16
Chapter II: There Is No Emotion
Born to two Force users, Darth Phantos and the Jedi Padawan Ashara Zavros, Arierra had been a Arierra had been an anomaly. She was born with ash-blonde hair. In addition, Phantos could sense no connection to the Force inside his daughter.
Neither Phantos nor his wife had blonde hair.
Both Phantos and Ashara were Force users.
Any other Sith would have killed his wife in a rage for the insult of infidelity, but Phantos was cold and calculating. Instead of hatred, Phantos simply ignored her, and left her to raise Arierra mostly on her own. Phantos was busy with his scheming to grab a seat on the Dark Council, and Ashara was happy enough with the arrangement if it meant seeing less of her husband.
Ashara's daughter was not a Force user, but Ashara could teach her what she knew, limited as it was. They trained together in secret, Ashara imparting the philosophies of the Jedi, practicing meditation, and Arierra's favorite activity: lightsaber forms. Arierra of course never touched a lightsaber, only using a wooden practice blade.
Though she sought the affection of her father, as she reached adolescence, she grew to understand his level of involvement in her life. Minimal contact with his non-Force attuned bastard child would keep Phantos' embarrassment in the back burner of his peer's minds and would easily keep Arierra's training a secret. This embarrassment lessened over the years as Arierra proved herself quite capable as an officer of the Imperial military when she reached adulthood. After only a year of service, she was quickly reassigned to Imperial Intelligence, where she further exceeded expectations as the youngest operative at only nineteen years old. Four years of covert undercover missions only sharpened her ability to lie, and to lie well. After all, she had been lying her whole life.
A violent shudder shook her from her introspection. The shuttle must've breached the atmosphere. She swallowed her fear and steeled herself for what was to come.
The imperial shuttle touched down on the landing platform, the doors opening to let in a blast of arid wind and blinding sunlight. Statues of ancient Sith Lords were carved into massive cliff facings of chiseled red stone, their intimidating stare looking down upon the denizens of Korriban. Arierra stepped out of the shuttle, escorted by two imperial officers, who stopped about halfway to the arrival gate and stood in formation.
She was all alone now.
At least that feeling was nothing new, she reminded herself.
There was a dark-skinned man with buzzed hair waiting for her. He wore rather standard Sith attire, black robes augmented by pieces of plasteel armor to cover vital areas. Compared to the rest of the faces she'd seen that day, he seemed somewhat amiable. She kept up her guard. Looks could be deceiving, and failure to recognize this could be deadly.
"At last, you've arrived. Good, good. There is much to do and every moment is critical," the man said. "I'm Overseer Tremel. For decades, I've administered the trials that prove who is and is not worthy to join the Sith Order. The trials are a chance to weed out the weak. Those who face them either survive and become Sith or die."
Just treat this like any other mission, she told herself, trying to stay calm. She played Keeper's voice in her head.
"The mission briefing: infiltrate the Sith Academy. You will assume the identity of a Sith Acolyte. You will perform the trials of the Sith, and you will achieve apprenticeship to a Master. This is a deep cover mission. Contact will be non-existent and if you are discovered we will not acknowledge you. This is your most dangerous mission yet, but I have confidence in your ability to serve the Empire."
It was almost convincing. But the longer she looked in Overseer Tremel's eyes, the more she realized that this would most definitely not be like any of her undercover missions. She could feel his energy. She could feel the Force in and around him. She could feel the Force inside of herself.
It scared her.
She pushed down the fear, knowing all too well that any sign of weakness would be taken advantage of swiftly and brutally. Her mother had once told her that she was relieved that Arierra had no connection to the Force, so she wouldn't have to face the horrors of the Academy trials. Now her mother's worst fears had come to pass.
Only slightly shaken, Arierra was pleased at the ease of which she slipped into yet another persona, this time of the confident Sith acolyte.
"Mark my words, I am destined to be Sith."
That wasn't too ambitious, was it? She had met many Sith who were insufferable elitists, so assured of their great destinies.
With a single sentence, Overseer Tremel pierced through her disguise.
"It wasn't destiny that brought you here," he said with a half-smile.
Oh... right. He can sense my lie through the Force, she realized.
Her confidence was quickly slipping, and for a single moment of sheer panic, she had a crazy thought. The shuttle was still behind her. If she ducked and ran she could knock out the guards and fly away. Her eyes shifted to Tremel's belt and the lightsaber hitched to it. She wouldn't even make it a meter before the lightsaber had impaled her.
"You are here and ahead of schedule because of your...unique circumstances. I expect you to obey. You face your trials, you serve me, and I will make you the most powerful acolyte here." It was obvious that Tremel knew exactly what was on her mind, but he didn't sound overly threatening. In fact, she sensed a tiny bit of dread from him, deep down inside.
Of course. He knows who my father is. Anybody with half a brain would know. He's...afraid of me? No, that's not right. He's afraid of my father. If anything were to happen to me, my father would bring down his wrath upon those who wronged him.
After all, his reputation preceded him. He was legendary among the Dark Council. Cold, calculating, strategic. Almost like a Jedi in that way. If I want a chance at making it through this, I should keep up the strict professionalism I had in my Intelligence days...
"Sounds like a plan," she said simply.
Overseer Tremel nodded and continued.
"The trials themselves are difficult enough, but they are hardly the greatest threat you face. There's an acolyte here named Vemrin. He's your enemy, and he will try to kill you. We must prepare you."
"How is it that I already have a rival? Maybe he can be reasoned with?" she asked.
"There are no amends to be made with a creature like Vemrin. We must strengthen your bond with the Force to match his. All you need to know is that you are a threat to him, and he to you. We'll make sure you can stand up to that threat.
"That practice sword you've arrived with is insufficient—the blade of lesser acolytes. You need a dominating weapon. In the tomb of Ajunta Pall, there's an old armory. A strong Sith war blade awaits you there. The tomb is thick with K'lor'slugs—deadly, savage creatures. Be speedy but careful. They've been the end of many an acolyte. Once you acquire the war blade, I suggest you spend some time in the tomb bloodying it. Then come to me in my chambers in the Academy."
The journey through the tomb was rather uneventful. After briefly assisting an Imperial commando with a troublesome slug nest—"strengthening ties with Imperial military," as the man put it—she retrieved the war blade and headed up the ancient stairs out into the desert canyon.
Up ahead was a massive metallic pyramidal structure that could only be the Academy. It was rather intimidating, knowing how many powerful Sith roamed those halls. Her father could be in there somewhere, watching over her training, judging but not interfering. She found Tremel's office easily but was stopped just outside his door by two men. One was an angry looking man with a scar on his face, and the other was a bald hulking pile of muscle, towering over the both of them.
"Hey there, acolyte. Hold on a moment, let me get a look at you," the smaller man said with a gruff voice. He looked her up and down and frowned. "Hmmm...so you're Overseer Tremel's secret weapon, huh? Impressive, to be sure. Afraid the old man waited too long to make his move though. I'm Vemrin, and unlike you I've fought and bled for everything I have. I demand respect."
"This is a big place, Vemrin. There's more than enough room here for both of us," she said, trying to nip any sense of hostility in the bud. It was a tactic she used often in her Intelligence days.
The less I have to look over my shoulder, the easier it is to get the job done, quick and clean.
"I'm glad to hear you say that. There's plenty of room for you. Behind me. If Overseer Tremel had made his move a year ago, when I first arrived, you might've had a chance. But now—too little, too late." Arierra had no idea what kind of Sith politics game he was blathering on about, but he was starting to annoy her as much as Jheeg had back on Hutta.
The large man next to her turned to Vemrin.
"This is ridiculous, Vemrin. Let's just kill her already and hide the body," he suggested. Vemrin shook his head in refusal.
"We're not on Balmorra anymore, Dolgis. There are rules. Traditions. We'll leave the shortcuts to Overseer Tremel and his last pathetic hope here," Vemrin explained.
It was becoming quickly obvious to Arierra that there was no reasoning with Vemrin, so she decided to have a little fun and poke at him a bit.
If this is going to be the last week of my life, I might as well loosen up a bit and enjoy it.
"You're not very good with people, are you?" she asked with a smirk.
"You're not funny. Just pathetic. And you've been warned. Coming, Dolgis?" Vemrin asked.
"Be right there, Vemrin," he said as Vemrin left them. Dolgis apparently had more to say.
"Listen to me, you useless priss. Acolytes aren't allowed to murder each other. But accidents happen. It isn't murder without witnesses. No more warnings. Vemrin's the alpha monster here. You go after Vemrin, you die." With that, he walked away.
Charming people, she thought as she walked through the door to Tremel's office. She found him conversing quietly with a young woman.
"Good, you've returned. You seem to be in one piece. Tell me, how do you like your new blade?" Tremel asked.
"I suppose this is sufficient," Arierra said plainly. Deep down, she was itching to hold a real lightsaber. The woman next to her narrowed her eyes and scowled in disgust.
"What are you doing father? I only just got my war blade, and I've been here six months!" she complained.
"I have my reasons, Eskella. And you will not breathe a word of this to anyone. Do you hear?" Tremel warned.
"Yes, father," Eskella said.
"Acolyte, this is Eskella, my daughter. She's one of the advanced students here, on her way to becoming Sith. If she minds herself," he explained.
"I'll keep quiet about your new charge, father. But I won't be there if whatever you're planning blows up in your face." She stormed out of the room leaving the two of them alone.
"Don't mind her. She's just sore that I'm keeping secrets. She growls but she's loyal. Now, I thought I heard Vemrin's voice in the hallway before you arrived. Did he make his move so soon?" Tremel asked.
All this talk about making moves was making her head spin. Sith politics was sounding like it would be infinitely more complicated than covert operations.
"He just introduced himself to me," she said, not wanting to bring up any of Vemrin's threats. Tremel stroked his chin in contemplation.
"If he didn't attack, he must not fully comprehend the threat you represent. Good, good. Still, I'd hoped we'd have more time. Vemrin's not the type to sniff around for too long before trying to take a bite. In a drive for sheer numbers, the criteria for Academy admittance has been relaxed. Now anyone with Force sensitivity is allowed entrance," he said with a shudder. "Vemrin is mixed blood. The invisible rot eating at the foundation of the Empire. He must not be allowed to advance."
I could be mixed blood as well. But I guess when your father is on the Council, that gets overlooked, she thought. She decided to be frank with Tremel for once and let out a little sass.
"So, you're an elitist snob," she said. It was a risk, of course, insulting her mentor. But it was a risk she was realizing she could afford.
"You say that like it's a bad thing. It's the Sith way. Only the best, only the most pure, should be good enough. Unfortunately, Vemrin's caught the eye of Darth Baras, one of the most influential Sith Lords. He's being groomed to be Baras's new apprentice. As Darth Baras's apprentice, the power at Vemrin's fingertips will be considerable. He could change the Sith for the worse. You must proceed to your next trial immediately. I want you to interrogate three prisoners in the Academy jails and decide their fates. Consider each criminal's story carefully. The decisions you make will be scrutinized, so let your passions guide your judgements. Go to the Academy prison. Speak to the head jailer Knash, and return to me after you've passed judgement on the prisoners."
The prison wasn't very far from Tremel's office. As she stepped through the door she could hear what she presumed to be Knash threatening a prisoner. Knash was leaned up against a crate facing a jail cell that was holding a cute blue Twi'lek girl wearing a slave shock collar.
"One more chirp from you, little bird, and you'll regret it," Knash said menacingly.
"Chirp, chirp chirp," the Twi'lek said. Arierra had to hold back a laugh.
I like this one, she's got some nerve on her.
Knash apparently didn't like the joke. He pressed a button on a handheld device, and the shock collar activated, stinging the Twi'lek girl.
"Ow! Jerk! If you don't like that, just say so. I can do other animals too. Dire-cat, frog-dog, Kowakian monkey-lizard, you name it."
Knash ignored her as Arierra stepped up to the cage.
"You, I'm jailer Knash. I run these cells and slave pits. You're the acolyte Tremel sent for the test, right? He thinks highly of you," he said.
"That's good to hear. I want to do well," Arierra said.
"You should know," Knash continued, "this situation is highly unusual. Normally an acolyte goes off-world for the interrogation. Overseer Tremel had these three shipped in for you. He think's you're the next coming of Exar Kun. But you ought to know, Tremel ain't the only one paying attention to you."
Her thoughts briefly drifted to her father. Knash turned away from the Twi'lek girl and gestured to three other cells.
"These three prisoners have been transferred here for your inspection. You gotta interrogate them as needed, and then decide their fate. The convicted are usually executed or given a trial by combat to see if they're worthy. Whatever your decide, you will be the one to carry out the sentence."
Arierra took a long breath in. She couldn't remember the last time she had this much autonomy. Every moment of her life was devoted to a mission, devoted to keeping secrets from everyone around her. Everyone was pushing her to go the direction they wanted. She had been making decisions as other people for so long, she almost didn't know what it would be like to decide for herself. What would she, Arierra Sarrak, former Intelligence agent, current Sith acolyte, do in this situation? She was only a Sith acolyte by circumstance, not by any choice of her own. Her thoughts drifted to her mother, and the lessons she was taught in secret. She remembered her mother's greatest lesson: survival, at any cost.
"Alright, lets started. This one on the left—"
"You freaks aren't getting anything new out of me. Just do whatever you're going to do," the woman behind the bars growled. It was now or never.
"You can either talk to me or to the Inquisitors. And I promise, I have a much sunnier disposition," Arierra said, folding her arms across her chest.
"Get lost! I've been through this routine. I already know all your Inquisitors by name," the prisoner said.
"Impudent to the last," Knash commented. "As I was saying, she was sent to kill an Imperial spy in the Yavin system. Throughout her torture, she maintained that she was hired anonymously."
"Get it through your damn head—I had no idea he was Imperial, and I don't know who hired me!" she protested.
"So you're telling me you're not a Republic assassin?" Arierra asked.
"I'm not political. I work for whoever pays," the prisoner explained. Knash stepped in.
"The point is, she doesn't deny the charge. So, now you must decide. Execution or trial by combat. Which do you choose?"
The gears in her head were turning quickly. Knash had explained that the convicted were usually executed, not always. Meaning there was room for out of the box thinking.
"Neither actually. She could prove useful. Send her to Imperial Intelligence," Arierra demanded.
"I won't work for free," the prisoner chimed in.
"Hmm...you spared her. Interesting," Knash noted. He seemed genuinely perplexed by the outcome.
They walked to the second cell and the man behind the bars was practically on the floor, begging for his life.
"Please! I am a fellow Sith. Judge me with an open mind and grant me trial by combat. I beg you!" he sniveled.
"Your name?" she asked. Knash answered for him.
"This pile of waste is Devotek. Once a valued Sith champion, until he botched an Imperial mission and caused a thousand Imperial deaths. Now look at him," he said as he spat towards the cage.
"I served faithfully for twenty-four years, then one mistake and they threw me away!" Devotek mumbled. "Now I've been left here to rot. Please, let me feel the weight of a weapon once more."
"I don't do charity work," she said.
"Then I die a disgrace," he muttered.
Time for bit of exercise in her new abilities. She raised her arm and reached out. She felt past her skin, past the air, through the bars of the cell towards the man whimpering in front of her. She guided the Force around his throat and squeezed tight, and she could feel it, almost as if she were choking him with her own hands. It was exhilarating, and frightening. Slowly she closed her hand into a balled up fist, squeezing her fingers against her palm. Her fist was so tight her nails were digging into her skin. She felt his fear, felt his terror, and then felt nothing. Devotek fell to the floor, dead.
"Good. Now I won't have to look at his sad weathered face anymore," Knash said as he spat towards Devotek's fresh corpse. "Thank you."
She felt anger rise in her. "That man served for a long time. You should be more respectful," she growled.
"This last prisoner is a bit of a puzzle. He's called Brehg, and he's a jittery little wretch. Suspected of supplying forged documents to Republic agents. Strangely enough, he maintains his innocence despite being severely tortured," Knash explained.
Brehg was a different species than Jheeg, but just as ugly. Arierra pulled out her translator. It was doubtful this alien spoke Basic.
"That's because innocent I am! Believe me, you gotta—I had nothing to do with forging no papers! Set up! I was set up!"
Arierra chuckled. "Are you trying to tell me you've led a clean life?"
"Well, I never said that," Brehg admitted. "Did some time in a Republic jail for forgery, so I was the perfect candidate to implicate in this. But I've been straight ever seen getting out. I swear!"
"Hmmm...he's never wavered from that line, and the evidence is circumstantial. I suppose it's possible he didn't do it. What do you decide?" Knash asked.
It wasn't much to go on. He seemed innocent, but he could be lying. Either way, it was an easy answer.
"I don't care if he's innocent or not. Torture him enough and he'll confess!" She reached out with the Force again. It was so much easier the second time around. Just as he was about to lose consciousness, she slammed him to the bottom of his cell.
"It's not fair!" Brehg cried out.
"Shut up you fidgety fool! The decision's been made," Knash said. "Well, I guess it's back off to the Inquisitors for him. That's that. You're an interesting one, kid. I can see why people are keeping tabs on you. Head back to Overseer Tremel and see what he thinks of your choices."
Back in Tremel's office, Arierra waited with increasing nerves. Tremel stepped inside soon after she did.
"Sorry to make you wait, acolyte. These interruptions are incredibly annoying. Now, onto the business at hand: your test in the jails. First the assassin. She attempted to kill an Imperial spy but was unaware of her client's affiliation. You assigned her to Imperial Intelligence. I commend you, that was excellent thinking. Never waste a potential resource."
"Thank you, Overseer. I'm glad you approve," Arierra said quietly.
"What's more important is that Darth Baras would approve. Now, the failed warrior Devotek. He wanted combat but you struck him down. Perfect. The man was utterly useless. Devotek was an utter waste of space."
"I took no pleasure in killing him," Arierra admitted.
"And why would you? It's like taking out the trash. You don't think about it, you just do it. Once something is no longer useful, it should be eradicated. Remember that. Now, the forger you sent back for more torture even though he seemed innocent. A strong decision. Leave no stone unturned."
"A ripple from even a tiny stone can flow a great distance," she said, quoting a Jedi proverb her mother once told her.
"Well, look who turned deep and insightful," Tremel muttered with a smirk.
"Each time, each prisoner, you made the best possible decision. You may yet be able to challenge Vemrin for Darth Baras' attention."
"Thank you, Overseer,"
"Thank yourself, acolyte. It's performances like this that just might beat the extreme odds we're facing. You must always be thinking, considering every angle. Aside from a strong and skilled sword arm, this will be what impresses Darth Baras the most. You're beginning to understand what it means to be Sith.
"Because you were forced into the academy ahead of schedule, Darth Baras will be predisposed to judging you severely. And by severely, I mean fatally. Now, we must hurry to your next trial. Every moment that passes we risk discovery before we're ready."