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Chapter Four
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Talaa waited as what was left of her brother's group streamed out of Overseer Harkun's office, trading looks with the man she now knew as Ffon as he strode pass. The arrogance was like a physical presence around the man and something about it set her teeth on edge. He seemed less inhabited, eyes roaming her form with obvious interest. She scoffed then, seeing Alaian coming up the passage, dismissed him from her mind.
"I have need of you." She said, infusing her words with the superiority that she supposed would come naturally if she's actually been born among the upper caste. Alaian quirked an eyebrow at her.
"Perhaps we can talk on my way to the training rooms?" She nodded and fell into step with him as they headed for the stairs. She kept her voice low, but her expression lofty.
"I have been ordered to kill Overseer Tremel by Darth Baras."
Alaian's eyes slide over to her, lips curving into a frown. "Hmm. Darth Baras is a smart man, clearly. If I understand the situation properly this result in Baras winning, no matter the outcome. Either Tremel will die, thus eliminating him as an barrier or you will die, thus destroying Tremel's plan. So simple, yet foolproof."
"You're impressed."
"I am. Brazen power plays are easy but tend to explode, as your overseer is learning. Manipulating your enemies into destroying each other while you sit, hands clean, takes more thought." Alaian turned into what Talaa assumed was the training room then stopped in his tracks, causing her to run into his back. "Case in point."
Talaa peered over her brother's shoulders, arching an eyebrow at the two men standing inside. She'd seen them around, knew they were part of the group her brother was in. They were older than she and Alaian, and their faces were pale, pockmarked, and just generally unattractive.
"Balek, Wydr. I am strangely unsurprised to see you." Alaian clasped his hands behind his back and his tone was light, but tight with fury. "Did Harkun tell you he'd...help you become Sith if you killed me? Move you back to a group where you didn't have to compete against Ffon?"
"We don't like this any more than you." The man on the right said, sincerity coloring his words.
"Now now, you really don't know whether I like this or not." Her brother's voice rose suggestively and Talaa rolled her eyes. This was hardly the time.
The other men held out a hand to stop the flow of her brother's words. "I'm sorry about this Alaian, really. I liked you, I did, but Harkun promised we could go home if we killed you."
"Pathetic." Talaa stepped from behind her brother fully, arms crossed over her chest. "They didn't even bargain to become Sith but to be allowed to go home with their tails between their legs."
"This doesn't concern you girl." The man on the left said, scowling at her. Talaa smiled.
"Surely you don't think I'll just let you try to kill my brother and not get involved." Her weapon was in hand and the excitement of impending battle was coursing through her veins.
The two men exchanged looks, unspoken words flowing between them, then lunged forward. The one of the right crashed into her, flattening her with his far superior weight. The other went for Alaian who ducked to the side then grabbed his attacker's arm, lightning already dancing between his fingers.
Talaa hit the ground, air pushed out of her body. She growled and tried to lever the man off of her, the expression the man was wearing (A mixture of lust and rage) only angering her further. She narrowed her eyes then brought her knee up between the acolyte's legs, feeling gratified as his eyes widened then went watery.
She's always thought it was poor evolutionary design for men to keep their most sensitive areas dangling on the outside, but she couldn't deny it worked in her favor. She ground her knee up and forward, putting all of her strength behind it. Alaian's shadow fell over her. He hesitated for a moment and, wincing in sympathy, shoved the man off of her.
He made short work of his would-be-assassin, shocking him until far past death. The man's mouth was leaking blood as were his ears; not a very pleasant sight. She arched an eyebrow, surprised by the overkill. While her brother took pleasure in a fight much as she did, he had never been one to...mutilate a corpse.
"You're ordered to kill an overseer and I'm playing with cowards! Am I not worthy of at least a real challenge!" He glowered darkly, the air around him shimmering with energy. "We'll have to do something with these bodies then we'll kill Tremel."
"Will we?" She poked at the dead body with her boot then sighed. "There's no other way? Tremel...I don't mind him."
"Don't get attached to anyone Talaa." Alaian's expression became grave. "Remember that, at the end of the day, they would all kill you to further themselves, even Tremel. You are just a means to an end for him."
He was right, of course. Tremel had his goal and Talaa was just how he intended to achieve that goal. If not her than perhaps he would have found someone else or gone about it in some other way but the point was still plain: it wasn't about her it was about getting what he wanted.
"Let's be rid of him then."
They dealt with the bodies quickly, Talaa employing the aid of some Acolytes she's encountered earlier. They feared her, since she'd utterly bested them in combat and then ordered them away from fighting Vemrin, and were more than happy to get into her good favor.
Phyne lingered a moment, cheeks pink then blurted "Teeno is disappointed that you've found a boy so soon, he was hoping you'd consider him. But I say you've definitely found a more attractive option."
Talaa blinked slowly, brain taking a moment to catch up, before she chuckled. "Alaian you mean?"
"He's cute. Not that I would mean to challenge you for him, of course. Just saying."
She laughed again, swallowing the urge to tell Phyne that Teeno was more up Alaian's alley, and instead clapped the girl on the back in a parody of friendship. Phyne winced but her smile stayed firmly in place. The girl scurried off after that to help the other acolytes with their body disposal and Talaa began to walk to path to Tremel's office, probably for the last time.
She wasn't going to enjoy this and already the gravity of the situation was forming a heavy weight in her stomach. The short walk felt like a mile and more than once she considered turning back but, in the end, she found herself standing before the man who had brought her to the academy, proclaiming that she'd been sent to kill him.
Tremel leaned back in his chair, a wan smile curving his lips. "Then I have been outplayed. Baras has the authority but I didn't think he would be so brazen. Either I die or he forces me to kill you. Masterfully played."
"So I've been told." Talaa said sullenly. He smiled almost kindly as he rose to his feet.
"Well, you have your orders, but I will not be making this easy for you. Know it will give me no pleasure to kill you."
She nodded tightly. "Likewise."
Tremel made the first move and was on top of her faster than she could track. He threw her into the wall and pain screamed its way up her back, clearing her mind like nothing else could. She was on her feet and going for him with fast hard attacks, channeling her anger at being manipulated into each strike. Tremel returned in kind and every time their weapons clashed he threatened to drive her to her knees.
They continued to trade blows and each time their weapons met she felt her teeth rattle from the force. Tremel struck out with his hand, catching her in the side of the head. Her vision went black for a moment and when it cleared she was only just able to knock aside a blow that seemed aimed to take her arm off. She ground her teeth together and wished the sudden ringing in her ears would stop.
He swung again and this time caught her in the shoulder, blade biting into flesh. It hurt only in a distant way, an insistent tickling under her skin, but she knew that a lack of pain meant nothing. She was injured and an injury would be her undoing. She would fall here, so close to her goal.
She was going to fail.
She screamed, fury and despair welling up in her throat and demanding an outlet. Tremel's eyes widened and then he clutched his head, staggering away from her. She closed her mouth and, never one to allow an advantage to go unused, thrust forward with her blade. It sank into Tremel's stomach easily and when she withdrew a flood of blood followed her weapon.
She put a hand to her head, drawing in fast shaky breathes. Emotions were running through her, threatening to take over, and she was drowning. She felt like she needed to sit down or else her legs would give way, but she was rooted to the spot.
"Such power." Tremel's voice was faint. He fell to his knees. "I had no idea."
That made two of them. She watched as the man slumped the rest of the way to the ground, life draining out of him to form a dark stain on the carpet. She rubbed a hand over her face again, then bent down next to the already cooling body. She needed his hand for Baras.
"Father!" Talaa cringed at the shrill voice, which seemed intent on shattering her eardrums. "Murderer!"
She stood slowly. "I liked your father and I killed him. I will not hesitate to do the same to you."
She expected a response but was rewarded with a halting croak. Curious she turned then started in surprise. Alaian was standing behind Eskella, the tip of his training saber jutting through her body, about where the girl's heart was. He shoved the human forward and she slid down the blade limply.
"I hope you don't mind." He flicked the blade, splattering the walls with red. His eyes were dark and strangely closed off. "But I thought killing Tremel would be fun enough that you wouldn't mind me taking the loud female."
She crouched back down, staying silent. She was tempted to ask where her brother had been during her fight but at the same time she appreciated being allowed to handle it on her own. She felt she...owed Tremel at least a fair battle.
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Alaian swore that if had to go spelunking through one more mouldering tomb...well, he wasn't going to do anything of course, except go through it. There weren't even any other acolytes left, aside from Ffon, to try and steal the map Lord Zash so desired from.
He smiled slightly at the thought of poor Ffon wandering through the tombs of Naga Shadow with only half of the information he needed to succeed. Hopefully the failed acolytes that inhabited the tombs wouldn't kill the other Pure-Blood; Alaian wanted that pleasure for himself. Thoughts of the look on Ffon's face when he finally struck him down lightened his mood and had him moving through the tomb with renewed vigor.
There was only one Rod left to deal with now and then he was sure he'd be all but home free. A strangely simple trial, since all he'd had to deal with were the failed acolytes and some defective droids thus far, but perhaps a more interesting challenge awaited him.
"I'll show her." An angry male voice made him stop short. It was coming from the chamber ahead of him so he made his next steps careful ones. "Baras will see, I won't just cast aside. My legacy will be secure! I shall be Sith!"
Ah, Vemrin. Alaian watched the human pace back and forth while considering the situation. The man was blocking his access to the last rob but he was willing to bet that Vemrin would make no moves to get in his way if he went after it. After all, they weren't in competition and the human was most likely indifferent to his entire existence.
Still, he was clearly plotting to ambush his sister and that wasn't the sort of thing Alaian could just let go by unpunished. But, and he couldn't just disregard this part, Talaa would probably pitch a fit if she found out that he had killed her rival.
This was quite the conundrum.
Ah well. He supposed the present he was saving for Ffon would serve here.
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Vemrin heard the attack a second before he saw the movement form the corner of his eye, a blur of black and red. He twisted away then cringed as he felt a sharp pain bloom in his side. He was surprised, having gone mostly unmolested by the wretched failures that called the tomb home, but he didn't let that work against him. He swing his blade at his attacker and the man fell back a few meters then began circling him carefully, just out of range of an attack.
"Coward!"
The Pure Blood smiled at him, a touch of recklessness in his eyes.
Vemrin kept his eyes on the man while reaching for his side. There was a small knife lodged in his side, not too deep and having failed to so much as graze anything important. It did bleed fiercely but, as Vemrin threw the knife aside, he decided that it was far from fatal.
"You should have been more silent. This is merely an annoying flesh wound."
"I suppose." The man had drawn his blade, one of the training sabers everyone received upon arrival and no match for Vemrin's warblade. He snorted then frowned, wondering at the sudden stinging pain in his side. Perhaps the wound had been deeper than he thought. Still, far from fatal.
"Well? Do you mean to fight me or not?" He demanded, not liking the way the man was watching him as if he were little more than an interesting bug.
The Pure Blood shrugged. "We can, if you think it's wise. I would think, with that K'lor'Slug venom beginning to take hold, you wouldn't want to move around too much."
"What?" Vemrin looked down at his wound again, horrified to find that it was beginning to seep green foam. "What is this?"
"It's something I was saving for someone else, a very concentrated dose of venom I collected from the Blood Fiend. Funny creature, even it's flesh burns." He lifted up his arm to show bandages, a stark white, wrapped from wrist to elbow. "I would have like to have shoved it into Ffon's spine but this is, somehow, even more satisfying than I think that would have been."
"After all," The Pure Blood frowned at him like a mother frowned at a child she was disappointed in.
"You wanted to kill my Talaa."
Vemrin growled at the name of his rival, the bitch who had stolen what he'd worked so hard to achieve. And then she didn't even had the grace to kill him herself, but to send some lackey. This wouldn't stand.
"Of course. You're doing her dirty work. What favors did she promise you? I shouldn't be surprised, she has the look of one who would spread at the promise of power." His assassin's eye twitched and Vemrin knew his words were having the desired effect. "Did she send you ahead because she's too busy under Baras?"
The man's face went blank then, with exaggerated slowness, he shrugged. "I couldn't tell you what's keeping her. But maybe you'll stay alive long enough to ask her."
With that he turned on his heel and made to walk away. Vemrin gripped the hilt of his blade, fury reaching a fever pitch. This coward meant to just walk away, to leave him here as if he weren't worthy of real combat? He refused to die in this dank tomb, poisoned and writhing in pain. He deserved more.
But...the pain in his side was growing from just a sting to what he imagined having a horde of inscets burrowing into his skin would feel like. He looked down again, dismayed to find the foam has now a murky brown, having mingled with his own blood.
When Vemrin looked back up he found his attacked was gone. He hesitated, mind screaming at him to follow. But which way? And to what end?
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Alaian whistled softly as he continued his trek. He had to admit, the tomb didn't seem nearly as bad as it had before he'd run across Vemrin. Talaa's way would be unhindered, allowing her to claim her place as Darth Baras' apprentice and he would get this map for Lord Zash and hopefully be completely done with such silly errand running. He would dare say he was feeling optimistic.
He rounded a corner then stopped, stomach dropping. He'd come into a chamber where the path become little more than a ledge he would need to carefully navigate. Beyond that there was a drop that looked like it may have been serious and, on a raised platform, a vicious looking creature. This must have been the one who was going to guide him to his goal; an ugly monster from what he could see.
He edged his way to the next chamber, finding a collection of statues that could only be supposed to hold the rods he'd gathered. He eyed them for a moment, mind flashing back to the instructions he'd gathered for placing them. Each rod had it's own statue and getting it wrong would have, most likely, dire consequence.
He placed the rods carefully then went to the raised platform in the middle. He was supposed to mediate on the force here and wait for some 'ancient power' to show him the way. He took in a breath then let it out slowly while bowing his head and closing his eyes. He cleared his head of all but the Sith Code.
"There is no peace, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength."
Something rumbled then something crashed into him with the force of a bantha, leaving him breathless. The first hit was the worst of it, but whatever it was persisted, a steady shivering pain running through his body. He shoved the pain down; it was irritating but very manageable.
"Through strength I gain power." He was more prepared for the next hit, but with a second stream of energy added to the first he found himself swaying. "Through power I gain victory."
He fell to his knees, eyes tearing. What had been manageable turned out to be close to unbearable when it was multiplies by three. His fingernails bit into the soft flesh of his palm, drawing blood. "Though victory my chains are broken."
His eyes snapped open and he saw the last statue spit the same purple lightning he wielded with such joy at him. It hit him and he slumped forwards, screaming in pain. Had he set up the rods wrong? Was he just unworthy? Not of pure enough blood perhaps, or just not strong enough to endure this, because he was sure it was going to kill him.
Alaian picked his head up, staring at the door before him which stayed resolutely closed, mocking him and his weakness. And it made him angry, a cold spreading anger the began to numb him from the inside out. He would do this! He would open this door even if he had to destroy the entire fucking tomb to do it. He would not be denied!
He pushed himself up, eyes narrowed to slits then thrust his arms forward. He would not allow this energy to kill him; instead he would make it his. He twisted it and forced it back out through his hands and into the door. He gritted his teeth and became angrier with each passing moment the door remained closed. He pushed harder, harder than he ever had, and ordered the door to fall with his mind.
It didn't do that, but it did slide open. The statues went dormant immediately but he still found himself glaring at each one in turn before descended the stairs to enter the next chamber.
"The Force shall set me free, indeed."