"Trouble seems to follow you around, Jaster." Said a voice, intruding on his tired slumber, and he swore to himself if it was his roommate, Renak the Rodian, he would saber the skinny green alien in half. Light flickered in through the slits of his eyelids as the Mandalorian squinted away the comfort of sleep. He knew that voice.
"Azekel?" He asked, still very tired as he sat up to face the Jedi Knight sitting on his Academy bunk. The man nodded, his face, though concerned, lit with a happy smile. "What do you want? It must be two in the morning!" Mereel moaned.
"Try two in the afternoon," Laughed the Knight, "you've been asleep long enough for the council to reach its decision regarding the Sith dilemma."
Mereel frowned through his drowsiness. Why the hell should he care? He'd killed two of the guys; what more did they want from a student?
"So?" He asked when Jakome didn't continue.
"So the council has been kind enough to leave the task of tracking the Sith that escaped you in the courtyard to me and my apprentice." Jakome grinned conspiratorially. That only made Jaster snort in disinterest.
"Congratulations …" He said, falling back on his pillow and closing his eyes, but the Knight didn't move, and a second later a sickening drop in the Mandalorian's stomach told him why. He propped himself up for another look at the still grinning Jedi.
"You don't have an apprentice, Azekel." He said flatly, knowing by the look he received.
"I do now, Jaster." He said, his smile widening from ear to ear, "And guess who it is?"
"Linux?" Jaster tried in desperation, and the Jedi laughed, patting his new student roughly on the shoulder.
"Congratulations, my loyal apprentice!"
"Master Jakome has taken you as an apprentice?" Lena cried, her hands clapping together in excitement, drawing stares from the other students in the Academy lunchroom. "That's terrific!" Jaster sneered cruelly.
"No, it's not! He put me in a coma!" He protested, but the girl laughed at him.
"You were the one who attacked him, as I've heard it told, and besides, he is probably the best fit for you, anyways."
"How so?" Mereel asked in disbelief, "I don't think anyone could be worse!" though he shuddered at the passing thought of being an apprentice under Master Orleans.
"He probably knows more about you than any of the other instructors around here."
Jaster only mumbled something under his breath and continued on with his meal, feeling all the more sorry for himself as he wondered what sort of trouble he and his 'Master' would get into in the days ahead. The last thing he wanted to do was tangle unnecessarily with more Sith, despite the fact that his mastery of the force had recently begun to swell to impressive proportions. For the past five or so days he'd been separated from the rest of the students and taught private classes by Jakome and Master Skywalker in defense and conservative attack with the lightsaber, as well as accelerated lessons on enhanced movement and evasions, such as acrobatics, (which Jaster showed an incredible ability for,) and disengaging maneuvers to rip himself away from holds or traps the Sith might try to use on him. Jaster besides had begun to practice a few not-so-orthodox moves in the secrecy of his chambers with his friendly and mischievous Rodian roommate, Renak Glibbs; the two had succeeded yesterday in summoning enough concentrated force power to land a fairly disarming blow to an opponent at close range; which could, if delivered with enough precision and at close enough range to the crotch or face,
The cathedral lights dimmed almost on cue as the Sith entered the broad stone hallway. His hands fidgeting nervously in his black robes, the young man looked around him apprehensively as he approached the ancient altar transformed into the Master's throne room. The Master sat complacently waiting his report, and the warrior winced inwardly at the rage his particular report would give.
"Master …" He began, but the stolid figure motioned already for him to stop.
"You disobeyed me, impatient youth." He hissed in disgust, "I told you not to trifle with the Jedi, only to observe their training Academy. Instead you have lost two valuable warriors and enlightened the enemy to our existence. They will follow you here."
"But Master I, we thought that the two in the courtyard would be easy kills; that we could remain undetected and instill fear into the proud Jedi there!" The warrior protested; his voice full of fear and subservience.
"And?" The Master's tone destroyed what hope he had maintained for his argument.
"… and we were wrong, your Excellency. One of those we took for students was a mentoring teacher of the Jedi. We were unprepared for the voracity and skill he showed in combat."
"Yes, and two of you were lost, killed for your ignorant actions; but it was no Jedi who struck your comrades down in the courtyard, but a mere student, by the name of Jaster Mereel. A recent troublesome Jedi apprentice of Mandalorian descent, he claims to be the last."
"A … a student? But Master, he wore a helmet, his face was …"
"And what style helmet was that?" Barked the Master hatefully.
"I, I do not know, my lord, his costume could very well have been a variant of Mandalorian designs, but why would a Mandalore study under the Jedi who wiped out his people so long ago?" The warrior flustered, then a sudden realization gripped him, and he asked, "How does my master know all this?" That elicited a thin smile.
"Your master has his sources inside the Jedi Academy; ones no one knows of but himself, and, now, you. However, my young apprentice warrior, you have of late proven yourself untrustworthy of even following explicit orders. What shall a Master do to such a treacherous and untrustworthy rat?"
He stood, and the warrior sunk in his shadow, barely gasping out a faint protest as the walls of his throat closed in unnaturally, and his feet were lifted from the ground by the Master's hateful power. Bones cracked and crunched momentarily, and the warrior went limp as the Master let him drop, lifeless and in a heap, to the stone floor.
Perhaps, the Sith Lord thought, it was time to step his plan up from useless recon missions about the Jedi Academy; perhaps it was time to let the Jedi know just how powerful the Sith had become in their waiting. He snapped his fingers absently and two of his apprentices appeared, saw their dead companion, and shared a look of cold concern.
"Master?" They asked simultaneously.
"Clean this worthless creature up, and summon my chief student." The Sith Master ordered emotionlessly as the two Sith got to work; the first lifting the corpse from the floor and the second practically running off down the cathedral-like hallway to summon the Master's pride and joy apprentice, Darth Naal, the first of the students he had taken under his instruction after his parting of ways with the weak Jedi Academy of the pitiful and emotion-led Skywalker. Naal was before him in a moment, his thin, cruel face gazing forth reverently to his master for his orders.
"How go the experiments in the caverns, my apprentice?" the Master asked, turning and walking towards his throne again, his student falling into step with him.
"The subjects are weak, my Lord; many have died, but some have proven accepting of the force-infusion process."
"How many have you for me?"
"Twenty, my Lord, but they are still weak, and slow to learn." Naal answered, "They will need more time before they are ready for combat with a true Jedi."
The Master turned to face his student in front of his throne, his shadowed features obviously frowned in deep thought.
"How many students do you have who are ready?" He asked. Naal thought for a moment before replying;
"Not many, my Lord; perhaps ten I would trust to defeat a Jedi in combat, three more students of Darth Tiriak would serve us very well, also." The Sith Lord thought some more briefly, and then asked the question Naal had feared would come.
"How far has the prodigal captive come in his solitude?"
"He is very weak, but the force is very strong in him, nonetheless." Naal answered evasively, "We were fortunate to find him, but he is a rebel, nonetheless, and his natural force abilities have aided his resolve against us. He knows not of his sensitivity, but his solitude in the caverns have weakened his mind." The Master nodded silently, then made his decision.
"Conduct the infusion process in three day's time, then, once he has reached his potential, bring him to me and we shall begin planning the opening strike." Naal had his reservations about the 'prodigal captive,' but he nodded to his Master's authority.
"Yes, my Lord."