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Chapter Twenty-Two
Aithne woke late the next mood, and in a foul temper. She shrugged on her black armor again, and equipped her meanest double vibrosword. She ate breakfast alone, thinking things over. She would have to take Carth with her once she had been admitted to the Sith Academy, but the fighting she might do to get in she had promised to Canderous. She wanted Jolee with her, today and in the Academy. She didn't honestly know if Juhani could pretend to be evil without actually becoming evil, and she trusted Jolee to alert her if she started exhibiting such behavior herself. But on Korriban, she wanted another Force-wielder with her.
She finished her breakfast, threw her tray in the washer and stomped to the med bay. "Ready to go, old man?" she asked tightly, forcing a smile. He was, oddly enough, dressed in civilian clothes.
"I'm more ready than you are," he muttered into his beard. Aithne bit her lip, but didn't reply.
"Canderous," she barked as they passed into the workroom. Canderous pulled out his big gun. Aithne nodded.
"Let's go see if we can find Master Yuthura," she said.
The three made their way to the cantina, and sure enough, sitting in a chair near the back of the establishment, garbed in a simple Sith workday uniform, was a tall, determined-looking purple Twi'lek with extensive and elaborate tattoos. Aithne walked right over and sat at the woman's table. The woman's eyebrows shot up, and Aithne couldn't tell if she was more angry or amused or impressed.
"Is there something you need, human?" she asked, and amusement seemed to have won out. "Make it good, for I have little patience."
Canderous and Jolee pulled over a couple chairs and sat behind Aithne. "You're Yuthura Ban," Aithne said. It was not a question.
"I am," replied Yuthura. "Obviously you have been told of me. Is it your desire, then, to train at the Academy? Do you wish to become a Sith, human?"
Aithne looked levelly at the Sith. "I might. Right now, I'd just like to know what's up with this Academy. The name's Addison Bettler. I was on a smuggling run, and wound up here. I like to keep up with what's happening in the galaxy, and the Sith seem to be the next big thing, if you know what I mean. So, I want to know about the Sith. You seem to be the one to talk to, from all I hear. What can you tell me?"
Yuthura smiled leisurely. "We wield ultimate power, my friend," she said, her voice low and passionate. "To be a Sith is to taste freedom and to know victory. Nothing is as glorious as bending the Force to your will."
Aithne felt her heart rate pick up a bit at the words. She swallowed. "Glory? I find it hard to see the glory in the many bodies of dead hopefuls I've seen since my arrival yesterday. More of a mess, really." She kept the words hard and casual by sheer force of will.
Yuthura scowled. "We make no apologies for the weak," she snapped. "If you cannot clench your fist and know when the moment comes to strike, there is no place for you amongst us. Of those who come to train, those who are weak return home. If they are both weak and foolish, they die…but it was their choice to come."
Aithne had to acknowledge the truth of that, even if it was a bit harsh. The original fault lay in the hopeful, though that did not absolve the Sith of their murders. "What say you of the Jedi?" she asked, switching tacks. The plan was to get Yuthura invested in her even before asking to train at the Academy. The Sith Master was still talking to her, so Aithne guessed that it was working.
Yuthura sneered. "Hide-bound relics who burden themselves with tradition and with the protection of the weak and ungrateful. They are pitiful and misguided. Why would you take a gift as glorious as the Force and squander it? Weaken yourself deliberately and shackle yourself to outdated mores? Our gift has made us superior. It is our rightful place to rule. How can any deny that? Yet the Jedi do so…and call us 'evil' because we do not."
Aithne had to disagree that the Jedi burdened themselves with the protection of the weak. Far more often, she found fault with the Jedi for refusing or delaying to help those who could not help themselves. But the second half of Yuthura's answer interested her. "You don't consider yourself evil?" she asked.
Yuthura smiled. "Is the sarkath beast who dominates his jungle evil? The tuk'ata who leaps on the squellbug for the kill? These are things of nature, of the universe. We are no different from this. The Force is part of the universe, part of the same laws. We were gifted to set us above the rest…to deny nature is foolish."
Aithne found herself somewhat fascinated with Yuthura's eloquence. The Twi'lek woman was better with words than Canderous. She was reasonable, passionate, persuasive. But still, Aithne disagreed with the fundamental principles behind her reasoning. Ruthlessness and predator-prey relationships were indeed part of nature. But sentience came with a certain responsibility to rise above that primal mindset. In order for people to live together, there had to be some order, some protection for the weak.
"Don't you serve the Dark Side, though?" was all she said to Yuthura.
"It is the Jedi who serve the Force," Yuthura corrected firmly. "Trying to discern its wishes like frightened old men staring at the stars. The Force serves us. We shape it to our will. We are its master. The Jedi deny their darkness, but we revel in it, we allow it to fuel our strength."
In other words, yes, you serve the Dark Side, Aithne thought, unimpressed. It controls you, and you ignore the Light Side just as foolishly as the Jedi ignore the Dark. "Where does Darth Malak fit into all this?" she asked.
"You know the name?" asked Yuthura, impressed. Aithne hid a smile. Know the name? I'm on his personal hit list, lady. "Malak is the strongest of us," she explained, "and the strongest always rules…" she smiled nastily. "At least until one who is stronger can take it from him."
Aithne smiled here, too, picturing taking Malak down a peg or two. Yuthura narrowed her eyes, and Aithne realized that the emotion was inappropriate at the moment. "That is our way," Yuthura finished. "Survival of the fittest. You are always on guard, always lean for the kill. We promote it, for through this the Sith are stronger."
Aithne nodded, forcing a considering expression upon her face, and steeling herself for her next words. "I see…about joining you?"
Yuthura laughed. "You've heard enough, have you? So what is it to be? Are you here to be a Sith or not?"
Keeping her face perfectly flat, Aithne answered. "Yes, I'll join the Sith." Like she was not at all uncertain of acceptance. Like she was doing Yuthura a favor.
Yuthura's eyes went distant for a moment, as she probed Aithne with the Force. Aithne left her Force sensitivity for the woman to see, left her aura, but cloaked her emotions and the bundle of feelings that was her Force signature, so to speak.
"Are you just another hopeful, then?" Yuthura asked after a moment. "I think not. There is something odd about you that I cannot place…I sense that you are very strong in the Force…You have already honed some of your Force abilities, Addison. Jedi training, is it?" and her voice was layered with suspicion.
Aithne crossed her arms and leaned back lazily. "Some old man taught me a few tricks a couple planets back," she said, sounding as bored as possible, every inch the jaded smuggler. "Very informal, and eventually I got tired of his muttering and left."
Yuthura bought it. "As I thought," she said, confused. "How interesting that they would let one with such power out of their grasp. Or are you here to spy on us?" she suddenly said, laughing a little. "For all the good it would do. With that kind of power, you could become a great Sith. Does that interest you?" she purred.
"Yes," Aithne said firmly. But somehow, the simple word triggered Yuthura's suspicions. Perhaps it was not said as eagerly as some of the hopefuls she interviewed. Perhaps there had been a suspicious lack of detail in Aithne's mind, and now the lack of detail in her reasoning for joining just made Aithne too much of a risk. But Yuthura shook her head at last.
"I see," she said. "Somehow, however, I am unconvinced. No, my friend, I'll not be the one to bring you into our Academy. If one of the other Sith accepts you and gives you a medallion, then perhaps. But otherwise…not today. Run along now." She waved an imperious hand at Aithne, and the woman rose, trailed by her companions, and left.
"Now what?" grunted Canderous.
Aithne grinned, not pleasantly. She was even more annoyed than she'd been this morning after Yuthura's rejection. But Canderous would enjoy this next part.
"Now, Ordo, we pick a fight with some Sith."
They had not long to wait. Soon a young group of Sith, fresh off from a training session, showed up. The five of them had only recently been admitted to the Academy, and had just started learning to use the Force. Now they were intent on abusing their powers to make someone suffer, just as they themselves had suffered as hopefuls.
"You can leave or die," Aithne said, after the Sith had taunted her suitably. Of course, the Sith couldn't reasonably turn down a fight with a woman who looked like a mere civilian, and Canderous got his first fight in weeks.
It was sadly short. The young Sith were overconfident, and Jolee was able to take them by surprise with Force attacks while Aithne cut them down with her vibroblade, only using Force powers when it would be difficult for observers to tell that she was using them. Canderous was downright gleeful as he fired off his big gun again and again, blowing holes in the leader of the little group of bullies.
At the end of the fight, Aithne looked down at the sad bloody mess with distaste. "Search the bodies," she instructed Canderous in a dead voice. Canderous did so, coming up with a medallion. Aithne polished the medallion on her shirt sleeve, which fortunately had little blood on it. "Sorry," she told the dead bullies. "But you know how it is. It's fight or leave here. And I don't exactly have the luxury of leaving."
She turned to Canderous. "Thanks for your help, Ordo. I need you to go to the Hawk and get Onasi, if you would. Tell him to come to the cantina. Jolee, Carth, and I are going to try to get into the Academy again."
Canderous nodded, turned, and left the scene. "Let's start heading to the cantina," Aithne said. "Carth ought to catch up later."
Jolee and Aithne headed through Dreshdae towards the cantina again.
"When you become a Sith, you can feel the power coursing through you!" An elated male voice came through the hall. A man's scream rang out. Aithne whirled and ran towards the sound.
A man stood there in the doorway of a shop, Force Lightning emanating from his fingers into the body of another man. A Twi'lek woman stood there, hands to her mouth, horrified at the sight.
"Hey!" Aithne shouted out.
"Help me, please help me! He's going to kill me!" the Twi'lek woman cried out.
The man rounded on Aithne. "Can I help you?" he asked nastily. The tortured man the Sith had been shooting Lightning into slumped to the floor, dead.
"You- you can't just kill people because you feel like it!" Aithne yelled. "What- what is this?"
The man laughed in her face. "The Sith can do whatever they want!" he declared.
Aithne suddenly felt cold. Anger coursed through her like a river of molten lava, but she felt cold. "I am sick and tired of hearing that," she said softly. "And I'm not going to let you kill that woman."
"You're not going to let me?" the Sith asked, incredulous. "Maybe I'll just deal with you first!"
That was it. Aithne's hands shot out, and the man flew into a wall fifteen feet away. He slid down the wall. He looked up at her, dazed and confused. Aithne reached out with the Force then and shot her own Lightning into the sadistic Sith. He screamed.
"Addison," Jolee said quietly. Aithne shook her head. She was seeing red.
"Hmmm," she said to the Sith in a controlled voice. "You know, having this kind of power- it's kind of intoxicating now that you mention it. In fact, I'm enjoying this so much, I think I might try the hot-blooded murder side of things, too. I mean, you enjoyed it, didn't you, scum?" she asked, shooting another round of Lightning into the man. "You enjoyed torturing that civilian to death. Didn't you?"
Another round of Lightning. The man screamed.
"Aithne!" came a voice from behind her. A shot rang out then, and the Sith collapsed to the floor, dead, a single blaster wound through his brain.
Aithne turned. Carth strode up. "Canderous told me you were on your way to the cantina. Aithne, what the hell was that?"
"I'm Addison out here, Carth," Aithne said in a low voice, still quivering with rage.
"And Addison tortures people to death?" Carth demanded, but he kept his voice low.
Aithne looked at the body of the man the Sith had killed, nonplussed. "He- he'd just done the same," she said weakly. "He was going to do it again."
"And normally you would have just sliced him open with your vibroblade and left it at that, not prolonged it!" Carth said angrily. "What's going on? Look, I know we have to get inside the Sith Academy. But don't become one of them. Be yourself, Aithne. Not them."
Aithne looked at the body of the sadistic Sith that Carth had killed, with that single bolt, and she began to tremble. She felt the residue electricity in her fingers, felt the sickening black rage within herself. "Force," she whispered. Her knees buckled, and a wave of nausea rose in her stomach. She staggered over to a corner, and vomited. She managed to step away from the pool of sick a few paces before she collapsed to her knees, sobbing hysterically.
Jolee edged away nervously. Carth stepped forward. He grabbed her hands roughly, and pulled her up into his arms. "Hush," he said. "It's okay. You won't do it again. It's okay."
Aithne shook. "That's the second time," she wailed. "That's the second time, Carth. It's always there, down inside, just waiting for the opportunity! I'll never be free of it! And oh, they deserve it, they deserve it, but what kind of person am I?" She wasn't making any sense, but Carth understood her somehow. He stiffened. Aithne looked up at him through bleary eyes, and for the first time, saw a hint of the fears there that plagued her all the time. She sobbed again. He got it. He knew what she was. How long would he stay, knowing? Then he wrapped his arms more tightly around her, drawing her closer to his chest, but he was still tense. He kissed her hair, but Aithne could feel him looking at the body of the Sith behind them, still faintly smoking.
Still, eventually she quieted, and she wiped her eyes, furious at her display of weakness. Jolee stepped back out.
"It'll be alright, lass," he said, patting her shoulder awkwardly. "We all of us make mistakes. We have to move on."
Aithne nodded. "Right. We have to move on." She shot a look at Carth, and he nodded, but he wasn't looking at her. She ignored the pang it sent through her. "Let's go meet back up with Yuthura," she said.
By the time Aithne reached the cantina, she was mistress of herself once again, and fully back in the persona of smuggler Addison Bettler. Luckily, Yuthura was still stationed at her table at the back. When Aithne walked up, she curled a lip.
"You again? What do you wish now?"
Aithne pulled out the Sith medallion from her pocket, twirling it in front of Yuthura. "Well, you see, I picked up this medallion hereabouts. Thought you might want to take a look at it."
"Picked it up, did you?" asked Yuthura wryly, taking in the flecks of blood on Aithne and Jolee's clothing. "Impressive. You are lucky, Addison Bettler, for I am in a forgiving mood. I will take you to the Academy and we shall see if you are ready to join the ranks of the Sith. I have only one other question." Her eyes darted to Carth and Jolee, checking briefly to see Carth standing behind Aithne in the place of Canderous. "These companions of yours? They will not be coming with you, I presume?"
"Your presumption would be incorrect," Aithne said coolly. "They are slaves. You needn't worry about them."
Carth raised his eyebrows slightly. Yuthura smirked.
"My hearing's not so good," mumbled Jolee. "I'm just pleased my nice master doesn't beat me so much anymore, yes ma'am."
Yuthura's expression clouded over for a moment. Aithne held her breath, very glad that Jolee had seen fit to change into civilian clothes today. She'd wondered…it was still risky, bringing him and calling him a slave. "There is…something odd about this servant of yours," Yuthura said. But whatever she had been probing for, she found nothing, for her expression cleared, and she said, "No matter. Make sure they don't disturb your training or cause trouble. You are responsible for them. Now…are you ready to go to the Academy?"
Aithne nodded. "Might as well," she shrugged.
Yuthura smiled at Aithne's seeming lack of enthusiasm. "Then let us leave," she said, rising from her seat and striding forward with a fluid grace. "The Master of the Academy awaits you."
With Yuthura Ban leading, Aithne had no trouble gaining access to the Sith Academy. She was immediately struck by the differences between the Sith Academy and the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine. On Dantooine, there had been much that was grand, and lots of vegetation. The Academy was all metal and concrete, with no vegetation or ornamentation to be seen. It was a building of pure utility, harsh even. Lightsabers hummed through the walls, and you could hear the odd scream ring out through the hallways.
What a cheery place, thought Aithne. Yuthura led Aithne straight to the center of the Academy, where some sort of assembly seemed to be taking place. Aithne picked out Lashowe, Shaardan, and Mekel in the small crowd that was gathered around a tall, tattooed man with yellow eyes.
"Greetings, prospective students," he was saying. He suddenly caught sight of Yuthura and Aithne, and stopped what he'd been saying. "Ah. It appears we have a late entry," he said instead. "Who do you bring before me, Yuthura? A young human, bristling with the Force?"
Yuthura bowed. "A human that has had some training, it seems, Master Uthar. Very promising, I think."
Lashowe took in Aithne and Jolee, and sneered. "I met this one in the colony the other day," she spoke up. "Unworthy, if you ask me."
"Um, Lashowe?" Aithne said. "No one did."
Uthar laughed, and Lashowe fumed. "I'll judge that for myself, thank you," Uthar told them both. "Tell me, human, what do you know of the ways of the Sith? What preconceptions has your mind been polluted with?"
Aithne groaned inwardly. She could already tell he was going to be as long-winded as Master Zhar at his finest. But she put on her tough face and answered. "Honestly? I've killed too many Sith to still have any preconceptions."
Uthar raised a tattooed brow. "Most impressive," he said. "If it is true. Those who were too weak to stand against you deserved their fate, so expect no retribution from us. There is much you can learn from the Sith, and we from you. The Jedi equate the Light with goodness and strength and the Dark with weakness and evil. That is their tradition and it is truly no surprise that they cling to it for comfort. We, however, do not treat the Force as a burden." And now he was addressing the entire group again. "We treat it as a gift, a thing to be celebrated. We use it to acquire power over others…and why should we not? Because the Jedi say we should not? We are as the Force is meant to be. The Jedi would hide that form 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."
Aithne disagreed. Hiding your passions was very difficult, and very dangerous. The Jedi didn't want to leave the passions unchallenged; they wanted to pretend they didn't exist. The Sith didn't challenge their passions either, as far as Aithne could tell. They were ruled by them.
Uthar continued. "Joining with 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 what you were meant to be."
Well, Uthar, you've done a splendid job of telling us what the Sith are not, thought Aithne. Would it be too terribly hard to tell us what they are?
"What say you, Lashowe?" he was asking. "Are you ready to learn the secrets of the Dark Side? Dare you?"
Lashowe's face glowed with passion. "I dare, Master Uthar!" she exclaimed. "I am ready!"
"Brash and fiery, as expected," Uthar chuckled. "Turn that passion to your advantage, child. What of you, Mekel? Are you ready?"
"I am Master," the brutal young man replied. "More than ready."
"I sense much anger within you, young one," Master Uthar told him. "That is good. That will provide you power. And Shaardan…what of you?"
"I am always ready!" Shaardan declared.
But Uthar seemed dissatisfied with Shaardan for some reason. "I see," he said, arms crossed. "You had best gather your wits for the trial ahead, boy, or you will not last." He looked at the next young man in line, a slender, quiet looking young man. He opened his mouth, then looked past the young man. Aithne assumed the young man must be Kel Algwinn. Seemed Uthar didn't think Kel was Sith material any more than Aithne's friends Thaddeus and Leni had. He moved on to Aithne. "And you, young human? Does this interest you? Are you ready to learn more of what I speak?"
Aithne straightened, looking Master Uthar straight in the eye. "The name's Addison Bettler, Master Uthar," she declared proudly. "I'm ready."
Uthar looked a bit skeptical. "Are you?" he asked quietly. "I can see into your heart, Addison Bettler, and I see the dark kernel that is there. If it is ready to sprout remains to be seen." He turned to the others, leaving Aithne troubled. Jolee moved up a fraction of an inch, but Aithne felt his presence, and was comforted.
"Now then," said Master Uthar. "All of you Sith recruits have shown a degree of facility with the Force. You all have the potential to become true Sith. Only one of you, however, will succeed. The one who succeeds will be admitted to the Academy as a full Sith. All others must wait until next year and try again...if you survive. My pupil, Yuthura, shall be your teacher and master while you attempt to prove yourselves. Heed her words."
Yuthura stepped forward. "As Master Uthar said," she spoke up clearly. "None of you are a true Sith yet. For that to occur, one of you must do enough of worth…gain enough prestige…to be selected. What is an act of worth? You must learn that for yourselves. Remember that you are competitors here. Fight for your destiny, or go home."
Aithne observed her competitors. Their reactions would tell her how she was to approach them, and how she could eventually beat them. Kel looked down. Mekel and Lashowe looked frankly delighted. Shaardan looked serious.
"If you wish to gain a lead over your competitors," Master Uthar said, "the first of you 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."
Aithne and her 'slaves' were escorted to a student's room. A single bed and a locker were the only things contained in the small, barren space. Aithne pulled out her com link.
"Addison to the Ebon Hawk," she said, lest anyone be listening. "Come in, Ebon Hawk."
Canderous picked up the link. "This is Canderous." It had been prearranged that all communication between Aithne and the Hawk would be through Canderous only, the sole other crew member she had been seen with around Dreshdae.
"Canderous, we're in. I don't know what the plan is exactly. I'll ask around and see if I can find my bearings. It may take a while. The competition looks tough."
She used neutral language, but she and the others had worked out beforehand this message. She was telling the Hawk that she was going to look around for the Star Map, and that even if she was gone for several days, they were not to worry.
"Got it," Canderous said. "I'll tell the others. Over and out."
Carth was already pulling out the blanket he'd packed up that morning and making up a pallet on the floor. Jolee was doing the same.
Aithne blushed. "Ok, but tomorrow one of you gets the bed."
"Oh, I'd better," said Jolee, grinning.
Aithne woke late enough the next morning, and, after sending Jolee and Carth out into the hall, dressed in the Sith uniform she'd been provided with. She hated the look and feel of the thing. So she left her hair mostly down in a concentrated effort to appear less like a Sith soldier.
She walked out to join the others. Carth inadvertently curled his lip when he caught sight of her. "Chill, flyboy," Aithne told him under her breath. "It's just the uniform."
"Keep it that way," he murmured back to her. Aithne stepped back, feeling like she'd been slapped. But then she nodded. The three of them set off towards the mess someone had pointed out the day before, but the door to the room immediately next to Aithne's swung open, and Yuthura Ban stepped out.
"Ah, if it isn't my favorite prospect for the year," she greeted Aithne.
"You were waiting for me," Aithne said.
"I was. I engineered for you to be placed in the room next to mine, as well."
"Why?" Aithne demanded.
"By my estimation, you are far more likely to achieve the prestige necessary to become a Sith than any of the others," Yuthura confided. "Mekel's a brute. Shaardan's an idiot. Lashowe's too trusting, and Kel too timid. You, you seem both bold and intelligent. I have an opportunity for you. Of the once-in-a-lifetime variety, if you want to hear it."
Aithne was intrigued. "Alright. Shoot."
Yuthura revealed that, in the grand Sith tradition, she was ready to take down her master. She'd been plotting for months, and had decided that one of the student trials would be the best place for a confrontation, as it was one of the only times Master Uthar was even close to alone. At Aithne's trial, for Yuthura was confident that Aithne would be the one selected for trial, Uthar, Yuthura, and Aithne would go alone to the tomb of Naga Sadow.
"Why the tomb of Naga Sadow?" Aithne asked.
"Oh, five years back Revan discovered some Star Map or other there," Yuthura said off-handedly. "It's tradition. The only time anyone goes to that tomb is at the trials."
"You don't say?" Jolee said. "Well the master loves tombs, don't you Master?"
Yuthura looked askance at Jolee. Aithne glared, sending him a silent message to remember his role. "Anyway, the important thing is that you and I will be alone with him," Yuthura went on. She needed an ally to take down Uthar. She'd chosen Aithne. The plan was for her to help Aithne gain the prestige needed to win the competition. At the trial, Aithne would help Yuthura strike down Uthar, and then take her place as Yuthura's own apprentice.
"At least, until I strike you down. In that grand, noble Sith tradition," Aithne only half-joked.
Yuthura's smile was darkly amused, but it had teeth in it. "Well, yes. If you can."
Aithne thought for a moment. She needed an in to that tomb, and Uthar probably deserved to die. She might go ahead and kill Yuthura, too, she reasoned, and do the galaxy a favor.
Finally, she nodded. "I'll do it," she said, shaking the woman's slender hand. Yuthura smiled.
"Good. I'm so glad you see it my way. Now, is there anything I can do for you?"
"There is the matter of how to get prestige," Aithne reminded her.
"The first and easiest way would be to recite the Code of the Sith for Uthar. Would you like to hear it?"
Aithne nodded an affirmative. Yuthura began.
"Peace is a lie; there is only passion."
That's as false as saying there is no emotion, thought Aithne angrily. What are they teaching these kids?
"Through passion, I gain strength,"
Surprised, Aithne realized that she didn't actually dispute that. Love, anger, hatred, compassion, gratitude, they all gave the person in possession of them a strength of character to do things that, unarmed with these passions, they would be incapable of.
"Through strength, I gain power,"
Yes, but the corollary was that through passion, one gained power, and Aithne did dispute that. Just as often as passion helped to accomplish things, it rendered the passionate incapable of performance. Passion brought powerlessness as often as it brought power. Besides, there were many, many other ways of gaining power than through strength alone.
"Through power, I gain victory,"
Sometimes victory is sheer dumb luck, though.
"Through victory, my chains are broken,"
If the victory sought was the release of the chains, Aithne imagined so. But if by simply winning, the Sith imagined all their problems would disappear, they were just plain wrong. Victory and power brought a whole host of new problems, from all Aithne had observed, without actually doing anything to add to the happiness of the victor.
"The Force shall free me." Yuthura finished solemnly, bowing her head. Aithne asked her a few questions, of course, without buying it an iota more than the Jedi Code, and maybe even less.
Yuthura went on to tell Aithne of a few renegade students Uthar had ordered executed that she could track down and murder for him for prestige points. She mentioned a rogue assassin droid needed to be destroyed. Finally, she said that Aithne could always pose to help a fellow student and betray them at the last minute to eliminate the competition and nab their prestige. If Aithne were to do this, Yuthura believed the ideal victim would be Lashowe.
Throughout the speech, Aithne grew more and more curious about the Twi'lek. What made a person so practically evil? "Tell me about yourself," she said as Yuthura concluded her advice.
"Me?" Yuthura sounded surprised, and almost shy. "Well, I'm originally from Sleheyron, if you must know."
Aithne grimaced. A pit of a world, that. Worse than Taris, and controlled by the Hutts. She remembered going there once. The memory was not fond. She asked for details. Yuthura explained that she'd been a slave to a crime lord. "The Hutts control everything on Sleheyron, and a slave is nothing to them. I was determined not to be nothing." Her face contorted in remembered anger. She told how she'd been left alone with the Hutt one night. She told how she had stabbed him to death with a knife she'd stolen, and jumped on a ship that ran out of fuel in the middle of nowhere. And then she stopped.
There was much that Aithne could understand about Yuthura now. Strong, hurt, and resourceful, it was no surprise that the angry slave girl had turned into the cruel Sith master before her. But Aithne had the feeling that Yuthura had not always been this way. So she continued to prod the woman.
"How did you become a Sith?"
"I…" Yuthura trailed off. "I would prefer not to discuss that." Her face was astonishingly vulnerable. Aithne suddenly felt she could like this woman, and like her well, Sith or no. And it became incredibly important to hear what she had to say.
"I'd really like to know," she said softly.
Yuthura stiffened. "Why?" she demanded, suspicious. "There is no point. Have I asked you about your past?"
"You can," Aithne replied. "I'll answer," And I'll tell the truth, too, at least up until a couple of months ago, she thought privately. "Maybe I'm a nosy busybody, but I just thought we could become friends."
Yuthura's face softened. For a moment she looked like she might actually cry. "You…you have very odd notions for someone hoping to become a Sith," she said. "Let's see, after escaping from Sleheyron I was found by the Jedi. They took me in and trained me, even though I was a bit older than most Padawans."
Aithne checked. "You were a Jedi?"
Yuthura shook her head. "Not really, no." She explained. "I never progressed beyond Padawan. I had discipline, but no peace…and after my treatment at the hands of the Hutts there was little room in me for the ways of the Jedi."
"You…you sound very much like…someone I used to know," Jolee said softly, an odd emotion in his voice Aithne had never heard before.
Yuthura laughed a little, embarrassed. Luckily, she was too emotional to take note of Jolee's second interjection. Aithne caught it, though, and resolved to speak with him later. "Yes, well…I imagine I am not unique. Things could have very easily been very different for me. I wanted to use the Force to free the other slaves I knew, to fight for what I knew was right. The Jedi restrained me until I couldn't stand it anymore. They claim the Dark Side is evil, but that isn't so. Sometimes anger and hatred are deserved and right. Sometimes things change because of it."
Aithne regarded the Twi'lek woman, realizing abruptly that she was in trouble. She wouldn't be able to kill Yuthura. The Sith master wasn't evil. Or she hadn't been. Even now, she was simply hurt and misguided. But…but how could Aithne help Yuthura without tipping her off that she wasn't at the Sith Academy to learn the Dark Side?
"I agree with you," Aithne said carefully. "But have things changed for you?"
Yuthura thought. "No," she admitted, "Not yet. But my anger has not diminished, nor my desire to see change. The more time I spend with the Sith the more I am certain that one day I will be able to fight as I must. I know this may sound strange, but only my compassion stands in my way, now. Once that is gone let the slavers beware!"
Aithne bit her lip. "Yuthura," she said uneasily. "If you lose your compassion, do you think you'll still care about those slaves?"
Yuthura looked troubled. "I…yes, of course!" She looked away. "I mean losing my compassion as in…holding back." But she didn't sound too terribly convinced. "Enough of that," she said at last. "I've talked about myself too much, surely you are tired of it."
"I'm not, but if you wish to discuss it again sometime, we can do that. I'll let you alone, for now. Goodbye, Yuthura."
Yuthura shook Aithne's hand warmly. "Come back soon, Addison, my friend."
Aithne and the others finally made it to the mess. Aithne ate her midday meal in silence, thinking hard. At the end of the meal, she rose, and led the way to the center of the Academy, where Master Uthar was meditating.
She tapped him on the shoulder. He rose immediately, drawing his lightsaber in a single movement and whirling on her. Aithne didn't flinch. "Um, Uthar? Yeah, Yuthura wants me to help her kill you at the final trial."
Master Uthar deactivated his lightsaber. He recovered remarkably quickly. "Addison Bettler. Greetings. I see. It is good that you have come to me with this information," he said, brow lined with thought. "It is a bit…ironic…that Yuthura has begun her plotting. I have been aware of her growing ambitions for some time, and had in fact already decided to remove her. Normally, the one who gains the most prestige would engage in a final trial...two of the students would fight. This time it will be Yuthura who battles, though she does not know it. Perhaps it will be you who combats her?" He looked hard at Aithne."Yes…perhaps so. This is what you can do. Give this pad to Adrenas…he will put some poison in her bath. This will weaken Yuthura for that final test, making her an easy target." He smirked. "Rather generous of me, don't you think?"
Aithne smirked. "Extremely," she said drily.
"Hm. This should be interesting," Jolee said under his breath.
"For coming to me with this information and betraying your foolish trainer, I feel you are worthy of prestige, young Addison," Uthar announced. "Go now…you have not yet impressed me enough to declare you the victor."
"Alright, but don't you want to hear the Code of the Sith?" Aithne asked casually.
"You know the Code?" Uthar asked, skeptical.
"Sure," Aithne replied, crossing her arms, every inch the cocky scoundrel. She told it to him. Uthar asked her some ridiculously easy question about what it really meant, granted her a little more prestige, and dismissed her.
As Aithne walked away, Carth spoke to her in a low voice. "What's going on? I got the feeling you liked Yuthura."
"I do," Aithne replied. "I like her so much I don't want her to waste her life fighting for freedom and losing her soul as a Sith. I want to show her what she is, what's she's doing, and remind her what she was."
"You want to turn her," Jolee said.
"More or less. Does she have to go back to the Order and be a poster child for the Jedi? No. Would I like her to turn her life around, start respecting life again, and remember her own ideals? Yes."
Carth smiled. "Ok, just don't get in too deep," he warned.
"I'll be careful, Mom," Aithne joked. They had lunch in the mess. Aithne spent the rest of the afternoon talking to her competitors. Mekel tried to provoke her into a fight. Lashowe was hostile, but not aggressive. Shaardan was friendly enough, but not communicative. Kel was extremely friendly, but seemed troubled. After exchanging pleasantries, Aithne asked him about it.
"Is something wrong?"
"Not really, no," he replied, though he looked away.
"C'mon, you can tell me," Aithne said kindly.
"My master says that I am too trusting," Kel said, politely refusing to share. "And you're going to be a Sith."
"Aren't you?" Aithne asked, crossing her arms. Aha! she thought.
"That's not what I meant!" Kel said hastily.
"What did you mean, then?"Aithne asked bluntly.
"Never mind," urged Kel, "I can't trust you. Can I?"
Aithne quirked an eyebrow. "That's the nature of trust, isn't it? You have to decide. You can tell me what's bothering you, and I might use it against you, or tell someone else who would. But I also might use my power of choice to decide to help you out, just to shake things up around here. Of course, you can always keep your secret and let it eat you up inside."
Kel stared at her. "What kind of Sith are you?" he asked. Aithne just looked at him, waiting.
"Fine," he said. "Sometimes I don't feel like I belong here. Some of the things the Sith say, some of the things they do, some of it just doesn't feel right."
"You're pretty strong in the Force," Aithne said, "but your aura's pretty light. Ever killed anyone?"
Kel shook his head mutely.
"How about theft? Have you ever stolen anything?"
Another head shake.
"Do you make a habit of lying or cheating?"
"Hardly ever. It just seems…wrong."
Why in the galaxy is he here then? Aithne wondered. The classic move would be to challenge him to a duel to prove himself now, but she didn't. Instead, she said, "Maybe you aren't a Sith, Kel." She kept her voice gentle. She winked. "Maybe that's a good thing."
Kel looked puzzled. "But if I left here, where would I go? What would I do?"
Aithne considered. The kid seemed ready enough to learn, easily led, and decent. She sighed."Have you thought about the Jedi?" she asked. He didn't have it in him to go it alone gray-sided.
"I've never thought about it," Kel said slowly. "I grew up here on Korriban, see. Maybe I should think about it, though." He smiled. "Thanks, Addison," he said. "Maybe it is time I left here."
"Good luck," Aithne said. She turned to go, smiling.
Walking out, she whispered to Carth and Jolee. "There! You see? I did a good deed and eliminated some competition!"
"Oh, very good, lass," Jolee said sarcastically. Carth just smiled, a little absently. He was thinking of Dustil again, Aithne knew. Aithne rounded the corner to where she thought her room was, and swung the door at the end of the hall open.
A tall young man blinked back at her quizzically. Aithne turned bright red and stifled a gasp. He was the spitting image of Carth. The strong jaw, arching brow, slightly long and narrow nose, and broad shoulders all clearly depicted Carth as he must have looked at sixteen. He wore a gray Sith uniform. An elegant Sith saber lay on the nearby bunk. His eyes were a bit darker than Carth's, and the cheekbones were a bit more defined, but this could only be Dustil Onasi.
He smiled at Aithne amiably. "You take a wrong turn somewhere?" he asked, in a warm baritone voice that again called Carth to mind, though it was not so musical as his father's.
Carth gaped. "Dustil?" he said, astounded. "Is that you?"
Dustil's face contorted. An ugly sneer twisted his features. "Oh, lovely. It's Father. Figures that you'd show up after all this time. How did you manage to get inside the Academy?"
Aithne smiled at him. "They were kind enough to let us in the front doors," she said flippantly, trying to relieve the tension that had suddenly sprung up in the young man's face.
He smirked. "Cute. I wonder how interested Master Uthar would be to know just who he has in his web," he told his father. "Last I heard there was a death order out for you from Malak himself." He looked appraisingly at Aithne. "You and Bastila Shan and this other woman. This isn't Bastila. What, is it Aithne Morrigan? That's her name, isn't it? Aithne Morrigan? Tall, brown eyes, looks like she can handle herself. I think it is. Unless you've switched sides, Father? But I doubt that. Just why are you here, Father?" he spat acidly. "Not for me, I hope. Couldn't you have gotten yourself blown up on some ship and spared us this reunion?"
Carth took a step back. "Dustil…what? What are you talking about? I…I thought you were dead!"
Dustil smiled bitterly. "Too bad you didn't still think that," he said. "Or did you really think I would be happy to see you? Look everyone!" he called out mockingly, but not, Aithne noticed, loud enough for anyone to hear. "It's Father, come to rescue me at long last! Sure, he may have left Mother and I to die on Telos, but that doesn't matter!"
Carth shook his head, dazed. "No, I didn't abandon you," he protested. "The Task Force just arrived too late. Telos was in ruins, and your mother…I held her while…" he trailed off, seeing Dustil's stony face. "But I looked for you. I swear I looked for you everywhere…"
Dustil cut him off. "Oh, save it. You abandoned us long before. We were alone all through the wars, and even once you came back you still didn't stay!" His voice grew louder throughout this speech.
"I didn't have a choice!" Carth cried. "I was needed…"
"Yeah? Well you were needed at home, too," Dustil retorted. "You were needed when the bombing started, and I got captured!"
He fairly roiled with the Force, and Aithne knew they had taken him for it. Carth himself was borderline Force Sensitive; Aithne had noticed it before. Carth's wife really must have been amazing, if Dustil had turned out this strong. But strength in the Force had not helped the twelve year old boy alone when he watched his friends die and couldn't get to his mother, and had known his father wasn't there to save him.
He smiled bitterly. "You know what?" he said. "It doesn't matter. Not anymore. I have a new family now, a family that cares about me. I don't need you!"
Carth reacted like he'd been slapped. "The Sith? You can't mean that! No, the Sith killed your mother! The Sith destroyed Telos!"
Dustil laughed. "So? You're the soldier, Father. How many mothers have you killed?"
Carth shook his head violently. "No, you've been brainwashed!" he declared. "the son I knew would never…"
"You never knew me!" Dustil cried. "You weren't even there to know me, so don't presume to tell me what I would or wouldn't do!"
Carth's jaw set. "I don't know what's been done to you," he said, exactly in the manner he shouldn't have. "But you're coming with me out of here. Now."
Dustil's lightsaber flew to his hand, though he didn't activate it. "Touch me, old man, and I'll kill you," he said in a low voice. "Get out! Get out of here before I tell the Sith that you're here!"
Aithne stepped forward before someone got hurt, keeping her hands far, far away from her vibrosword. "Shut up, Carth," she hissed at him, stepping carefully between Carth and Dustil. "Dustil," she said. "Calm down. Carth is only trying to protect you."
Dustil calmed slightly now that he was looking at Aithne instead of his father. "I don't need his protection," he declared. "Not anymore. The Sith give me everything I need."
Carth stepped out from behind Aithne, imploring. "You can't mean that," he said. "The Sith are…they're evil. They're the Dark Side. They…they took me away from you and your mother. They're…they're what took you from me!"
"No," Dustil argued. "They're not evil. They're not! The Dark Side is superior, and you…you were at war long before they came along!"
At least Dustil was arguing, not threatening to kill people, Aithne thought. Still, better she say something stupid to keep Dustil guessing. "Let's see," she said in a contemplative tone. "That makes it Dustil, oh, four or so good points, Carth, one." Carth looked at her sideways, but Jolee began to smile.
"The Sith war to conquer," Carth said, "to rule the helpless. I went to war for you, Dustil. For your freedom, your future."
"Oh, well done, Carth," Aithne praised him. "I'll give you two points for that one. That's four-three. To Dustil."
Dustil jabbed his thumb at Aithne, forgetting his anger in his annoyance for a moment. "Who is this woman?"
"It doesn't matter," Carth said. "Ignore her. She's crazy, anyway."
"I resent that!" Aithne said, but grinned. This was working out well.
"I still don't believe you," Dustil informed Carth.
"If I failed you son," Carth replied passionately, "then it's my failure. Please don't add to it by becoming part of something evil."
Something in Dustil's eyes softened, as if a gate had opened. "Tie game," Aithne whispered. "Your move, Dustil."
Dustil thought for a moment, then threw his lightsaber back on the bed, placing his hands on his hips. "Prove it," he said finally. "Prove that the Sith are so evil and…and I'll think about it."
Aithne dropped the lunatic act now that it didn't look like either of the Onasi men planned to kill the other. "How can we prove something like that?" she asked.
"I'll stay right here," Dustil promised. "I won't tell anyone you're here, or who you really are. For now. You find some proof and you bring it to me. If I hear you asking questions about me or doing a single thing to jeopardize my position in the Sith, I swear, I'll tell everyone what you're up to."
Aithne crossed her arms. "And how will you do that?" she said. "You don't actually know anything other than that we're here."
Dustil ignored her, staring at Carth. "You got that, Father?" he asked. "You prove what you're saying is true. I'm not going anywhere, otherwise." This is your chance not to mess up, his eyes said. Prove to me I can trust you again.
Carth got the message. "I…I got it, Dustil," he said. "I'll be back. I swear it."
The three companions left Dustil's room. Aithne dragged Carth straight back to her own room. She motioned to Jolee. "Go. Eat a snack or something. Try to actually remember you're a slave while you're at it, not an annoying reclusive semi-Jedi, okay? Yuthura almost noticed something today. Lashowe did."
Jolee nodded, and left faster than Aithne had seen him walk in a while. Aithne rounded on Carth.
She crossed her arms. "You know you're an idiot, right? Back there, if it hadn't been for me, you would've probably been killed."
Carth looked at Aithne, incredulous. "Me? It was…it was Dustil! I don't know what's gotten into him!"
Aithne snorted. "Don't give me that. Think, flyboy. I've known you long enough to know that you possess a brain, and a damn good one. Use it. The boy barely knew you! You may have gone off to fight for him and his mother, but you were never a presence in his life." She stared him down until she saw his face collapse and knew he was listening. "Still," she said in a softened tone, "I bet you were a hero to that kid, Carth. Until the day he was walking to school and the bombing started. He tried to run. He tried to get back to his mother. But the fighters were flying overhead. Some Sith noticed the boy has an aura like a nebula. That Sith swooped down and scooped up Dustil, and while he was taken away from his dying world, all Dustil could think of was that his father wasn't there to save him."
"It wasn't my fault!" Carth protested, but his head was in his hands. Anguish lined his brow.
"I know that," Aithne said, placing a hand on his shoulder gently. "And once he thinks about it, Dustil will know that. But you can't just come waltzing in here and expect the kid to know right away. He's been four years among the Sith. You were wrong to start demanding him to leave without giving a single thought to what he's been through. We're going to have to deal with that before there'll even be a chance for you two."
Carth sat on the bed. His head was still in his hands. "You're right," he said finally, in a voice that sounded like it came from far away. "What are we going to do?"
Aithne sighed. She sat down beside him. "You're still his father, even if you've messed up," she said quietly. "And he's still your son." She laughed. "He looks just like you, Carth."
Carth smiled. "He does, doesn't he?"
"He really didn't want to kill you, you know," Aithne said. "He kept going back and forth as to what to do with you. And from what I've heard, he's as decent as the Sith come, for all he has a temper. So, we'll find his proof. He seems fair-minded enough."
"He is," Carth said. "I know that much."
"Then he'll listen."
"How are we going to do it?" Carth asked. He looked up, and his eyes were hopeful.
Aithne's jaw set. She'd been running that question through her mind since they'd talked to Dustil. She had an answer, but she didn't like it, and she was sure Carth wouldn't.
"Carth, you're going to have to bear with me, however this turns out," she warned. Carth caught her tone, and tensed.
"That doesn't sound good. It's crazy, isn't it, what you're thinking of? Or at least insanely difficult."
"Quite possibly both," Aithne admitted. "I was going to play it safe, but if we're going to find the kind of proof we need to show Dustil that the Sith are evil, we have to go places where the Sith are going to be at their worst." She sighed. "I'm going to get right in the middle of a Sith power struggle, Carth. On both sides there's going to be a very powerful Sith master knowing I'm treacherous, expecting me to be treacherous. And…" She paused. "And I'm going to live up to their expectations. I'm going to be as Sithy as possible so we can win that pass to Naga Sadow. And somewhere along the way, someone will give us what we need to prove to Dustil that the Sith are evil."
"That's not much of a plan," Carth said, studying her face.
Aithne laughed bitterly. "Well, if all else fails, you can hold me up as an example to Dustil," she quipped. It wasn't even a joke.
Carth shifted. But it was his son, so all he said was, "Are you sure?"
Aithne nodded. "I'm going to do this for you," she said firmly. "For you and for him."
A knock came at the door. Aithne opened it to reveal Jolee. "Are you finished yelling at him?"
"She's finished," Carth reported.
"How was it?" Jolee asked the younger man.
"Probably exactly what I needed to hear," Carth admitted ruefully.
Aithne clapped him on the back. "C'mon, you two. We have plotting to do before supper."
She led the two of them a few feet, and knocked on Yuthura's door.
"What do you prospects want now?" came an annoyed voice, and then Yuthura opened the door. She smiled. "Oh, it's you, Addison. Come in."
"Yuthura, something's happened," Aithne said as soon as she entered the Twi'lek's minimalist room. "Uthar knows about your plan. He plans to have me fight you at the final test."
"He knows, does he?" Yuthura said, crossing her arms. "You told him, didn't you?"
Aithne knew she was on dangerous ground. She faced Yuthura brazenly. "Of course I did. I could get the prestige out of it, and you aren't exactly subtle. Engineering it so that I would have quarters next to yours, honestly. Uthar knew you'd been planning something. He'd planned on killing you soon. Now, thanks to me, you know when and how. You're welcome."
Yuthura raised a painted brow. "You aren't going to kill me," she said, in a half statement, half question.
Aithne grinned dangerously. "I might. I might not. I like you, but it might help me more in the long run to side with Uthar."
Yuthura smiled slowly. "I think…I think I like you, too. But you should know you don't stand a chance with Uthar. I thought I could use you, like a pawn…I'm starting to rethink that. Uthar has already thought of it. You're too dangerous for him to keep around. I think…I think I'd enjoy it. Here,"
She dug around in her trunk and brought out two items. "Here is the passkey to Uthar's room," she said, "And here is a device. You will place this under Uthar's bed. It will poison him, weaken him before the fight, now that he expects our move. Go. It's our only shot."
Aithne grinned, taking the items and placing them in her pack. She bowed theatrically. "I thank you, Master Yuthura. You are graciousness itself."
Yuthura laughed, and her eyes contained both a new respect and a new wariness of this Addison Bettler, the wild card in her deep game with her master.
"That was your plan?" Carth demanded in a whisper as they left. "Do you know how likely it is that she'll assassinate you, now?"
"Really good odds, I think," Aithne replied calmly.
"Then why…"
"She won't kill me until after she gets rid of Uthar," Aithne interrupted. "She'll be ready for me to turn on her, but hoping that I won't. Here." She handed Carth the passkey to Uthar's room. "What is that?"
"It's the passkey to Uthar's…oh." Carth said.
"Exactly. When I went to Yuthura just now, she was practically forced into giving me another incentive to fight with her. I didn't know what it would be, but I had hopes I could use the information."
"She gave you a way to poison him," Jolee said.
"And had to give you access to his rooms. And there might be something there we can use as proof for Dustil!" Carth finished. He nodded, but looked worried, all the same. "Beautiful-"
"Don't worry about it," Aithne told him. "We probably will find something in Uthar's rooms. He's the principal of evil around here."
Jolee laughed. "Oh, well played, lass!" he congratulated her.
"Thank you, " Aithne said. She led the group down a dark, scarcely frequented passage.
"Uh, Aithne?" Carth asked. "Where are we going?"
"Master Uthar's room," she said. "Shh. I'm sensing."
Her eyes half closed, she led them around one turn and into an alcove. Seeing a door, Aithne smiled. "Here we are. The most evil feeling place in the Academy."
She swiped the card Yuthura had given her. The doors opened with a hiss. Aithne entered, followed cautiously by her companions. The first thing she did was to remove the device Yuthura had given her. She pushed a small green button on its underside. The thing grew small metal legs. Aithne placed it on the floor beside Uthar's bed, and it scuttled away quietly.
"That's the type that will continue to weaken him over days," she said quietly, with some satisfaction, speaking of the device. "It ought to help when I have to fight him. It ought to help immensely."
"Still, isn't it a bit, I don't know, dirty?" asked Carth in an undertone. No one wanted to get caught here.
"Maybe," Aithne shrugged. "But when on Korriban…"
Carth looked away, troubled. But Aithne knelt immediately down to one of the two lockers in the room, slicing it silently with expert speed.
"You've had a lot of practice," Jolee noted.
Aithne grinned. "Mission taught me some tricks," she said. "And I wasn't any bungler before." Jolee nodded.
Aithne ran over the contents of the trunk with eyes and a feather light touch.
"Nothing here," she reported. "Check the other one," she told Carth. Gently, she closed the locker, being careful to leave everything exactly as she found it. This was no place to go thieving. Whereas Uthar might appreciate the ingenuity had it been directed towards any of her competitors, Aithne had an uncomfortable feeling that if Uthar noticed it had been his things she had been stealing and his room she had been poisoning that she would be very dead very quickly.
Carth, surprisingly enough, had cracked the locker when she had finished with her unpleasant musings. She gave him a curious glance, and was returned a crooked smile.
"What? You think you're the only one who can learn things from Mission?"
He examined the contents of the trunk. His face grew grave, and he picked up a datapad, scanning its contents. Suddenly his eyes flashed with triumph. A split second later they grew unexpectedly sad.
"What?" Aithne asked.
"We've got Dustil's proof. He had a friend, a girl named Selene. Apparently the two of them were very close. She, however, wasn't found to have as much 'talent'. Uthar decided she was hindering Dustil's progress. He took the girl out and had her killed. He told Dustil it had been an accident."
Aithne nodded, understanding. "That's certainly evil, and it ought to convince Dustil. But still, it's tough luck for the kid."
"Tough love for the kid," Carth said, jaw tight. "He needs to hear this."
"Any ideas on how to get the datapad out of here?" Jolee asked, taking the datapad from Carth. "Look at this design. Very nice. Very unique."
Aithne caught his drift. They could download the information onto another datapad and show it to Dustil, leaving the original here, but then Dustil might think that they made it all up. They couldn't download the information onto another datapad and then leave the copy. Master Uthar would catch the replacement at once, and might even track it to Dustil.
Carth's face fell as he thought about it. Aithne's eyes flashed, and she glared at Jolee. She snatched the datapad from him and stuffed it into her pack.
"We'll risk it," she snapped recklessly. Anything to bring the hope back to Carth's eyes. She avoided the glances of the pilot and Jolee as she swept out of the room. She didn't want Carth's thanks, and she didn't want to deal with the old man's questions.
"We'll give the datapad to Dustil tomorrow afternoon," she told Carth in an undertone.
He nodded. It was getting late, and he could see Sith making their way back to the barracks. Tomorrow afternoon they would all be out training or seeking prestige, and the three of them could talk to Dustil without much danger of being seen or overheard.
Aithne collapsed on the floor as Jolee took the bed. She stared at the ceiling, wondering what tomorrow would bring. Dustil's fate would be decided, for certain, but that did not get her any closer to beating out the other prospective Sith. That did not get her any closer to the Star Map. She wondered what she would have to do, what she would have to become. And she trembled in the dark, as she remembered Taris and knew that she'd do it.