Prologue
Chapter 1
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…
The Sith Empire tightens its grip on the galaxy. The Galactic Republic and its Jedi defenders lie weakened and vulnerable after the Empire's successful military campaign.
With a fragile peace negotiated, the Empire sends all potential Sith to undergo cruel and deadly trials at its Academy on the harsh planet Korriban.
Today, one of the Empire's most promising young warriors, Ibelia Ekatu, has been secretly summoned by an influential Overseer to face the dark side trails much sooner than expected.
It wasn't under her volition that she was being brought into the Sith Academy earlier than normal, but she certainly wasn't going to say no to it. To be accepted into the Academy meant you were ready to be taken in as an Apprentice.
As her transport drifted out from the capital ship in orbit, she takes in the odd beauty of Korriban's arid surface through the cockpit's window. With a mix of browns, reds, and oranges, she could see the many dust storms tear their way across the planet.
The deeper browns and reds that were strewn across the surface signified the deep valleys and cliff sides that made Korriban what it is. This, however, wasn't what made Korriban beautiful to her, though. No, what made it beautiful was the immense dark power emanating from it.
Korriban was the Sith home world. While the term Sith identified a dark side force user and their religion, it also had another meaning. This other use, which was sadly becoming rarer, was the actual species.
Throughout the ages, the Sith species had slowly been dying off. While they were not necessarily the originators of dark side force users, they allowed their namesake to be used to identify one another. Ibelia had met a few of the Sith species when she had started her training as an acolyte, and she found their uniqueness quite beautiful.
"We're about to enter the atmosphere, ma'am," said the pilot of the transport. "If you could take your seat as it gets bumpy when we pass through the atmosphere."
"Of course," Ibelia said, bowing slightly, then taking her seat beside her two escorts – both being soldiers of the Empire.
The one to her right seemed to be the ranking officer in this venture. She wore the garb of most officers, light gray overshirt and pants, with little to no armor. To Iberia's left was a typical trooper. He was decked out with the customary light armor that most Empire troopers wore – the colors being a mix of dark grays with red stripes throughout.
She herself was wearing the honorary garb of a Sith acolyte from the Academy. A mix of dark and bright red cloth layered across her chest and abdomen. Her shoulders were covered with basic, red shoulder plates – the right side bearing a single white stripe centered on it. Her pants were black and were made from the same material as her top.
"Do you know if the Overseer will meet with me once we land?" she asked the officer beside her, as she gathered and wrapped up her long black hair into a loose ponytail.
"I would imagine so," the officer said, turning her gaze from the empty space to Ibelia. "He only tasked us with bringing you to the dock."
"He gave you no further instructions?" she asked as she squinted her emerald-colored eyes at her.
"I'm sorry, acolyte, but we weren't."
"Hmph, what a pathetic attempt to undermine those in power at the Academy. The Overseer better hope that this doesn't blow back on him, and especially me," she said as the seed of anger sprouted within her.
The rest of the trip, with a few bumps here and there, was quiet. She had nothing more to say to her escorts, and there was nothing they could say to ease the tension within her. Information was key to survival, and unfortunately, she was fumbling around in the dark.
Becoming a Sith was fraught with danger. Most times, they would put you in competition with other acolytes. No direct fighting with each other was allowed, but you were all fighting for the one thing all upstart Sith wanted – a Sith Lord as their master.
The Overseer that had contacted her was particularly silent at who her potential master would be. In fact, she didn't even know who they were. All she knew was they had enough power to ferry her here in secret. She realized this undertaking would be dangerous, but she had expected a better laid out plan.
"Sixty seconds till we land, ma'am," said the pilot over the intercom.
Good, she thought to herself, it's about time I face my destiny… whether it be my rise to power or my utter end.
At the landing platform stood the Overseer, patiently waiting for the arrival of the acolyte he summoned. As much as it pained him to fund this endeavor, he knew it was going to be worth it. The Force told him as much. She was destined to become one of the most powerful Sith the Galaxy would ever see, and he would reap the rewards for accelerating her training.
Within minutes, he spots the transport and watches it adjust its trajectory for landing. In standard fashion for all new acolytes, the transport passed between eight enormous statuettes – Korriban's longest lasting landmark.
All eight statues, four on either side, bore the typical signs of erosion from the many dust storms that plagued the planet. While a few of the statue's heads had fallen off in time, the rest had their heads bowed in respect with their arms crossed.
After passing the Korriban's statues, the transport landed with ease. Once its armored panel lifted, revealing the door to the transport, both Ibelia and her escort walked down the extended ramp. The Overseer couldn't help but smile upon seeing the future of the Sith in the flesh.
Ibelia, after taking a few steps away from the transport, stops and watches a man walk up towards her. He had a simple, but elegant outfit that was a mix of black and dark grays with both his shoulder pads and boots armored.
"At last, you've arrived. Good, good," he said, as he drew close to the platform's ramp. "There is much to do, and every moment is critical."
Ibelia just turns her head towards the officer and nods her head, signifying that they should depart. After they bowed back to her, she headed down the ramp of the landing platform.
"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."
She tilts her head to the right slightly. "I suspect I wouldn't be here if you figured I would perish in these trials."
"You suspect correctly," he said, taking a few steps backwards before spinning around to walk to the nearby building. Ibelia, in turn, was quick to follow. "As you well know, you are here ahead of schedule because of me. I expect you to obey and follow my orders. Face your trials, serve me faithfully, and I will make you the most powerful acolyte here."
"Interesting. Do you give this speech to every acolyte you put under your wing?" she said, laying her skepticism on thick.
"It's good to have a critical edge, but recognize who is on your side," he said, stopping just underneath the large opening in the building. "I'm here to get you through these trials, and while they themselves are hard enough, they're not the greatest threat you will face."
"What is my greatest threat, then?"
"The acolyte you're here to replace a man named Vemrin. He is your enemy, and he will eventually try to kill you. So, you must prepare."
She just puts on a smile, "Let him try, I'll relish in his destruction." She knew she was being boisterous, but with the dark power from the planet flowing through her, she couldn't help but feel exhilarated at the prospect of rising to this challenge.
"With my guidance, someday you will destroy all who challenge you." He looks at her training sabers. "Those practice swords you've arrived with are insufficient, the blades of lesser acolytes. You will need something more, something dominating," he said with a raised clenched fist.
"In the tomb of Ajunta Pall, you will find an armory. There you will find several Sith warblades that you will take up. Be aware, it is infested with deadly, savage creatures called k'lor'slugs. Be speedy but careful. They have been the end of many an acolyte."
Once again, feeling the overwhelming power of the dark side pulse within her veins made her words drip with exhilaration and malice. "I will destroy every last slug that gets in my way."
"Good," he said with glee as he fed off the dark power radiating from her. "Use that feeling to bloody the weapons you will gain there. Once you've had your fill, come to my chambers in the Academy where we will discuss more about your rise to power."
Then, with a slight bow to her, he takes his leave and heads to a speeder bike he had used to get here. She watched as he straddled and took off on the speeder towards a nearby path that she figured led straight to the Academy.
With her task laid before her, she headed off through the building and out the opposite side onto a winding ramp that led to an entrance to the tomb Tremel mentioned. Down below, she also noticed the other thing he had mentioned to her – the k'lor'slugs.
Her imagination of what a k'lor'slug paled in comparison to the actual creature. Their bodies, while tubular, had twelve appendages – six on either side of it. What was odd about these appendages, however, was that not all were being used to traverse the ground. She imagined that the spare 'feet' would be used if it lowered itself onto the ground for a dashing move.
The danger to these creatures was what it had at its disposal for attacking. The two top appendages held a singular straight spike at its end. Its spikes measured a little over a half meter – long enough to leave both an entry and exit wound. Though, if these spikes didn't hit their mark, its teeth certainly would. Its gaping mouth was ringed with two rows of sharp teeth, like a leech.
"Hmm… deadly and savage. I think I see why," she said as she continued to watch the few creatures wander the open area in front of the tomb's entrance.
There was only one thing that worried her, the size of them. The ones that were out in front probably measured to about her height – near of two meters. However, the way they were going about their life, they looked to be the scavengers or workers. If this was true, these creatures would get much bigger the deeper she went into the tomb.
She wasn't about to let that possibility in her imagination stop her from accomplishing her task. She would fight her way through the k'lor'slugs, enter Ajunta Pall's armory, and take what ultimately was her right to have.
–––––––––––––––
In the Sith library within the Academy, Vemrin was transferring various Sith texts for his future master, Darth Baras. While he was technically not Darth Baras's apprentice yet, he knew it was only a matter of time. The rest of the competition had died during their trials or were foolish enough to face Baras with their failure of the trial, in which they subsequently were killed by Baras himself.
"Hey Vemrin," Vemrin turns and sees his friend Dolgis walking up to him, "I got some news for you."
"Hit me with it," he said as he turned back to his task.
The only reason that Vemrin and Dolgis remained as friends, and not killed one another, was that they were vying for different masters. Each had the same kind of cruelty towards their competitors and were often sent to the same tombs on Korriban. It was only natural for them to lean on each other to climb to the top.
Dolgis was the bigger of the two. Cresting at a hundred and ninety-five centimeters, he towered over most of the other acolytes in the Academy. However, if his height didn't intimidate most acolytes, his physique did. When he wasn't undergoing a trial, he was honing his body – strengthening it to become a lethal weapon. He was also bald, had a short light-brown goatee, and two black bar tattoos that wrapped around to the back of his head on his right side.
"That Overseer under your master, Darth Baras," Dolgis said as he leaned his back onto the bookcase Vemrin was near, "rumor has it that he's snuck in a new acolyte to take your place."
"Is there any truth to this rumor?"
"Just saw him coming from the docks, with the biggest smile on his face," he replied, letting the little bit of smugness in his voice drip into his words.
"What?" Vemrin shouted as the dark side within him poured out from his billowing anger. "I alone am to be Darth Baras's apprentice, no one else. I fought to get where I'm at, and I will not stand idly by while a pretentious upstart attempts to uproot me."
"Exactly my sentiment, Vemrin. It's why I came to you right away with this."
Vemrin gets up from his chair. "You've been good to me, my friend. Come, let us see what's special about this new acolyte."
As he walked with Dolgis towards the main hall, it was clear who was physically stronger. However, where Vemrin lacked in strength, he made up with speed and agility. The trials were not all about brute force, and where Dolgis would have failed one of his many trials, Vemrin was there to save the day.
He was of average height, but his body was thinner, more lean. Though, as much as his speed and agility had helped him, it couldn't prevent Korriban's underlining dangers from scarring him.
Because of the immense amount of darkness emanating from Korriban and its tombs, it often drove a few acolytes mad. During one of Vemrin's trials, one of these crazed induced acolytes had attacked him, gifting him a cross-patterned scar across the right side of his face – nearly damaging his eye.
Once they entered the main hall of the Academy, they roamed around and waited for nearly twenty minutes before they saw a woman that neither of them recognized. She stood tall as she strode into the main hall, though she exhibited the exhaustion of being in battle. Though, the thing that Vemrin truly noticed about her were the two warblades strapped to her back.
"She's gotten her warblades earlier than anyone has been allowed to," Vemrin said as the boiling anger within him burned hotter. "Tremel is overstepping his station far too much." He then looks to Dolgis. "It's time for us to have a chat with her."
"Right behind you, Vemrin," he said with a smile.
They waited behind the steps to the second floor until her back was to them before following her to Overseer Tremel's chambers, quickly catching up with her before she passed through the archway to his chamber.
"Hey, acolyte," Vemrin yelled out. "Hold on a moment."
Ibelia was quick to spin around to face the individual who dared to stop her from reporting her success to Tremel – her hands twitching to grab her newly won blades. What she saw before her were two men, one much taller and buffer than the other. They were putting on an intimidating front, but it didn't faze her.
"Why are you interrupting me?" she said, lowering her voice to a growl. "I have important business to deal with."
"Hmm… just as I thought, you are Overseer Tremel's quote, 'secret weapon,'" Vemrin said as he assessed her strength. "Impressive, to be sure, but I'm afraid the old man waited too long to make this move."
Ibelia just raises an eyebrow, "Says who?"
"Says me. If you haven't gathered already, I'm Vemrin. I'm certain that the old man has mentioned me. I have fought and bled for everything I have earned, and I demand respect."
"I only show respect to those above my station, which you are not," she said as she crossed her arms. "Your cry for respect falls on deaf ears, Vemrin. Now, leave me be or else I'll give you a taste of my wrath."
"Heh, foolish girl, I'm trying to save your life. Tremel has overstepped his station, and I can definitely tell you that you don't want to be caught in his wake of his own destruction. Had he done this move a year ago, his plan may have had a chance; you may have had a chance, but it's too late."
"This is ridiculous, Vemrin," Dolgis said, interjecting himself into the conversation. "Let's just kill her and hide the body."
"You know better than that, Dolgis. There are rules to abide by. Traditions. So, we'll leave the shortcut taking to Tremel and his last pathetic hope here," he said, his last words focused on Ibelia as he stared daggers at her.
"Your words are hollow and mewling, Vemrin. If I was so pathetic, you wouldn't have even bothered with talking to me."
"Wrong. Everyone gets one talking to, so they know their place." He then looks to Dolgis. "Let's go, we're done talking with this whelp."
"Be right there Vemrin," he said, then waited for Vemrin to leave to address Ibelia alone. "Listen to me you useless priss. As Vemrin sadly stated, there are rules and traditions here. Acolytes aren't supposed to murder one another, but accidents happen. It isn't murder if there are no witnesses."
"Good to know."
"This is the only warning you will get. Vemrin is the alpha monster here. You go after him, you die. It's that simple," And, before Ibelia could respond, Dolgis turns away from her and walks away.
"Interesting," she breathed to herself. "It would appear that subtlety is out of the picture now." She then turns and heads down the hall to Tremel's chamber.
What's worse, she continued in her head, is that Vemrin was right. I easily sensed Tremel's desperation when I met him. If he's gone over his station, he will be destroyed. I must make sure that I don't get caught up in it.
As she turned the corner of the hall, she immediately saw Overseer Tremel talking to another woman. Of course, she didn't recognize her, but she had a resemblance to him, if barely.
"Ah, you've returned," Tremel said when he spotted Ibelia walking in. "You seem to be in one piece. Tell me, how well did your new blades serve you?"
She takes a quick glance at the blades strap to her back before looking at Tremel. "They're certainly a step up from what I had."
"What are you doing, father?" the young lady said as she looked at Tremel. "I've been here for six months, and I just got my blade a few days ago."
Ibelia immediately noted the unfamiliar woman calling Tremel her father. The resemblance she saw was true, though upon closer inspection, she saw why it was hard to make out before. At some point, she had suffered an attack that had left three jagged scars on the left side of her face. It was a substantial wound at some point as these claw marks ripped through a good portion of her face.
A daughter. He has a daughter yet chose me as the usurper. I wonder if it's because she isn't strong enough to face Vemrin, or if his love for her won't allow him to risk her life. No matter, her loss is my gain.
"I have my reasons, Eskella, and you will not breathe a word of this to anyone. Do you hear?" he said, his voice going low.
"Yes, yes, father."
He turns his attention back to Ibelia. "Acolyte, this is Eskella, my daughter. She's one of the advance students here. On her way to becoming Sith, that is, if she minds herself."
"I'll keep quiet about your new charge, but I won't be there if whatever you're planning blows up in your face." Eskella then turns away from them both and leaves the room.
"Don't mind her. She's just sore that I'm keeping secrets from her. As much as she bares her fangs, she's loyal to me. Now," he said, his tone shifting to a more serious one, "I thought I heard Vemrin's voice down the hall just now. Has he already made his move?"
"Yes, he made himself aware of me."
"Damn, I had hoped we would have more time," he said as he rubbed his chin. "Vemrin will soon make a move against you to keep the position that he has."
"And what position does he have exactly?" she said, her voice going dark as the frustration of being left in the dark took its toll.
"There's been no one to challenge him for nearly a year now, which has practically made him an Apprentice now. The Empire has been in demand for more Sith. Because of this, admittance into the Academy has been relaxed," he said as he paced back and forth.
"Anyone with Force sensitivity is allowed entrance. This move has weakened the Sith. Vemrin is weak, his blood not pure Sith. Therefore, he must be eradicated."
"I'm not pure Sith either. Shouldn't I be deemed unworthy?"
"You mistake what I mean," he said, as he stopped his pacing. "Both of your parents are Sith. They passed their trials and proved their strength to climb the ranks. They found Vemrin in a gutter; his past never showed what his lineage was."
Ah, now I see.
"So, you're an elitist snob," she said, testing his meaning.
Confusion hits his face. "You say that like it's a bad thing. This is the Sith way. Only the best and most pure can be in power. Because he's been untested for a year, he's caught the eye of Darth Baras, one of the most influential Sith Lords. He is being groomed to be Baras's new apprentice."
He pauses for a moment to shift his stance before continuing. "As Darth Baras's apprentice, the power at Vemrin's fingertips will be considerable. He will change the Sith for the worse. Thus, the expedition of your trials. You must surpass him as soon as possible."
"Your next trial is to interrogate three prisoners I've brought here and decide their fates. You must weigh each criminal's story carefully. The decisions you make will be scrutinized, so let your passions guide your judgments."
"It will be done, Overseer Tremel," she said with a bow.
"Speak to Knash, the head jailer, and let him know you are the one to interrogate the prisoners. Once you're done, come back to me so we can discuss your judgments."
As Ibelia turned to take her leave, she wondered what purpose this trial served. Would it show Tremel proof of what she was willing to do to potential prisoners of war? Test her resolve upon seeing those weaker than her? Perhaps it was purely an intelligence test. The last trial was a simple test of strength and will. This too could be a simple test, but one of intelligence. If that was true, then what was the catch?
She continued to ponder this as she weaved through the many halls in the Academy. Eventually, after asking a couple of other acolytes, she found her way to the jails.
"One more chirp from you little bird, and you'll regret it."
Ibelia stopped at the doorway and listened in to who must have been Knash speaking to one of the prisoners in their cell. She was a young Twi'lek with deep blue colored skin, with her headtails, or lekku as it's called, strewn with short black streaks down the length of them. As with all the prisoners in the room, she wore simple clothing, both dark and light grey, as well as a shock collar on the back of her neck.
To Ibelia's amusement, the prisoner simply made chirping sounds back at Knash. Whoever this prisoner was, she had a bit of spirit, considering her current situation. Knash, however, was not amused by her comedic response to what he said and activated the shock collar on her neck – giving her a good jolt.
"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."
Ibelia could tell Knash was about to hit the button for the collar again to shut her up. While it would be entertaining to watch them go back and forth, she had more important business for him. So, she made herself known and fully entered the room.
"Ah, you," Knash said as he spotted Ibelia out of the corner of his eye. "I'm Jailer Knash. I was told someone would come down to deal with the three new prisoners. Word of warning though, this situation is highly unusual. Normally an acolyte like yourself would be off world doing this trial, not here. For some reason, Tremel thinks you're the next coming of Exar Kun. If you're smart, you'll realize that he's not the only one paying close attention to you."
The second coming of Exar Kun? Whether or not Knash is exaggerating, I must get ahead of this death trap Tremel is making.
"Now, these three prisoner's stories are unrelated. Interrogate them as needed and then decide their judgement. We usually execute or allow the convicted a trial by combat to see if they're worthy. Whatever you decide, you will be the one to carry out the sentence."
"So, I have complete power over what happens, interesting." Knash just nods to her. She then looks at the three prisoners before eventually moving to the first prisoner.
"This first one…" Knash said before being interrupted by the first prisoner.
"You freaks aren't getting anything new out of me. Just do whatever you're going to do."
"You're a feisty one, aren't you?" Ibelia said as she drew closer to the cage. "I'm not without reason. Tell me why you're here and perhaps you'll be set free."
"As I was saying," Knash said, frustration billowing out from the tone of voice, "she was sent to kill an Imperial spy in the Yavin system. Throughout her torture, she maintained she was hired anonymously."
"When will you get it through your damn head? I didn't know he was an Imperial, and I don't know who hired me."
Hmm… a potential assassin.
"Tell me, in what way did you murder him? How did you go about doing the dark deed?"
"That's the thing; I didn't kill him. They caught me before I could pull it off."
"Point is," Knash said, butting his head back in, "she doesn't deny the charge. Now it's up to you, execution or trial by combat?"
"Answer me one last thing, prisoner. Do you draw pleasure from killing, or is it just a job for you?"
"It's a job, plain and simple."
"Very well," she looks at Knash. "The Empire has need of assassins and I see enough potential that she could be of use to us. Send her to Imperial Intelligence."
"I won't work for free."
"I think you'll find their pay quite acceptable, so long as you're loyal."
"Huh, interesting; you spared her. Can't say that I would have seen that coming."
"Please," said the prisoner in the second cage, "I'm a fellow Sith. Judge me with an open mind, like you did with her, and grant me trial by combat. I beg you."
"Silence scum," Ibelia said, her voice sharp and precise. "You will speak when spoken to."
"Well, we're done with her, so we can move down to this pile of waste," Knash said as he gestured to Ibelia to head to the next prisoner. "This ex-Sith is Devotek. Once a valued Sith champion, until he botched an important mission that led to a thousand Imperial deaths. Makes me sick to hear his constant begging."
"I served faithfully for twenty-four years, then I make one mistake and they just throw me away." As Devotek continued, Ibelia's expression bubbles into a fierce gaze. "If I am to be punished for my mistake, then please, let me feel the weight of a weapon once more before I die."
"I thought I said you will speak when spoken to," she said as she reached out her hand with the Force and squeezed his body – forcing stifled noises of pain and agony out of him. "You're a fool to think one mistake put you here. Just in this brief moment, I already figured out the reason; you've gone soft."
Knash takes a step back to give her space. This was nowhere near close to the first time he watched a Sith in training, or Sith in general deal out punishment. He knew better than to get in the way as they lashed out. Though he enjoyed the show every time.
"Begging for permission," her hand, outstretched like claws, closes tighter, making her invisible grasp on him tighten, "asking for an honorable death," she closes her hand a bit more, earning her an agonizing scream from him as he fell to his knees. "All of this reveals that you are weak. Even now, the fact that I, a mere acolyte, can do this to you means you are no longer worthy to bear the title of Sith."
All the prisoners in the room stare in astonishment as they watch Devotek be crushed bit by bit with Ibelia's power. As she closed her hand even further, the crunching sounds of bone and cartilage grinding and breaking resonated throughout the room – causing the third prisoner she had yet to interrogate, to turn away before coming sick. Then, with a final closure of her hand, she squeezes down with the Force – rupturing his internal organs. And, with one last gasp of pain, Devotek crumples to the ground, dead.
Ibelia's fist shook as the anger and adrenaline continued to pump through her veins. She had drowned herself with the dark side of the Force, and as much as she was told to use the dark side with anything she did, she never felt more alive using it than now. This man, this Devotek who was Sith, died by her hand – an acolyte's hand. As she relished in the moment, her thoughts drifted back to what Tremel said to her about being Sith.
"It is the Sith way. Only the best and most pure can be in power."
Now she understood what Tremel meant. Whoever Devotek was, wasn't Sith. Neither creed nor power that laid within could stop her from killing him, thus proving his unworthiness. He had to be destroyed. His lack of strength would have weakened the Sith if he had stayed in power. If Vemrin were as weak as this individual, she would destroy him, too.
As she looked about the room, she saw both the Twi'lek and the prisoner she pardoned look away from her. Whether it was through disgust or fear, she didn't know, but she would feed off of their raw emotions, just like they trained her to, and use that power for this last prisoner.
The prisoner in the last cell was a Neimoidian, a race similar to Duros, who was now cowering in the furthest corner of the cage from her. Like all Neimoidian's, his features were pretty nondescript. He had red eyes that had a black, jagged line running through the middle of them with no nose. Though, unlike most of his race, his skin was a light brown with a tinge of a pinkish red in it. Most came in greens and browns, so this one was a bit unique.
As she walked toward this last prisoner, Knash followed behind her and introduced to her this alien.
"This one is called Brehg, and he's a jittery little wretch but also a bit of a puzzle. We've suspected him of supplying forged documents to Republic agents. Once more, he maintains his innocence despite being severely tortured."
"That's because innocent I am!" Brehg said, speaking in his own language and not in Galactic Basic. "Believe me, you gotta. I had nothing to do with forging no papers. Set up, I was set up!"
Ibelia points to Brehg, "Must I remind you about speaking when spoken to?"
Brehg looks to the lifeless clump of Devotek, then back to her. "No, no Sith."
"Good. Now, tell me the truth and the torturing will stop."
"Telling the truth I am. Many things I've done in my life that I'm not proud of. Did some time, I did, in a Republic jail for forgery, so I was the perfect candidate to implicate in this. Straight I've been since getting out."
"He's never wavered from that line," Knash interjected, as he rubbed his chin, "and the evidence against him is circumstantial. I suppose it's possible he didn't do it."
Still overflowing with the dark side, she looks at Knash with a fist slightly raised. "Fool, he's already confessed that he's a forger. Torture him further until he confesses to the crime. Afterwards, kill him."
"No! Brehg is not going to confess to something Brehg didn't do."
Without even looking, she reaches out with her hand, wraps the power of the Force around Brehg's neck, and chokes him. "That is my decision. Are we done?"
"We're done acolyte." Ibelia releases her grasp over Brehg and fully turns towards him. "Huh, you're an interesting one kid. I can see why everyone has their eyes on you. Head back to the Overseer, he'll go over my report about all of this and discuss your choices."
After giving Knash a slight bow, she takes her leave and contemplates her second trial. Unlike her first trial, this one was rather complex. Based on how Knash was pushing things, each prisoner was destined for death; she just had to choose the form. Anyone lesser would have just followed his lead, but that's not the way of the Sith. A Sith takes the lead, a Sith makes the decisions, and a Sith does all of this with the guidance of the dark side of the Force.
"Oh, the wondrous things I will do when I become Sith," she whispered under her breath.
I feel as if I'm on the cusp of knowing what it means to be Sith, she continued in her head. If I am to gain that knowledge and become Sith, I will have to deal with Vemrin… and Tremel. Yes, Tremel is a liability that must be extinguished soon if I am to survive.
