Chapter Two: Blades of Poison
Reyenna Desme strode down the corridors of the Sith Academy with renewed energy and confidence. Gaining Darth Zash's favor hadn't made her safe, per se – But while Overseer Harkun remained resentful, he would now need an actual reason to kill her. Her lessons with Arkarix Krell had improved her swordplay - perhaps not to the level of an expert, but at least to where she could hold her own against her fellow acolytes.
Today's Trial was in the Detention Center. The Inquisitor who was acting as her judge directed her to interrogate a prisoner – another acolyte. A Sith Lord's apprentice had been the victim of an "unauthorized murder." Witnesses had placed Acolyte Trello at the scene.
"You must learn to control others," he told her. "Make Trello tell you the identity of the murderer, at any cost. I look forward to watching you work."
He leered, almost licking his lips at the prospect. This was a man who clearly enjoyed his work.
Trello was pale and shaking, and his forehead was beaded with sweat. His eyes darted about the room, searching for a sympathetic face.
"I don't know anything!" he insisted, even before she walked up to him.
"Hush," she whispered to the acolyte. "I'm your friend."
If she had been free to apply her own judgment, she might have indulged in pity for him. After all, what was one more murder in this place? But if she showed weakness, Darth Zash would not protect her from Harkun. The icy Sith Lord might even apply her own discipline – which Reyenna knew would be even worse than that of her murderous overseer.
"I just want to talk," she cooed. Hoping to relax him enough for him to let something slip.
Something in his eyes went dead. He recognized the tactic, and knew that she would not be his ally.
"I swear I don't know anything," he pleaded, his voice a pathetic whine.
It was the whine that did it. Reyenna touched Trello's hand, felt its softness. He had come from wealth and privilege. He had never done any sustained physical labor, had never felt the blow of an overseer's whip. Instead, he had been pampered for his Force abilities, told how special he was.
On Korriban, no one was special unless they were Pure Blood Sith. They were all scum together until they proved otherwise.
"You don't know anything?" she asked mildly.
"I swear," he begged.
"Tell me your name."
"I… My name is Trello."
"My name is Reyenna," she said. "I'm from Balmorra originally. Where are you from?"
He seemed to be relaxing slightly. "Ah… Dromund Kaas."
"Can you recite the Sith Code?"
He looked confused. "Of course. Why?"
"Don't ask why," she said. "Just recite it."
He did so perfectly, clearly rattling off a lesson that had been ingrained since childhood.
She raised her hand and shot a blast of purple lightning into him. He cried out, screaming as it burned him.
"You lied to me," she said sharply.
"What are you talking about?" The pampered young man was already sobbing.
"You know your name, you know where you're from, you know the Sith Code. So when you told me you knew nothing, that was a lie, wasn't it?"
She shot another burst of lightning at him. She didn't even have to glance behind her to know that the Inquisitor was leaning forward, drinking in the sight of his pain. What surprised her was how much she shared that delight.
"Please!" Trello cried. "Don't do that again. I'll do anything!"
"Anything? Really?" Reyenna walked around the boy, evaluating him. "Sing to me."
He shook his head. "What?"
"You heard me. Sing." She raised her hand, as if to shoot another burst into his body.
"What would you like to hear?" he yelped.
She grinned. "I'm feeling… melancholy," she said. "Cheer me up. Sing me something happy."
"Uh… All right." His face was a picture of desperation as he searched his mind for a song.
"I'm waiting," she warned.
He gulped, began to sing:
"They say it's a perfect galaxy,
A great day to be alive.
A… dum, dee-dee, dum-dum, dee-dee,
And then our love will thrive."
He strained against his bonds. "I can't remember any more!" he cried. "Please, just let me go!"
Reyenna raised her hand. "Sing, you worm!" she thundered.
She fired another burst of lightning – A longer burst. The young man thrashed against his bonds, his scream becoming raspy. Reyenna could smell his flesh beginning to cook.
"I'll talk!" Trello yelled. He was sobbing openly now. "He'll kill me, but I'll talk!"
She cut off the lightning, but kept her hand raised.
"Esorr Kayin," he gasped. "He's the murderer. You have to protect me, or he'll kill me!"
Reyenna smirked at him.
"And what concern is that of mine?" she asked. She raised a hand to stroke his cheek. He flinched from her touch.
"Maybe you'll get lucky," she whispered. "Maybe he'll kill you quickly. Until he does, stay out of my way. I despise soft little worms like you."
Out of impulse, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. Then rose and turned to the Inquisitor, ignoring the weeping of the boy behind her.
"Esorr Kayin," the old torturer mused. "A pity. His Master is Darth Acina, of the Dark Council. I doubt Kayin will get so much as a reprimand." He glanced over at Trello. "It would probably be kindest to shoot the boy in the head and have done with it. But I admit, I'm curious to see exactly how Kayin will deal with him."
He beamed at Reyenna. "Regardless, you have acquitted yourself magnificently. I might even have offered to take you on as my apprentice – But it seems you are already spoken for."
He hesitated, then leaned forward, dropping his voice to a whisper.
"Watch out for Darth Zash. Beneath those velvet gloves are blades of poison."
Reyenna was on her way back to Harkun's office when she was intercepted by two others from her class. Wydr and Balek, two brothers. Not particularly skilled in The Force, but they made up for it by being built like brick houses. Even Ffon Althe, the Pure Blood Sith so favored by Harkun, hesitated to act against them.
"Hello," she said, greeting them with her friendliest smile.
They had selected a secluded spot along her route, one with no side passages through which she could escape. They had closed on her from either side, so she could not even flee the way she had come.
"Hello, friend," Wydn said. His tone wasn't unfriendly, but he avoided meeting her eyes.
"I'm guessing Harkun sent you," she observed. She reached up to balance her right hand against her left shoulder, so that she would be able to draw her practice blade one second faster than if she kept it at her side.
"We're sorry it had to be like this," Balek told her. "We actually like you."
"But Harkun made you a deal," she guessed. "You know he won't keep it, right?"
"He didn't promise to make us Zash's apprentices," Wydn said. "We know that's never going to happen. He just said he'd send us home."
Reyenna shook her head sadly. "You're witnesses. He won't leave you alive."
"It's a chance," Balek snapped. "That's more than we have otherwise!"
Reyenna drew her practice blade, adopting a defensive stance.
"We'll try to make it quick," Balek promised, as he and Wydn drew their own blades.
She smiled. "I'll try for the same."
The fight was short. Their initial blows were powerful, but Krell's lessons allowed her to dodge with ease. Then she used her Force abilities to draw them up into the air. She kept her promise – Their necks snapped in the same instant, so that neither would have to see his brother die before him. An incerator was nearby. She floated the bodies there, dumping them into the flames. If she was observed, she detected no sign of it.
When she finally made it to the classroom, Harkun was alone. He did not seem surprised to see her.
"Well," he said. "Look who shows up at long last." He grinned. "Since Wydn and Balek aren't with you, I'm guessing the contest is now between you and Ffon."
He wasn't even pretending, Reyenna saw.
"Speaking of Ffon," she said, with that sunny smile that she knew he hated, "where is your little pet? Do you have him alphabetizing torture implements?"
Instead of responding with annoyance, Harkun returned her smile with his own ugly grin.
"When you took so long returning," he said, "I sent him ahead. Your final Trial will be in the Tomb of Naga Sadow. You must awaken an ancient assassin called a Dashade, who sleeps in the tomb's depths. You will need the creature to access an ancient map from the tomb's innermost chamber." His rictus grin grew wider. "The Dashades were ancient assassins the Sith used to devour their Force-using enemies. If you manage to release it, then I expect it will reward you by eating you alive."
"Sounds charming," she replied.
"Oh, one more thing," he said. "There is one Dashade, and one map. One of you will bring the map back to me, and will become Darth Zash's apprentice. The other will die. And Ffon already has a substantial head start. My advice? Run, slave – Run!"
Reyenna felt her own grin rise in defiance.
"The winner is the one who returns the map," she pointed out. "Not necessarily the one who retrieves it. I think Ffon might soon be the victim of an unfortunate accident."
Harkun scowled, started to respond.
They both jumped at the sound of a throat clearing. Darth Zash stood in the back of the room. Neither overseer nor acolyte had any idea how long she had been standing there.
"I was hoping to see the last hopefuls off on their final journey," Zash said. "Where are the others? The two beefy brothers and the red one – What's his name? Ffloff?"
"Ffon," Harkun replied, with a respectful bow. "The brothers appear to have fled the Academy."
"Oh, they fled. I see." It was clear Zash wasn't fooled by the lie. "What about dear Fflop?"
"Ffon," Harkun repeated. "He finished his Trial early, so I sent him on rather than keep him waiting – "
"Oh, dear," Zash said in mock despair. "I was just coming down with this text. I don't believe the Dashade can be freed without it."
Reyenna's forced grin transformed into a very genuine smirk. "Well," she remarked. "It's a good thing I didn't start running, isn't it, Overseer?"
Harkun spluttered. "But Ffon's already left," he protested. "You can't just – "
"Can't what, Harkun?" There was a dangerous gleam in Zash's eyes. "I can't give one acolyte an unfair advantage over another? Tell me, when has being Sith had anything to do with being fair?"
Harkun stepped back, obviously cowed.
Zash turned to Reyenna. "My dear Reyenna," she said, "here is what you must do to free the Dashade." She activated a holographic map of the Tomb of Naga Sadow. "There are rods scattered all over the tomb. They are the keys to the chamber where the Dashade is imprisoned. You will need to place them in the chamber door, and then electrify them."
"The same way I freed the holocron," Reyenna said, recalling an earlier Trial.
"Essentially," Zash confirmed. "The ancient Sith did love to create locks requiring lightning. It shows rather a lack of imagination, in my opinion." She stepped forward, taking hold of Reyenna's arm. Even through Zash's glove and her own robe, Reyenna could feel the ice from the Sith Lord's skin.
"Be mindful," Zash said urgently. "The Dashade is dangerous. Harkun wasn't lying about that."
She looked back at Harkun, making sure the overseer knew that yes, she had been there long enough to overhear far more than he might have liked. Then she turned back to Reyenna. "I have reason to believe this particular Dashade was placed in the tomb by Tulak Hord himself. If I'm right, he'll be particularly powerful."
Reyenna felt an anxious twinge, forced herself to maintain her smile.
"I'm not easy to kill," she told Zash.
Zash grinned her approval. "Good." She squeezed her arm, and Reyenna felt ice shoot into her. "I can't interfere with the Trial. But know that my hopes go with you."