A/N Hey everyone, sorry for the delay on this chapter. I wasn't sure where to go with this one, then had surgery and have been feeling like crap for a while now. Big thanks to LadyAshenGrey, to whom most of the credit for this chapter goes. I mostly ended up going with my own ideas, but her suggestions were helpful, and being able to talk through some of my struggles making a compelling plot line out of Korriban was absolutely invaluable. So once more, here we go!

Chapter 53: Korriban

Carth stood over Kyrena's comatose body and couldn't help but wince at all the restraints tying her down. Nobody really believed they could stop Revan if she woke up and went on the rampage, but it was better than nothing. It was just . . . this whole situation was so messed up. It was absolutely wrong that they had Kyrena tied up, the woman who'd faced down impossible odds with him, who'd risked everything to go above and beyond in the service of the Republic, not to mention saving his life more than once. And yet . . . this wasn't even close to enough to deal with Revan. To deal with her he wouldn't be satisfied with anything short of freezing her in carbonite. It was just . . . it would be so much easier if he could be sure which one she was, which one he was dealing with here. Splitting the difference just wasn't going to cut it. Was she the woman he knew, or the stranger? A trusted ally, or a hated enemy?

These days, it was getting pretty hard to tell which was which.

The Hawk's warning sounded from the cockpit. He sighed and turned away to jog forward. He weaved his way through the rest of the crew and settled into the pilot's chair. The timer ticked down quickly and he took a deep breath. The lines of glowing white shrank back into individual stars.

Space was empty around them, and he breathed out again. He looked over to the long-range sensors and frowned. "That's a pretty over-sized picket force holding the planet. Sliding past them is going to be a little trickier than I'd hoped."

Juhani didn't look away from the empty field of stars as she spoke calmly. "Can you do it?"

He nodded. "It's going to take a while, but yeah."

Carth calculated their course very carefully. Then he double and triple checked it, and ran it through the navicomputer's simulations. He even had T3 run them. And then he committed them to a slow drifting course and shut down everything. The navicomputer, the engines, most of the auxiliary power, and as much of the life support as he thought they could get away with. And then they waited.

They dressed warmly (Mission wrapped Kyrena in a blanket), rubbing their hands against the cold as their breath fogged in front of them. They watched anxiously through the cockpit viewport as they slowly drifted within a few million kilometers of a Sith capital ship, a tiny speck in the distance. And then, over ninety hours later, they hit orbit with just enough velocity, at just the right angle, to ease into atmosphere.

Carth sat tensely in the cockpit once more, hands on the controls, but not yet . . . not yet.

The Hawk dropped quickly, starting to tumble, and he was glad he'd had everyone strap in. The gravities started to build as they fell faster, their rotation accelerating. Still too high . . . come on, come on . . . His eyes were glued to the altimeter and he grimaced as he was shoved harder and harder into the side of the pilot's chair.

Wait . . . wait . . . and . . . now!

He jammed the repulsorlifts to max and fired the maneuvering jets. The Hawk fought him, wallowing under the weight of the planet's gravity, struggling with the atmosphere that battered her. Carth held firm on the controls, jaw clenched, riding the wild turbulence, and the Hawk rallied, responding to his call. The descent slowed, she steadied, and then she was flying instead of falling.

And none too soon. He wrenched the stick to the left and the engines roared as they flashed past a mountain. He slowed quickly, deploying the air flaps and he grunted as he was thrown forward against the restraints. Come on . . . come on . . . there! He circled a small clearing once, looking it over with the scanners and his eyes alike. The ship descended the last twenty meters slowly, reddish dust flying everywhere under the wash of the repulsorlifts and maneuvering jets.

And then, at long last, they set down on the tomb world of Korriban.


Jolee watched with concerned eyes as Juhani prepared to disembark. She was a good kid, really. Despite her blank, almost prickly exterior, she desperately wanted to do the right thing, to show how committed she was to the Light Side. That wasn't what concerned him. No, it wasn't her heart that was the problem, it was her transparency. That need for confirmation could easily turn into a leash to lead her astray, especially in a viper's nest like the Sith Academy. And yet, as much as he wished to do something, to intervene, he could only think of his own youth, of what effect the Masters' attempts at intervention for him had had. No, this was her choice, her life. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Be careful, young one."

She looked up at him, her face blank, emotions firmly under control.

Jolee sighed. "Just . . . remember your teachings. And may the Force be with you."

Juhani stared at him for a moment longer, then turned without a word and walked down the boarding ramp into the dust.


By the time Juhani reached the outskirts of the Dresdae, ten kilometers from the Ebon Hawk, her sweat-slicked fur was coated with dust from head to toe, and itching where it chafed beneath her clothes. If she were allowed to hate things, she would hate this hot, dry, and dirty place.

She approached the main entrance, mentally rehearsing her cover story. To her surprise, however, the Sith guards at the entrance didn't challenge her, or even speak to her. They just glanced down at her lightsaber, nodded respectfully, and proceeded to ignore her. Well then. Perhaps, just this once, the Mandalorian was right after all.

On to the next step then: get a room somewhere and take a long shower.


Carth woke up from his nap abruptly, confused, and reaching for his blasters before his mind caught back up with his situation again. He was on the Hawk. Still, something had woken him . . . what was it? Quiet, that's what it was. Too quiet.

Though he knew better, he still checked in first on Kyrena . . . on Revan. She was still out cold. At first she'd been watched over like a hawk by her pet assassin droid, but the crew had decided pretty much immediately that was a terrible idea. It had been quite the scuffle, but in the end Kyrena's standing orders not to hurt or kill the crew had been their vital edge, and the machine had been half-disassembled and locked up in the supply closet.

Well, nothing wrong here. He moved on, but the rest of the ship seemed to be empty. "Mission? Jolee, Juhani? Canderous? Is anyone here?"

Only silence greeted him, and he grabbed made a quick double check of his blasters, checked the scanners to pinpoint their wandering lifesigns, and headed out into the desert to figure out what the heck was going on.


Derik Morliue sneered as yet another band of Republic prisoners were herded through the Academy entrance and on down the corridor towards the holding pens. The Republic was all talk these days. We'll keep you safe, stay loyal and strong, the light will always win, blah blah blah. Pathetic. When the Sith had shown up at his planet, they hadn't bored them with trite nonsense. It was straight to the point, an open promise and ultimatum in one. Join us, or be destroyed. They'd given their word. Then the Republic had promised to protect them.

He'd seen the writing on the wall, and he was on the last ship out of atmosphere before the assault began on the planet, and it had all become clear as he watched his homeworld burn.

It was simple. The Sith kept their word. The Republic did not.

"Apprentice Derik, you're up. Let's see how you do against Apprentice Brakis." Master Uthar smiled coldly, sure he would fail against this challenge. They thought because he'd come from the Republic he would be weak, too. He stood tall and pulled the practice saber from his back, and stepped forward into the ring. He would prove Master Uthar wrong. He'd prove them all wrong. I am strong!


Master Uthar sat down to dinner with Yuthara Ban at the usual time of evening in the master's room that overlooked the academy grounds and a breathtaking view of sunset over the dead world. He was tired of dealing with all these hopefuls, the pathetic, virtually Forceless fools that took up most of his time, and so he dispensed with the usual pretexts and cut straight to the chase. "Yuthura, I believe I have found a suitable candidate for our next round at the academy. Force knows there are enough disposables to make the ascension believable enough. Are we ready for a new round?"

The twi'lek paused before responding, and the master instantly prepared himself to fight.

"Of course, master, we are prepared for the next round. Shall I begin preparations?"

Uthar didn't let his guard down. Yuthura was talented, certainly, and good with the students, but she was also ambitious. "Do so."

They ate in silence, neither taking their eyes off the other.


Mission sat in the shade of a low hill, probably filled with dead Sith or something just as horrible, and kicked irritably at the dust. It puffed up in a low cloud, getting all over her clothes, and she coughed miserably. I hate this place. Ever since they'd landed she'd felt terrible. Tired, depressed, angry, all of it. And the worst of it was that she couldn't stop thinking about Kyrena, tied up and alone. Was she really Revan? Like, the Revan? That was . . . it was too big to wrap her head around. Revan was one of those people you saw in the news, or in the holos, or something. She wasn't a person, you know? She wasn't real. She was a force of nature, and amazing and terrifying things happened to her, and around her, but that was always far away and somewhere else. And the Kyrena she knew wasn't anything like the Revan she'd heard about.

Only . . . she was kinda scary when she got mad. But she'd only ever done that to help her, even to protect her and Zaalbar and, you know, the good guys. But . . . was that enough to turn you into someone as horrible as Darth Revan? And if it was . . . well,. She'd been pretty angry herself before, too. Maybe she couldn't, like, blow up a planet or something, but what would happen if she got that messed up, too?

She sighed and kicked the dirt again. Her thoughts were going in circles, which only made it more frustrating. She wished Zaalbar was here. But then, she was also glad he was far away, not having to deal with all of this, and not having to figure out what to do about Revan. She was still Kyrena to him, and that made her feel better for a second. But only for a second.

"Look, you can come out now, okay? Stop hiding back there pretending you're super sneaky. It's annoying."

Jolee stepped around the side of the hill he'd been hiding behind for the last twenty minutes. The old man had been shadowing her ever since she'd decided to take a walk. It was sweet, in a creepy, old-man kind of way, but she did have to hand it to him—he was patient. He hadn't given himself away even once, and if she hadn't caught a glimpse of him as he headed down the Hawk's loading ramp, she might not have noticed he was there at all.

He shuffled forward and plopped down heavily beside her, kicking up another cloud of dust, while sighing like he was just a tired old man. Of course, he'd just successfully stalker her in almost total silence for the last hour through hard terrain, which kind of messed up the image.

"Did you find what you were looking for out here?"

She looked away. "No. Just dust and old bones."

He nodded in that wise way he had and looked up at the gray sky. "that seems to be what I find most places, too. Sometimes the answer is further down the road."

For once, his wacky sayings struck her as stupid instead of quaint. "Come on, that doesn't actually mean anything. Just keep moving forward, one step in front of the other, har har har, it's all crap. You keep looking to the future and the present walks up behind you and yanks on your lekku."

Jolee didn't move, but rolled an eye over to look at her. He didn't seem offended, but then, you could never tell with those Jedi types. Except Kyrena of course . . . usually. "Of course they don't mean anything. They're not trying to explain life, not really. All of them, they share a simple message, that's all."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah? And what's this secret, ancient wisdom?"

Jolee smiled sadly. "The only message that matters. That there's still something worth living for out there, somewhere. Sometimes we just have to keep on living until we can find it again."


"Ah, I see, I see. Another Jedi come to small Korriban, yes? Good to meet you."

Juhani, feeling much refreshed after a good night's sleep and an extravagantly long shower, stood before the entrance to the heart of the settlement. She blinked, taken off-guard at being so instantly recognized, even after having traded her brown robe in for a gray one. "Jedi . . . do they come here often?" she asked, surprised.

The twi'lek at the gate nodded thoughtfully. "There are many people who come to Korriban from throughout Sith space hoping to join the Academy. Some of them are Jedi who have left the Order." He nodded at her knowingly. "You will get into the Academy for certain. I understand Jedi who have left the Light Side are made very welcome."

That was an off-putting thought. For all her training, she hadn't really considered what she would do if she met a fallen Jedi here. What if someone recognized her? And yet, for all the danger she had assumed would chase her if she were discovered, perhaps that wasn't the true danger. The danger was in the Sith discovering who she was . . . and in slowly turning her into something else. Yes, she would be cautious. The danger here was more subtle than she had feared.

She nodded to the guard as he bowed her into the primary settlement building, but it didn't take long for the quite of the little conclave to be broken by shouting up ahead. She kept her hand tight on the lightsaber (perhaps uselessly) hidden beneath her robes and pressed on.

"No, that is the wrong answer, again! You pathetic hopefuls can't possible all be this stupid, can you?" A human, male, was shouting at a handful of others that cowered before him.

"Please, Master Shardan," begged another human. "Give us another chance! We'll do anything to get into the Academy!"

The Sith paused, clearly mollified as he towered over the others in his gray uniform. "I'm no master . . . yet. But I do like the sound of it. Alright, I'll give you one more chance, though the lot of you are trying my patience." He sighed, looked to the skies for patience, and spoke again with forced deliberateness. "Let's say that you become a Sith, and I am your commanding officer. I give you an order to spare an enemy. Do you do it?"

Juhani kept her distance, browsing through the collections of hopeful-looking merchants, though she hadn't the slightest interest dewback pelts.

A twi'lek answered quickly, her voice sultry. "Of, of course Shardan, anything you command us!"

"Yes," piped up the human again, "we would never oppose you!"

The Sith threw up his hands in frustration. "No, no no! Ugh, do you honestly believe that the Sith are in need of such sniveling cowards? Mercy is a weakness. If your leader shows weakness, it is your duty to kill him and show true authority, true power. That is why the Sith are strong!"

Juhani couldn't help but think of Revan. There had been plenty of times the Sith had seen fit to show mercy, only to have that very mercy be the thing that destroyed them in the end. If some fool thought that they could kill Revan, they would have tried to do it, sparing the Republic from all the damage Revan's mercy had wrought on them, from all the starports spared and then co-opted, all the systems bolstered which went on to provide armies of new recruits.

The human was backing away slowly. "Thank you, Master Shardan, we . . . we understand now."

Well, he clearly understood that this wasn't working and he was liable to be killed. Juhani felt torn, filled on the one hand with her need to intervene, to follow the Jedi code and protect the weak from being prayed upon. Yet, at the same time, these fools had brought it upon themselves. They had deliberately sought out the Sith in an attempt to gain strength, to exercise power over others. If they had been strong, they would have been the ones doing the abusing, and the code would have directed her to fight them instead. But that . . . it felt wrong, somehow. Was power truly the dividing line in the Jedi Code? Should she protect those who would murder others if only they could, but cannot because they were born helpless? She stood, paralyzed, while the shopkeeper stared at her suspiciously.

"No, you don't understand, and you probably never will. You wouldn't last five seconds in the Academy, the other students would tear you apart. Bah, I can't be bothered with you fools. Perhaps I should . . ." he paused, looking around vaguely, and Juhani gave in to the temptation and glanced over her shoulder at the scene. The Sith's eyes homed in on hers, and he pointed directly at her. "Ah, you, Jedi!"

The shopkeeper's eyes grew huge and he froze, too scared to even breath. Juhani blinked. She'd never had that reaction to her calling in life before.

She turned slowly, her blade ready to come out of her robe in an instant. "I believe you are looking for someone else."

The Sith, Shardan she thought they'd called him, rolled his eyes. "I can sense the Force in you, more than this sad lot put together, and you're not a Sith yet, which means you're yet another Jedi wandering in, probably telling yourself that you're here to spy on the enemy or another of the useless lies you tell yourselves. You know why you're here. These hopefuls here will never survive in the Academy. A lesson must be taught here, but I am at a loss as to what form it should take. Any suggestions?"

He watched her closely, weighing her, judging.

Juhani thought about it carefully. To her surprise, she rather agreed with him. These people, these . . . hopefuls, they had been fools to come. Fools seeking power was always a dangerous thing, and any Jedi would agree that they needed to be . . . dissuaded from this path before they got too far down it.

"I'm thinking to spare them the effort of being killed and do it myself." Juhani flinched, and he smiled. "Ah, but it wouldn't do to push you into a moment of decision too soon now, would it? No, Master Uthar would not thank me for that. Perhaps something not quite lethal, say, turning their skin inside out? Or force lightning, yes, it's a most impressive display. Or perhaps a bit of humiliation is in order. I could easily strip off their tunics and make them run through the colony. Or they could lose control of their bodily functions . . . what do you think? I just can't seem to decide."

It was a test, clearly. A Jedi would tell him to let them go. But then, would they actually learn from that experience? Would they go on to cause others more pain? And what of what that would say about her, following the Jedi Code strictly even while here ostensibly to join the Sith? She wasn't sure what to do, so she played for time. "Why? What did they do?"

"Please," wailed the twi'lek," we didn't do anything! Help us!"

And they wanted to become Sith? To wield the Force to harm others? No, no, be calm, Juhani. Perhaps they seek power because they feel so helpless, that their lives are not their own. Yes, perhaps that's it. And she had seen that. She had. Only . . . usually it was the ones who wanted to do something with power that sought it.

"Silence!" Shardan shot a glare at the hopefuls that instantly shut them up. His voice went from almost enraged to reasonable, from upbraiding an upstart inferior to calmly discussing with an equal, in a word. "It's not so much what they did as what they didn't do, which is prove themselves worthy. I'm exhausted dealing with their mewlings, so please decide for me, will you?"

"Perhaps just . . . scare them a little, so they will not trouble us or others again."

Shardan sighed with theatrical disappointment, but did not bother to mask a small smile. "Compromising already, excellent." He turned and raised his hands dramatically. The hopefuls broke and ran with a scream or two thrown in. Shardan simply stood there laughing, and the surrounding shopkeepers and passersby laughed, some of them from genuine humor, some of them simply to appease the Sith. She wondered how many fell into each party.

"Well the, Jedi, I guess I'll be seeing you around at the Academy one way or another. Until we meet again." He bowed mockingly and strode off deeper into the Dreshdae."

She followed after him, keeping tabs on him through the Force to follow at a discrete distance he probably wouldn't notice. Her best bet was that he was heading towards the Academy, and it sounded as if that was where she needed to go. The information on the star map would undoubtedly be there, and if her identity as a Jedi wasn't going to lead to outright fighting, then perhaps it was best to move directly and get through this as quickly as possible. This place . . . she felt strange here, different.

She didn't like it.

Unfortunately, it seemed she stood out from the crowd. She hadn't realized just how easy it was for the Sith to sense her in the Force. "Look here my dear friends, we have a newcomer to the colony, a Jedi no less! I don't believe I've seen the alien before, have you?"

Three more sith, two human males clearly led by a human female, stood blocking her path.

A male responded with a groan. "I hate Jedi, and these fallen ones are worse. They always get into the Academy, and they think they're better than the rest of us."

They always get into the academy? Perhaps . . . it would be dangerous, but if that was the fastest way, then maybe . . ."

"Well stranger," continued the woman with fiercely tied back blonde hair, "I don't know if you're aware of this or not, but here on Korriban the Sith do as they please, and we are Sith. Quite literally whether you live or die depends on our whim. What do you think of that?"

Juhani felt her hackles rise to be challenged so directly. This place . . . the tension, and yes, the fear, combined with this tense atmosphere were doing her already short temper no favors. She did not know these humans, but she knew the Sith. The only thing they respected was strength. "I think that's a lot of responsibility for thugs like you. It is a good thing you travel in a pack to take on individuals."

Stupid, stupid! Do not provoke them, they cannot afford to back down, and you do not want to draw attention!

The human shook her head, amused. "How precocious. I think it tried to make a joke, don't you?"

The male grimaced. "I didn't think it was funny."

"Neither did I. A brave face, perhaps, but I'm more interested in being amused at the moment, I think. What do you say? Make us laugh, and we might consider allowing you to live."

"I'm not looking for trouble, but I'm not here for you amusement." She stared at the human woman, wondering if she would have to kill her in the next few seconds.

"Oh, look here, this one doesn't seem to be afraid of you at all Lashowe!"

The woman glared at her companion. "Shut up, fool, unless you want to be next!"

"Yeah? Any time."

The third human finally spoke up. "Stop it, both of you, this is boring. Let's just go back to the Academy."

The two Sith stared each other down for another few seconds before the male looked away. The woman, Lashowe, turned back to Juhani with a glare. As for you, I'll find you later. Trust on me on that. Come on, let's go." And they were gone.

Juhani slowly eased her grip on her blade, took a steadying breath, and traveled on. Perhaps this wouldn't be as simple as the first Sith had made her hope. This time, she reached out with her senses actively, not trying to hide, and managed to steer clear of any other Sith before she reached the exited the settlement and saw in the distance what must have been the Academy. It was an imposing structure that seemed to rise out of the cliff face and sand, approachable on foot only through a narrow corridor of shaky footing. She didn't make it far before a Sith guard stepped in front of her.

She paused as much in surprise as anything else—the soldiers thus far had tried to draw as little attention to themselves as possible. "You there, halt! You are neither a Sith, nor do you bear the medallion of a student of this facility. Please, leave at once."

"What is this medallion you speak of?"

The guard paused a moment, trying to figure out whether to take her request seriously. After a hesitation he decided to play it safe. "It is the device given to one that has been accepted into the academy, but has not yet proved their worth as a student. If one of the Sith decides you are worthy, you will be given one, which you must then take to Yuthura Ban. And before you ask, I believe she is in the local cantina. It is she who decides which hopefuls may enter the Academy."

Juhani nodded to the guard and spun on a heel, heading back into Dreshdae.


Yuthura Ban paused over her datapad. She felt something, a presence she had not sensed in . . . some time. Could it be? Was there a Jedi here, now, on Korriban? This could be precisely what she had been waiting for. She sat back slowly, thinking it through carefully, deliberately. She would only have one chance at this, and she needed to be sure. But yes . . . yes . . . yes, she could think of no better circumstances for this. The time was now. She was Sith, she was strong, and she would make the play as well as it could be made.

She shut down the datapad without sending out the official invite to begin the next round of trials, and instead picked up her jacket and headed down to the cantina. One way or another, whatever her attentions, the Jedi would wind up there eventually.


Yuthura hid a smile as the cathar walked in. Yes, that was most definitely her, stronger in the Force than any of the hopefuls that constantly hung around. She was worth enough to start a training cycle for, certainly. It was a simple practice, established even before Revan, but it worked.

Sith, true Sith, were rare, just as rare and as precious as true Jedi. That might not always seem right considering the raw number of Jedi out there, but the vast majority of them were weak, almost helpless, stalling out at Padawan or just barely scraping by into Knight. They were the workhorse of the Jedi, getting most of the real work done and making the Jedi's presence felt throughout the galaxy. They were effective because, behind them, stood a small but solid core of Knights and Masters that held some real power. When the Jedi ambassador's position was called, they were the ones that the Jedi sent in to straighten things out.

It was a silent brotherhood within the larger Jedi, yet for all that it's presence was unofficial, their influence was very much felt, their words listened to more carefully. Revan had been assimilated quickly into their ranks, which gave her much more influence, and much more quickly, than her official rank could ever produce.

When she'd made the Sith, however, her goal hadn't been to rule over the galaxy, it had been to conquer it. Those weaker members, they were useless on the battlefield, and thus when Revan had set up the Academy here on Korriban she had found another use for them. A closely guarded secret known only to a handful at the Academy at any given time, each training cycle was designed to produce one true Sith. Nobody could afford to throw away those with genuine talent, and even the Sith recognized that sometimes you had to make mistakes, even stupid mistakes, to learn and grow, so what they'd done was ensure that no cycle ever held more than one real candidate. The competition was real enough, and more than a few had washed out, but by filling out the ranks with only marginally force sensitive competitors, it made the newcomers feel like they were really struggling for their own success, that they were self-made, and it gave them far more self-confidence and determination to succeed than their Jedi counterparts.

Overall the system had worked out well for them, producing a new candidate roughly every six weeks, depending on how quickly they accrued new talent. For a while, they'd been running two pools side-by-side, but the number of solid candidates these days were far lower than that.

Yet, for all of that, rules were meant to be broken, and this wandering Jedi might be just her ticket to do it.

Yuthura leaned up against the bar, forcing her lekku to sit calmly whiel sipping her favorite non-alcoholic drink. She wanted her head to be clear for these little first-encounter meetings that were so important for getting a feel for potential Sith. Hmm, she wasn't trying to hide, which was unusual. Was she brave? Brash? Or just practical enough to have realized how pointless that was in a settlement as small and packed with force sensitives as this one?

She watched the cathar from the corner of her eye as the Jedi scanned the room. Clearly she recognized her own force sensitivity. A pause, hesitation. Gathering herself? The suble setting of the shoulders, committing, then moving forward steadily, ears back. Intimidated, perhaps even afraid, but committed to her course. So, not here on her own initiative looking to join the Sith.

Yuthura suppressed a sigh. Another Jedi spy? Really? You'd think they would have learned that lesson by now, after the last half-dozen had all turned on them. If they'd bothered to think about it, maybe it would have occurred to them that being a Jedi was mostly about maintaining the proper state of mind, and that being a spy was all about changing your state of mind.

Well, each Jedi they converted was one they didn't have to kill down the road somewhere.

The cathar sat down next to her, and Yuthura looked up innocently. "Can I help you?" There was no sense making it too easy, now, was there?

The Jedi floundered, uncertain of how to move forward. Willing to be pushed along, willing to lie by omission, but uncomfortable when forced to be proactive in deception and deceit. That, and awkward with interpersonal skills without a firm hierarchy and protocol to guide them. Classic Jedi spy.

"Um, hello. Who are you?"

"Who am I? You must not have been on Korriban for very long. That, or you've been feeling your way about blindly." The cathar blinked, and Yuthura decided to take mercy on the helplessly out of her depth Jedi. "I am Yuthura Ban, second only to Master Uthar of the Sith Academy here on Korriban. I am the one who decides which of the many hopefuls who travel here to train actually become a Sith. The real question is, who are you, Jedi? Is it your desire to enter the Academy?"

Establish that she was the one to talk to, the woman with the information they were after. Be offputting, not too approachable, but courteous enough to seem easier to work with than the stereotypical evil idea of the Sith that all Jedi seemed to share, and the hook was baited and set.

"So you know what I am?" A statement more than a question. She'd already suspected this much. Probably she'd run into other Sith potentials then, who'd all had it drilled into their thick skulls what the policy on ex-Jedi was.

She rolled her eyes, allowing a look of mild annoyance to creep onto her face. Turn the body slightly away, back towards the drink, show them you're losing interest. "You are far from the first Jedi to come here, after all, willing to abandon that decrepit Order of yours. That is what you are here for, is it not? Or are you just wasting my time?"

The cathar hesitated for a second more, then nodded. "Yes. Yes, that is why I am here."

She turned back to the woman, looking at her properly for the first time. Jedi. So eager to please. To be fair, that unwillingness to upset their Masters tended to be a much better survival mechanism than the new recruits used to getting their way tended to realize. She was strong in the Force, probably a Padawan, though with as strapped as they were for manpower these days she might have been pushed to Knight already. Then, to seal the deal with emphasis on just how special they were . . . It took a stronger individual than most, especially those used to thinking of themselves as special thanks to their Force sensitivity, to recognize that they weren't all that different, that the galaxy didn't revolve around them.

"Ah, so you're just another hopeful after all." She narrowed her eyes. "Or . . . are you? There's something . . . odd about you that I can't place." Pretty average, actually, aside from her species. Not many cathar have the patience for the Jedi. "Obviously you are a Jedi, one who is very strong in the Force." Decently strong, but not outstanding by any means. "So were you a part of the Order for very long? Did they train you?"

Always a winning question. Those who had been felt like their skill, their supposed expertise was recognized. Those that had not been felt like it reflected well on their raw Force potential, as if training had anything to do with raw power.

"What difference does it make?"

Still cautious, even after that invitation. Commendably wary, though still letting her get away with it. She'd won, she just needed to pound it home a little harder so the Jedi saw it as clearly as she did.

"Perhaps none, perhaps all the difference in the world. Either way, you possess enough raw power to intrigue me greatly. With that kind of power you could become a great Sith . . . perhaps. If I let you. Does that interest you?"

Remind them you're the enemy, that you don't care about them, so they remember that it's okay to lie to you."

The cathar sighed, a dead giveaway of her lack of enthusiasm, which would normally disqualify any candidate right off the bat, though she couldn't know that, of course. And the rules were a little different for Jedi.

Then she seemed to remember herself and nodded firmly. "Yes, that does interest me. I would like to become . . . stronger."

Sithspit, they were really scraping the bottom of the barrel here, weren't they? Still, she was powerful enough to suit her purposes. "Ah good, exactly the sort of answer I was hoping for. I will take you to the Academy and we shall see if you are ready to join the ranks of the Sith. Let us be on our way immediately, there is no time to waste."

Still . . . the girl needed to be taught a lesson. She wouldn't last long in the Academy at this rate; she needed to step up her game if she were going to be useful. "Don't worry about your possessions, of which I doubt you have many. All you need is the lightsaber you carry so carefully beneath that brand new cloak of yours you purchased three blocks away, where you discarded your Jedi robe in the trash at the very same store."

The Jedi flushed appreciably at being so directly called out.

"Now then, shall we be on our way?"


Master Uthar was worried. Yuthura was up to something, and he didn't know what it was. She'd done as he'd commanded . . . eventually. The newest training cycle was starting up, the instructions had been sent out, but she'd disappeared for nearly two hours before she'd done it, and Yuthura was not one to allow freedom of movement behind your back.

Yet the time was here, the students were here milling about in the great hall's ampitheater, and though she had yet to make her appearance, it was time to begin. He looked out over the flock of sops, taking care not to let his gaze linger on the true candidate at the back. "Greetings, prospective students."

Of course, that was the moment Yuthura decided to make her entrance with a newcomer. Another sacrificial lamb? His eyes narrowed. No, this one was something more. The Force power was significant, but it was more than that. The cautious entry, eyes moving quickly while the face remained impassive, the way she stood a step back and a half-step to the side of Yuthura, like an apprentice letting a Master lead the way . . . she was a Jedi, or had been, and was worth saving. She wasn't eager which meant she was a spy, though it was a difference in time only. What was Yuthura up to? Pitting two candidates against each other was a waste, they both knew that.

Still, this was the time or place for that conversation, which of course was why she'd made her move now. He forced the frown from his face and replaced it with a smile. "Ah, it appears we have a late entry. Who do you bring before me, Yuthura? A young cathar, bristling with the Force?"

"She is Juhani, a young cathar that has had some training, it seems, Master Uthar. Very promising, I think."

Precisely. That was the problem.

One of the sacrifices, Lashowe, spoke up showing more courage than sense. "I met this one in the colony. Unworthy, if you ask me."

Uthar allowed some iron to show in his voice, though his tone remained polite. "That I'll judge for myself, thank you." Idiot girl. Trust an ignorant, untrained neophyte's word at Force potential? If she couldn't see her own lack of it, then she had no right to speak at all. Worse, she sought to keep away a potential candidate, which would harm the Sith. He reminded himself he needed her alive for the moment and turned his attention back to Yuthura and her pet Jedi. She was an unknown, but perhaps if he could tell if she had been prepared for some specific role . . .

"Tell me, Juhani was it? What do you know of the ways of the Sith? What preconceptions has your mind been polluted with?"

The Jedi hesitated, eyes still moving, ready to be attacked. Showing weakness, fear, uncertainty. "I know that the Sith are powerful, a force to be reckoned with."

Please. "A . . . diplomatic answer, if not the core of the matter." He gestured vaguely around him, taking in the Academy and all of Korriban with a wave of his hand. "Our power is obvious. The question in truth goes much deeper than the surface. The Jedi equate the light with goodness and strength, and the dark with weakness and evil, and it is no surprise that they cling to it for comfort. We, however, do not treat the Force as a burden, we treat it as a gift, a thing to be celebrated."

The Jedi did not show anger or disgust, which was a surprise. Perhaps there was more there than met the eye. Was she more experienced than she seemed, or had she perhaps dabbled in the Dark Side before? That wasn't very unusual, but they generally heard about those candidates before they arrived.

He pressed on, looking over all the candidates. He couldn't overlook them completely. Every once in a while the candidate failed and they had to have a firm grasp on the alternate, but he had a good feeling that wouldn't be a concern . . . not this year. "We use our the Force to acquire over others, and why should we not? Because the Jedi say we should not?" Let Yuthura know I'm quite well aware of what you brought him, thank you very much. "We are as the Force is meant to be. The Jedi would hide that from you. They would tell you the Dark Side is too quick, too easy, all so that they need never challenge the passions that lie within them. Joining us means realizing your true potential. It means not stifling yourself solely for the sake of hide-bound shamans and their antiquated notions of order. Be as you were meant to be. What say you, Lashowe? Are you ready to learn the secrets of the Dark Side? Dare you?"

The idiot girl stood forth with boldness. "I dare, Master Uthar. I am ready."

Hardly. But do your job, Uthar, sell it, if only for the candidate's benefit. "Brash and fiery, as expected. Turn that passion to your advantage, child."

He turned away from her to the next, a surly human just barely out of the teenage years and with a pronounced sadistic streak. Predictable and controlled by his urges. "What of you, Mekel?"

The boy looked up at him with fire in his eyes, challenging him. "I am, Master. More than ready."

At least he was smart enough not to challenge him openly. That had happened before, and it hurt the candidate in the end when one of their stepping stones had to be squashed before the game had even begun. "I sense much anger you, young one. That is good. That will provide you power." Yes, there is anger there, but sadly not much else.

"And Shardan, what of you?" Another human male, not quite as young as Mekel.

"I am always ready."

Uthar frowned at his detached, almost vacant stare. "I see. You had best gather your wits for the trial ahead, boy, or you will not last long." The boy was a sociopath which made him think he was evil and thus a natural fit for the Sith. Fool. While a total lack of empathy could be useful, he didn't even try to understand others, which made it a fatal weakness. If you could not understand others, you could not manipulate them, couldn't use them, couldn't beat them.

"And you, Mikaeda?"

"I . . . I will do my best, Master."

Uthar fought the urge to wince. Mikaeda was the plant, set to search for those with a tendency towards kindness or protectiveness. Some sentients felt a natural tendency towards it, especially for twi'leks for some reason, which was why Mikaeda was here, lekku nervously twitching. They were never used when the candidate was an ex-Jedi, as keeping them alive gave the Jedi a noble purpose that was distracting to their conversion. They needed a solid pool of competitors to push them, to make them see that there was no higher purpose to serve, so they might as well serve their own. Of course Yuthura would bring in a Jedi when they were using a mercy plant.

Still, it was best not to underestimate them. Yuthura had been brought in as a plant years ago, and when the human candidate had finished off the rest of the candidates and stood between her and the instructors, she'd knifed him in the back and replaced him. It turned out the master who'd found her had been using her, and she'd hidden her power to get out from under his thumb, even if it was to be cast off as a disposable plant in the trials. She'd killed that master six years later. Which means you need to pay attention to what her game is now—she knows how to hold a grudge.

This twi'lek didn't seem like much, though. Obviously she was smarter than she looked, as she actually understood what her role was, but she was overplaying it. It was hard to beg while watching others calculatingly. That, and her attention was directed more to his candidate instead of the Jedi newcomer, who it was most likely to work on.

"And you, Jane?"

The human woman at the back looked up briefly, almost bored. He'd only just found her, but already he was convinced she was going to be successful. Powerful, but self-aware. She kept herself wrapped up in a cloak and wearing a mask, relying on the cheap trick of being mysterious. A mark against her, definitely, probably only due to lack of experience. He'd forced her to come out of her disguise when she'd first arrived and scrutinized her carefully. She was a normal human being, nothing particularly special or different about her from any other human, other than her Force sensitivity, of course.

"Ready." She looked down again.

It could have sounded arrogant or distant, but it didn't. It was focus raised to a brutal efficiency, not even words wasted. Yes, she will do well.

At last he turned to the Jedi. "And you, young cathar? Does this interest you? Are you ready to learn more of what I speak?"

"Yes, M-Master." A stumble on utilizing the honorific falsely. Well, it was clear Yuthura hadn't spent any time on her; she truly was as newly arrived as she seemed. The twi'lek was far too competent to let something this unpolished be used as an aimed weapon. Unless . . . that was her plan, to make her appear unpolished to get past his scrutinizing? Hmmm . . . wheels within wheels with her. Still, he couldn't afford to let that pathetic an answer go unchallenged, not after the example he'd set with the others.

"Are you, truly? I can see into your heart, young cathar, and I see the dark kernel that is there." She looked up sharply at that. Ah, so she had been a dabbler. Of course he said that with every candidate, just to see if they reacted. "If it is ready to sprout, however, remains to be seen."

He turned back to the group at large. "Now then, all six of you recruits have shown a degree of facility with the Force. You all have the potential to be true Sith." The first of many lies, young ones. Get used to it. "Only one of you may succeed, however. The one who succeeds will be admitted to the academy as a true Sith. All others must wait unitl next year and try again, if you survive. My pupil, Yuthura, will be your teacher and master while you attempt to prove yourselves. He her words."

He nodded to the purple twi'lek, ceding the floor to her and moving to the side where he could watch her very carefully indeed.

Yuthura stepped forward confidently, nodding respectfully to him. "As Master Uthar said, none of you are true Sith yet. For that to occur, one of you must do enough of worth, must gain enough prestige, to be selected. What is an act of worth? You must find that for yourselves. Remember that you are competitors here. Fight for your destiny, or go home."

Uthar broke in smoothly. "If you wish to gain a lead over your competitors, the first to learn the Code of the Sith and tell me of it will be rewarded. The rest is for you to discover. Welcome to the Dark Side, my children. Your one chance at true greatness lies here."

And that was that. The competition had officially started. And while it sounded dramatic, at the end of the day, and however brutal it was, this was still a school, and they had to go over some of the administrative matters such as housing, meal time and availability, where they could and could not go, and the ground rules. At the end of the day, and as all but the thickest quickly learned, there was only one rule.

Don't get caught.

And as the students filed away, already sizing each other up for their little competition, he kept his eyes on their twi'lek teacher. Let the games begin.