Five
Sith Academy, Korriban
13 ATC
A'tro had just made it up the stairs to the second level of the Academy when she paused, seeing someone unexpectedly familiar standing just a few feet away.
It was a male Sith Pureblood dressed in plain, practical armor that was designed for mobility rather than defense. He had the crimson skin that was most common to their species compared to A'tro's copper. His head was completely hairless, with a heavy set of ridges crowning his brow and his chin extending into two distinct spiky protrusions. Ornate golden jewelry decorated his ears and nose.
A'tro hadn't seen that face in years, but she knew who he was. He had to be. She started walking towards him, noticing after a moment that he was conversing with a slight figure concealed by a hooded black robe. She hesitated at that, unsure if she was willing to interrupt another Sith's business, but by then she was close enough that he looked up and saw her.
His bright red eyes went wide, and he looked from her to the Imperial Guards behind her and back again. A'tro could almost see him making several realizations at once as he bowed deeply before her, subtly motioning for his hooded companion to do the same.
"Lord Wrath," he said. "Forgive me for not acknowledging your presence sooner."
A'tro flicked one hand in a dismissive gesture. "Never mind that. Savadar Ekari, isn't it?"
"Yes, my lord. I'm honored that you know me."
A'tro found herself hesitating, uncertain of how to handle the situation. She couldn't acknowledge him officially, not with her old identity, but… "You were an associate of K'hera Dhakar."
Savadar nodded. "I was saddened to hear of her death." There was an undercurrent of something in his voice, some emotion that A'tro couldn't quite place.
"As it happens," A'tro said, trying not to sound overly awkward but feeling it nonetheless, "I was also familiar with Dhakar prior to her unfortunate disappearance. Perhaps we could meet sometime in a more private location and discuss our old friend?"
Savadar's brow furrowed slightly. "It would be my pleasure, my lord."
"Excellent. I'll be in touch." A'tro looked over at the hooded figure who was standing a few steps behind him. "Who is this?"
Savadar gave a small start. "Forgive my rudeness for not making proper introductions." He motioned the hooded figure forward. "Lord Wrath, this is my apprentice, Kettrien Byrd."
Kettrien bowed very low.
"She's a bit quiet," Savadar continued, "but she is very strong in the Force. I was just showing her around Korriban."
"I won't keep you," A'tro said. "I have business of my own to attend to. I will contact you later, however."
"Of course, Wrath," Savadar said pleasantly. "I look forward to it." He set off past A'tro and down the stairs, giving Janeth and Zariel a furtive look. Kettrien trailed after him.
A'tro watched him go, thinking hard. She should have expected that she would encounter someone from her old life sooner or later. She should have expected Savadar in particular, given his family's prominence in the Imperial economic scene.
They had been close, once. Very close, though she had abandoned that when Darth Evendre had taken her as an apprentice. That note in his voice when he said he'd ben saddened by news of her death, though… Sincerity, that was what it was.
Perhaps this was what she needed to finally put Quinn out of her mind for good.
She was still thinking it over as she took the elevator to the upper level of the Academy and made her way to the Dark Council chamber. It was not yet time for the meeting to officially start, but three of the Council's members were already there in person.
"Hello, Wrath," Darth Vowrawn greeted her as she walked in. "It's a pleasure to see you, as always. We were just waiting for Marr to connect."
A'tro nodded in acknowledgment as she walked past him and took a seat in the chair that had belonged to Darth Baras.
Directly across the room, Darth Nox winked at her as she continued the diatribe she had been in the middle of when A'tro arrived. "And fifthly, you've left yourself no room to maneuver. The Republic may be spread thin on the near edge of the system, but it would be simplicity itself for them to close in and cut you off." She made a snipping gesture with one black-gloved hand. "In conclusion, your strategy is completely flawed, and when we lose that sector, don't say I didn't warn you."
Darth Ravage, seated to A'tro's left, let out a sharp sigh of annoyance. "There is nothing wrong with my strategy. You are being too cautious. Creeping around like a Baldavian pocket hare will not win a war."
"Neither will rashly overextending our forces and acting surprised when it doesn't work," Nox countered.
"Aggressive tactics are the only way to deal with the Republic. Given the chance, they will dig in, and it will take years to extricate them."
"And while they hide in their bunkers, we can plunder the system as we please." Nox smiled sweetly. "Contrary to popular Sith doctrine, a little patience can go a long way."
"Clearly, you have never fought in a prolonged military engagement. Your advice is neither wanted nor needed."
"Touchy, touchy," Nox sighed. "Is a little civil discourse too much to ask for?"
"I will be civil," Ravage said through gritted teeth, "when you stop trying to dictate how to fight a war in which you have yet to participate."
"Funny, I don't see you on the front lines."
A'tro looked over at Vowrawn. "Do they always do this?"
Vowrawn nodded. "Entertaining, isn't it?"
"—more to commanding my sphere than strutting about with soldiers," Ravage said, continuing to glare at Nox.
"I think you're just afraid that Marr will make you look bad," Nox said archly. "Which is, of course, entirely understandable, since he's been out there crushing the Republic since the war started, while you continue to lounge around Kaas City doing…what is it that you do, exactly?"
"I give instruction to the fleets under my command," Ravage retorted. "I would suggest that you demonstrate your woefully inept notions of military strategy with your own forces, but of course, you don't have any. Such a shame."
Nox pursed her lips. "I do find it quite interesting that even with those fleets, you seem to have accomplished very little. Perhaps we ought to rename the Sphere of Expansion and Diplomacy to Posturing and Empty Threats."
"Strong words from a woman who leads a glorified knitting circle of trivia gatherers."
Nox tittered behind one hand. "Now, now, Ravage, that's not very diplomatic of you, is it? I can't imagine why anyone would put you in charge of that sphere."
Ravage leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "I earned my seat on the Council. I didn't kill one raving lunatic and expect everything to be handed to me on an aurodium platter."
"You seem awfully bent out of shape about my promotion for someone who has said on multiple occasions that the Sith have too many rules."
"How many times will you take that out of context? The Sith Order needs laws and structure in order to function. It is the traditionalists' insistence on dressing up killing with pretty rituals and pretending that somehow makes it civilized that I take issue with."
"So you want us to be both structured and barbaric? That makes no sense."
"That is not what I am saying." Ravage sighed in obvious irritation. "The Kaggath, and all the other rituals like it, promote the idea that murder is only socially acceptable when you give it a fancy name and pretend that you're following some code of honor. It doesn't matter what you call it, it doesn't matter how much you preen and tell yourself and all your friends what a heroic little Sith you are. At the end of the day, either your enemy is dead, or you are. Surrounding it in pretense is a waste of time."
Nox raised an eyebrow. "That's a nice speech. Did you practice?"
"He's been having this argument with someone at least once a month for the past ten years," Vowrawn put in.
"Yes, I have," Ravage snapped. "Because this Council has continued to select members who so desperately cling to the way things were thirty years ago that they have lost touch with reality."
"How convenient, then, that our illustrious colleagues keep getting themselves killed," Nox murmured.
Before anyone could reply, the holoprojector built into the base of the chair to Nox's right flickered and came to life, blue light resolving itself into the image of Darth Marr.
"I have little time to spare," Marr said. His tone, as always, seemed to suggest that he took every unnecessary word as a personal affront. "Our forces are holding steady in this sector, and the next offensive should push the Republic into a retreat." His masked visage turned slightly. "I see you have finally joined us, Wrath. Good."
"Yes," A'tro said. "I wanted to discuss the Sphere of Military Offense."
"With the death of Darth Baras, that sphere is currently leaderless," Marr said. "I assume you are bringing this up because you wish to assume that role yourself."
Definitely not one to mince words, A'tro thought. "That is correct."
Marr nodded once. "You removed the threat that Baras posed to the stability of the Empire. You have the right to succeed him. I will not object."
"It is…an unprecedented situation, to be sure," Vowrawn said. "But we must adapt to the changing times, or find ourselves in over our heads. I, for one, welcome you to our ranks, Wrath."
"As do I," Ravage added, inclining his head in A'tro's direction. "It seems only fitting."
Nox gave him a withering look. "You can't be serious."
"She's already a Darth, and the Emperor's Wrath." Ravage raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to be the only one to object?"
"Certainly not," Nox said coolly. "I believe the Council would do well to have you as one of its number, Wrath."
"It is settled then," Marr said.
A'tro looked around the mostly empty room. "What about the others?"
"This isn't a democracy," Ravage pointed out. He turned towards A'tro and smiled. "If anyone objects…kill them."
Nox rolled her eyes. "Don't flirt with her. It's disrespectful."
"Enough, both of you," Marr said before Ravage could respond. "The war will not wait while you bicker."
A'tro folded her hands in her lap and allowed herself a small, subtle smile of victory. This was it. She had risen as high as it was possible for a Sith to go. She had won.
Marr was right, though. The war would not wait.
