Chapter 1
'Went to a Peace Treaty Summit, suppressed my feelings so they would not sense my intentions, and then slaughtered them all in a trap.
Peace is a lie.'
--Wisdom from the Holocron of Ankla Miresil, a treasure of the Korriban Sith Academy
There were six of us former slaves-turned-acolytes in the shuttle, but I was the only non-human. We were all dressed the same, a cheap tunic, leggings, and boots, and we all carried a training saber that was little more than a stick with a hand guard, not that any of us knew how to use it. As we disembarked, I paused to take in the grandeur of the Sith Academy. I'd spent years on Korriban working to excavate ancient tombs, but slaving in the caves, moving sand and dirt and trying to avoid traps, was a far cry from where I stood now. While the others gathered around a waiting overseer, I squinted up at the towering spires and statues and almost fell as our escort shoved roughly past me. He was a pureblood Sith, and although he carried no lightsaber, he wore robes made of some fine silk. He paused to speak briefly to the overseer, then sauntered inside.
"The last one is finally here," said the man. He'd begun without me, of course. "I hope you don't think you're special. It would be a shame if freedom went to your head." I felt a familiar resentment rise.
"Lady Zash has tasked me with sorting through you refuse to find one worthy to be her apprentice, and I intend to do just that," he continued, screwing up his face to emphasize just how horrible his job was. None of us said anything. I wondered if "sorting through to find one" meant that only one of us would survive. Would I have to kill the rest of the group? My stomach churned with anxiety.
"The only path forward is completing your trials successfully," said the Overseer. "Fail, and you might as well not return. If you come to me without completing your task, you will give me the great pleasure of killing you myself. The rest of you gutter trash already know your trial. Get going while I bring the latecomer up to speed!" The other acolytes walked off as a group, but the only girl paused.
"Watch your back, friend, and don't worry. He can't kill us all," she reassured me. I smiled, wondering if she'd just guessed my nerves, or if she'd somehow sensed my thoughts.
"I'll attack from the front, you attack from behind, and we'll see how he fares," I said, deliberately pitching my voice low to keep it from carrying. She stepped back quickly.
"I...uh...looks like you can handle yourself," she said. Just overly friendly, then.
"Now, slave, for your trial," interrupted the overseer. The girl scuttled off after the others. "There's a hermit named Spindrall who lives in the tomb of Ajunta Pall in the Valley of the Dark Lords. He's a lunatic, but Lady Zash sees him as some kind of prophet. When you find him, he will test you."
"Yes, Overseer," I said, daring to meet his gaze briefly; after all, I was an acolyte now. He didn't like something in my eyes. Perhaps it was my resolve.
"Don't keep Spindrall waiting, Slave," he snarled, and left me standing there before I could ask him directions.
It turned out that the Valley of the Dark Lords was hard to miss--and so were the giant k'lor'slugs roaming around in packs. I'd never seen ones this big; I could only assume that it was some sort of additional test, since the soldiers around seemed only concerned with making sure that they didn't roam too close to the temple entrances. I'd never encountered one personally before, but I'd seen the mess they made of other slaves. I had my training vibroblade, but it barely had enough charge to sting, let alone do anything beyond minor bludgeoning damage. It wouldn't be enough against these beasts. And even if I survived, healing my injuries at a med droid would cost money that I didn't have.
I surveyed the path deeper into the tomb. This wasn't a trial! The Overseer had sent me to die, probably because I was the only nonhuman. None of the others had been sent this way. My rising fear helped me know exactly what to do. I approached the first group of slugs, only two about waist-high. If I couldn't get through this, I would never be able to get to the tomb, and I'd be as good as dead anyway.
It took several tries to summon sufficiently desperate rage, but at last a blast of purple lightning erupted from my fingers, engulfing one of the beasts and killing it almost instantly. The second one charged at me, and I swung my blade and knocked it to the side. Before I could finish it off, a third slug, almost twice my height, exploded from beneath the sand. Scrambling, I somehow managed to stab it right in its gaping mouth as it drove towards me. Three rows of teeth lined its maw, but apparently it was rather vulnerable in the back of its throat. It roared and withdrew as yellow blood coated my blade. I finished off the small slug with another blow from my saber and concentrated, zapping the final monster before it could rush me again.
I stood there, ankle-deep in sand, feeling a rush of triumph and adrenaline that had my heart pounding and my claws extending. I could do this. I surveyed my kills with satisfaction, and a glint caught my eye. I reached down and delicately plucked a credit chip out from between the largest k'lor'slug's teeth. No need to be wasteful, after all.
By the time I'd made it to the main antechamber of the tomb, I'd found quite a few odds and ends inside the k'lor'slugs: mostly credits, of course, but there were a few unbroken stims and even a medpac that would come in handy in a pinch. The slugs were certainly dangerous, I mused as I came across a group of dead soldiers. But as I looked closer, I realized they and their leader had died of blaster fire, not being bitten. I scooped up his datapad and scrolled through it to see what I could find.
It was a bounty contract for some missing statues. Mercenaries had stolen Sith artifacts, I learned, and were even now hiding in the tombs, waiting to escape. They would pose an additional threat to acolytes and soldiers alike. Great, I thought. Just what I needed.
I had imagined armored mandalorian warriors emerging out of shielded invisibility to attack with high-powered blaster rifles, but the mercs were actually little more than ragged humans. I almost mistook them for slaves until they drew their dinky blaster pistols and began firing at me. That was enough to spark my rage and lightning into being.
The actual act of killing was easy. These humans had no armor, no natural resistance to the Force lightning I summoned. The two attackers died sooner than I'd expected; I didn't remember much about the alien I'd electrocuted to death as a slave, but I'd thought it would take more than that. I stared down at the bodies, twisted and even smoking slightly, and swallowed the bile that tried to rise.
You are going to be a sith, I reminded myself. There will be more bodies, more dead, more killing, before you get out of this tomb, let alone before you finish training as an acolyte or apprentice. If you let this bother you, you will fail and die along with them. I took a deep breath of the foul air. Was I weak, or was I sith? I crouched to search the corpses. I'd done this before, but it was the first time they were still warm. It was the first time I'd caused it.
I'd killed almost a dozen mercenaries before I found my first two statues. I tucked them into the back of my belt in, feeling a little ridiculous since I already had my previously scavenged pickings wedged in my clothes. Eventually I came across their camp. Someone had recently passed through; the dead were still warm and bleeding. I gathered each precious artifact, being careful not to overlook any other valuable salvage. During a moment of vulnerability, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye.
I turned, raising a hand to send lightning, but it wasn't a mercenary or k'lor'slug. A pureblood Sith, clearly also an acolyte, stood watching me. In his hand he held another metal statue.
"For your collection," he said, tossing it my way. I caught it, fumbling awkwardly with my left hand since I refused to drop my sword, meager protection though it was.
"I don't need your help," I spat. He didn't seem offended; he was almost amused.
"You might want to get yourself a bag," he said instead, his highborn accent getting even more posh if that were possible. He turned to stride down another hallway. I stood, torn between smashing his stupid statue and keeping it for the reward money. Prudence won out, and I slid it into my belt with the others as I cursed him in every language I knew.
Spindrall wasn't impressed by my bits and pieces, either. I'd at least had the foresight to set my small collection of statues behind a pile of rubble near the entrance to the tomb, but his eyes lingered on the bulge of medpacks tucked inside my tunic. "An alien acolyte," he said. Unlike most people, he seemed merely to be observing a fact as opposed to passing judgement. "The Sith are not friendly to your kind, but that will be an advantage, I think." I almost smiled. Some advantage!
"Their hatred only makes me stronger," I replied, and he nodded his approval.
"You're here for your trial, yes? Learn the ways of the Sith from a doddering old man in a tomb?"
"As you say," I replied, but even though he'd continued in the same conversational tone as before, I didn't even pretend to believe his words. He wasn't that old for a human, and he had bulging, blue-black veins of corruption on his face and neck that marked many powerful and well-known Sith.
"First you must pass a trial of blood," he said. "Survive, and I will teach you." He turned away and knelt to resume his meditation, so I turned back and walked down the steps. I'd passed a group of acolytes on my way in, but they'd been training and had left me alone so I'd left them alone. Now they waited for me in a semicircle, blades drawn. An odd feeling--not quite eagerness, not quite fear--filled me as I contemplated that only one of us would survive the encounter.
I didn't bother closing on them, nor did I descend to give them an even footing. I paused at a particularly wide step, concentrated, and shot a blast of lightning at my closest enemy. My slaughter was made easier because they didn't fight as a cohesive group; I recognized that even though I was their target, at any moment they each were prepared to turn on their fellows.
The last two acolytes didn't try to attack me with their vibroblades. They each stayed well clear and began to summon lightning, so I flung myself down the stairs towards the closest one, flailing with my vibroblade. It was barely better than a club, but I was desperate and the girl didn't have a sword in her hand. I was in the middle of beating her to death when a lightning blast struck me. It was just a short jolt, but it was enough to make me cry out. It was also enough to push me over the edge.
The red haze I remembered from my first kill descended, and suddenly it seemed like the simplest thing in the world to summon a continuous stream of electricity that arced across the room to engulf the final attacker. I felt him die through the Force and stepped back. My previous victim had crept away somewhere while I was distracted, so I turned back to Spindrall.
"Excellent," he told me. "They wanted nothing more than to kill you and earn a second chance at glory, but your desire proved stronger. Their blood became the mantle of your victory, but you are not Sith yet." He straightened, beginning to pace, and then he repeated the words that would become the cornerstone of my existence. They resonated in my bones, and I felt their truth and strength through the Force.
"Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through Power, victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me."
"This is the Sith Code," he continued. "Commit it to your heart, and you will crush your enemies. Do you understand?"
"Of course," I said, almost shocked that anyone could misunderstand something so self-evident. "I was born to be Sith!"
"Do not be timid," he warned. "Humility is the attitude of a slave, not a Sith. Return to Harkan and nurture your hatred for him. Use your fear of him to grow stronger." I nodded. "He may raise his fist to strike, but Lady Zash is the one who determines where the blow will land."
"But who controls Zash, I wonder," I mused. Spindrall looked surprised and pleased at my comment.
"When you know that, you will have power over both your masters," he said. "Now go." I bowed.
It didn't take me long to make my way through the rest of the tombs. As I stepped into the blazing Korriban sun, I spotted a med droid and carefully made my way over to it. After it healed my burns, bruises, and scrapes, I sold it the salvage I'd collected from the dead and purchased a small knapsack, loathe as I was to follow the arrogant pureblood sith's advice. As an afterthought, I asked the droid to help me locate a person who could give me the bounty I'd gathered.
"Sergeant Rikel should be able to help," it replied, gesturing to an armored soldier who was sweating, bare-headed, in the sun. I wasn't sure how to approach the human; slaves were taught to avoid troops at all costs. But I wasn't a slave any longer, I reminded myself, no matter what the scar on my neck or the brand in the fur of my forehead might say. I strode over to him.
"I have come for the artifact bounty," I said flatly. I needn't have worried. He didn't even look me in the face.
"Of course, my lady," he said. He carefully placed each artefact in a padded crate, then offered me a large credit chip with a bow. I resisted the urge to snatch it--that was more credits than I'd ever had in my life! I stood there a moment, but he kept bowing, and I realized that he was waiting for me to dismiss him.
"As you were," I said, feeling giddy as I turned away. Alien or not, former slave or not, he deferred to me! The feeling didn't last long.
"Ever the latecomer," Harkun droned when I entered his office. The others were all already there, as well as the Sith pureblood who had been our escort on the shuttle, but the girl acolyte lay dead in front of Harkun's desk, killed by Force lightning. They'd clearly been waiting a long time for me.
"Meet Ffon Althe," he said smugly. "No connections in the world, but pure Sith blood. This! This is Lady Zash's new apprentice, not filth like you. This is real Sith strength. He will tear you apart and crush your bones, slaves." My fellows seemed actually afraid, but I was angry. I hadn't killed my way through that tomb to fail now. Harkun was not going to cheat me of my place at Zash's side.
"Congratulations on your new pet," I sneered, feeling adrenaline course through me at my impulsiveness, "but I'm not sure Lady Zash will be as impressed by Ffon's 'real Sith strength' as you are." A lewd gesture made my implications very clear. I heard choked sniggers behind me. I was almost amused to note that Ffon turned purple in his speechless fury. Harkun grew quieter in his rage.
"Step this way, please, slave," he said. "I want to speak to you privately. The rest of you know your trials. You too, Ffon. Go!"
"Now listen to me," Harkun whispered inches from my face. The Force around us leapt and jumped, belying the calm way he spoke. I drew on my fear, pulling the dark side tighter around me. "Spindrall is a lunatic. His approval means nothing. You are filth and you will die. Is that clear?" As I gazed up, I realized that his eyes were blue, with not a hint of Sith corruption in them, and I abruptly wasn't afraid anymore.
"You think you scare me?" I sneered, feeling my recklessness increase as the force settled in my skin. I'd seen real power that day in Spindrall. This petty human was nothing more than a middleman, a toady, forever trapped in his place, while I was destined to become a powerful Sith Lady.
"You are nothing, and don't forget it," he said. For a second, I thought he was going to hit me, and I prepared to dodge. But he controlled himself and sat back down behind his desk. "Get out."