Jedi Temple, Coruscant

Two years ago, weeks before chapter eight

"The temptation of the Dark Side of the Force is a lure that many, even Jedi, have fallen prey to."

Bide rolled his eyes. Fallen prey to? Typical of the Masters—speaking in such a derogatory fashion about something they do not understand. Bide had a special place in his heart—deep, deep down in its lowest recesses—for the Master speaking now, a mass of wrinkles and gray hair named Randall Flagg. The elderly human Jedi Master spoke in a hushed but strained voice, through dry, peeling lips. If you were unlucky enough to be called upon by the rapidly deteriorating instructor, you would find yourself fixed with an unwavering, piercing gaze from his milky blue eyes.

"Is there something you wish to add, young Shriek?" asked Master Flagg. His milky eyes settled on Bide. The young Sith felt a chill ready to run down his spine, and it took all his willpower to halt it.

"Uh," he started. "Not really, no." His right hand tapped anxiously on his right thigh, and he took a moment to look around the room at the two dozen other Initiates seated cross-legged on blue cushioned mats in the lecture chamber. They all seemed to be fixing Bide with a cold, accusing stare.

Master Flagg ran a hand through his wild gray hair, causing it to slick back for a few moments before springing back into its formerly unkempt state. "Are you sure?"

Bide clenched his jaw. "Quite sure, Master Flagg."

"Truly?"

"Yes, Master Flagg. Truly."

"Aha. Why don't you tell us what you wish to say, young Shriek? Comments of all kinds are encouraged in this class."

The sudden urge to blast the aging Jedi with lightning welled up in Bide's stomach. He kept this feeling well hidden, however, as he did all his feelings. His thoughts and intentions were a mystery to all but Bide himself, unless he felt the need to broadcast them.

"Very well, Master," Bide began. It took a strong mental effort for him to prevent the disgust and malice teeming in his mind from seeping into his words as he spoke. "I can't help but feel that we are not getting the full picture here."

This surprised Master Flagg, and Bide held back a smile when he saw the old man try cover up his reaction. "Interesting. How so, young Shriek?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Master. I recognize the… evils inherent in the Dark Side. But how can you speak so absolutely about that which you do not understand? You have not experienced it first-hand, have you? Have any of the Masters?"

Bide knew he was dangerously close to allowing too much of his true self to be revealed, but he could not resist the opportunity to hear the prejudice of the Jedi with his own ears.

"You are correct in some regards, young Shriek. We cannot fully understand the Dark Side without immersing ourselves in its taint. But tell me, young Shriek, have you ever been shot by a blaster bolt?"

"No," he answered, perhaps a bit too quickly. He had indeed been shot, and he had the scars to prove it. These scars had, of course, been concealed with patches of synthflesh to make his cover more believable.

"Would you imagine being shot to be a particularly pleasant experience?"

"Probably not."

Master Flagg smiled, revealing a mouth full of small, yellowing teeth. "The Dark Side, then—would you imagine giving yourself over to such a malicious force to be righteous? Just? Fulfilling?"

His words were empty, vacant of any sincerity or real meaning, but Bide spoke them anyway. "No, Master Flagg, I imagine that it would be an unpleasant experience."

"Very good." The Master's unwavering milky eyes remained fixed on Bide for a few moments longer before returning to his lecture. "Now, as I was saying, the first Jedi to fall…"

The rest of the class passed uneventfully. Bide blocked out the remainder of Master Flagg's lecture, refusing to listen to any more of the nonsensical propaganda he spewed. Perhaps one day I will have the pleasure of running him through with my lightsaber.

My lightsaber.

Bide found himself staring at his empty weapon hand, longing to feel the familiar weight and texture of his hilt, when he felt a light tap on his right shoulder. Normally, he would have moved to trap, and potentially break, the appendage invading his personal space, but Ja'neel had warned him very strictly against such things—there was nothing to fear from the Jedi as long as they felt he was one of their own. He turned his head—noticing in his peripherals that most of the other Initiates had already left—and looked up. She was beautiful.

"Hey, Bide," said the young woman, a stunning Kiffar with a wondrous head of flowing golden hair. She stared at Bide with entrancing blue eyes, a cute smile present on her face. Bide searched his memory for her name and, after a few heartbeats, found it.

"Oh, hey there, Ache."

Ache Lee, the Initiate closest to Bide in age and, according to the Masters, the most brilliant mind among the younger Jedi. He had observed her in sparring sessions on several occasions, and though she seemed to struggle, Bide could sense a well of potential within her, just waiting to be tapped.

She walked around to Bide's front and sat down cross-legged in front of him. "That was an interesting class today, wasn't it?"

"Uh, yeah, I suppose. To be honest, I—"

"Tuned him out?" She smiled knowingly at him.

"Guilty," Bide said, smiling back at her. She giggled.

"Don't worry, I wasn't satisfied with his answer to your point, either. Without the Dark Side, there wouldn't be a Light Side—right?"

This surprised Bide. He didn't expect any Jedi, especially one as book-smart as Ache, to question anything the Masters said. Perhaps she was as intelligent as everyone said.

"Good point. Why didn't you bring that up during class?"

Ache's pale skin flushed with embarrassment. "Well, I…I don't like to disagree with the Masters." She averted her gaze to the blue mat she was sitting on and began to fiddle with a loose thread.

"Why not? They aren't infallible. You're just as intelligent as they are." Smiling, he added: "Perhaps more intelligent."

Ache looked up at Bide and returned the smile. Bide thought he could see traces of a blush forming on her cheeks, but before he could be sure Ache jumped to her feet. "Thanks," she said quietly. Bide stood up slowly, finding his face only a foot from hers.

"No need to thank me. It's true." He locked gazes with her, losing himself in her mesmerizing blue eyes. After a few moments of awkward silence, Ache turned away and giggled. Bide shook off his momentary lapse in thought and stammered a response. "Uhh, anyway… I was about to get something to eat. Are you hungry? I'm buying."

Ache reached up and drew a loose lock of hair away from her face, trapping it behind her ear. She still had a smile on her face. "Well, sure, if you're buying…"