Chapter Three: Questions
Silence plagued the cabin of the Imperial shuttle. Each acolyte sat patiently, doing everything in their power to not intrude upon their neighbors, especially their master, who stood at the hind end of the passenger bay, eyes cold and perpetually staring toward the front of the vessel. Lorrik cautiously darted his gaze toward his fellows from time to time. Studying them. Preparing.
They continued to sit. Minutes passed. Maybe hours. The shuttle's cabin seemed to deprive the acolytes of their senses. The dim lights of the windowless passenger bay strained their eyes. The echo of the whirring engines resonated within their ears, until they noticed little more than the continuing vibrations against their heads. Lorrik looked to his partner who sat beside him, adopting his usual stiffened stance. Arms crossed, head dipped, eyes closed, Jresh showed no signs of discomfort or discontent. The same could not be said for the inquisitor. Uncomfortable. Restless. The Human stirred in his seat, none too content with the silence.
"So… this is it… isn't it?" Lorrik said to no one in particular. All eyes within the passenger bay fell upon the inquisitor. "The beginning of the end… of something anyways."
"Correct," Syrosk replied. "I can assure you all with confidence, you will not be the same acolytes you were this morning… should you return."
"Apprenticeship… or death," Lorrik offered.
"Correct again," Syrosk stoically admitted.
"Wonderful," Lorrik muttered. "So, do you truly have a plan for every possible outcome? I mean, I can't imagine none of us returning being beneficial to whatever it is you're planning."
The alien offered a stern arch of his brow. "Is that so? I take it that means you have an in-depth understanding of my plans?"
"Heh, absolutely not," Lorrik admitted. "To be fair, my prime motivator for getting back is alive is that hopefully the whole mysterious facade thing you've been keen on perpetrating was only for us 'lowly acolytes'."
Syrosk sharpened his gaze toward the wordy inquisitor. "And so long as you remain a 'lowly acolyte' I'd suggest you hold your tongue. I've no qualms about throwing you from this shuttle."
"Hey, that just means I'd land closer to the Academy than where you plan on dropping us off. I'd consider that an advantage," Lorrik explained.
"And what of your partner? Would you leave him by his lonesome in the midst of the other students?" Syrosk sternly asked.
Looking to his partner, Lorrik saw that Jresh remained stalwart in his stance, trying his hardest not to pay attention to the conversation. "I think he'd make it out okay. But then again, I'd rather stand by his side than get manhandled by a Sith Lord."
"Your knack for proper judgment astounds me," Syrosk sardonically stated.
"Hey, I figure there's a good chance I might die out there. May as well say my piece while I have the chance," Lorrik admitted.
"Few Sith readily accept their death as an inevitability," Syrosk plainly stated.
"The good ones do. The ones that don't rarely accomplish anything before they are cut down," Lorrik explained.
"Hmm," Syrosk muttered, neither showing a positive or negative response to Lorrik's words.
"So what made you decide that we were ready to advance?" Lorrik asked.
"Nothing. Then again, it's not me who decides. It you. Well, you and Korriban. I am not supplying the test, merely the parameters," Syrosk explained.
"What'll you be doing whilst we brave the return home?" Lorrik asked. "I don't suppose you set up monitoring equipment in the wastes."
"Nothing of the sort," Syrosk rasped. "A Sith Lord has ways of knowing what transpires within his dominion. But in reality, I need not know how you succeed, merely that you do so. In the meantime, I will be preparing for your further training."
"Assuming any of us return."
"Quite."
Lorrik had nothing further to add. He knew he would gain no more insight into his master or his future plans. Stirring in his seat, the inquisitor shifted his disheveled robes. Looking across the passenger bay, he found that the other students wouldn't dare be caught gazing upon him, turning their gaze as he lifted his head. Lorrik didn't know exactly what he had hoped to accomplish by breaking the silence. Maybe he simply wanted to see what would happen if he challenged Syrosk, though Lorrik knew himself incapable of anything more than the occasional venom from his barbed tongue. For all the time he spent training under the Sith Lord, the inquisitor knew him to be the epitome of inaction, directing with words rather than the back of his hand. And yet, Lorrik still feared him. Syrosk was knowledgeable, but physical manifestations of that knowledge were rarely seen.
Lorrik couldn't challenge Syrosk. Then again, he wasn't sure if he ever would want to. He wasn't a friend, nor an ally, nor a proper mentor. Simply yet another repository of knowledge. One that he had limited access to. One he had doubts regarding its bounty. But still Lorrik sought it. Knowledge. Guidance. Something deep within him knew there was more, and he could never turn away any source of secrets. And Lord Syrosk was definitely a source of secrets. Lorrik wanted answers. The typical answers as well as atypical. He wanted to know what Syrosk wanted with these eight students. Why he would risk losing them all at once. Why he chose warriors who chose inquisitors. Lorrik wanted to know his master's purpose, as well as his own. There was logic in his teachings, in his musings, in his actions. But the inquisitor had yet to crack the code. He couldn't stand not understanding it. Lorrik had easier times deciphering the lost histories of Sith Lords dead and forgotten. He could not leave his tutoring unfinished, nor questions unanswered. Lorrik had to succeed. Had to survive.
Taking a note from his companion, Lorrik tried his hardest to relax. Eventually, the inquisitor was able to match Jresh's meditations, drifting his psyche away from the burdens of his senses, of his mind. The inquisitor became absorbed in nothingness. In darkness. The void. Then a spark. Lorrik opened his eyes as a hand fell upon his shoulder. Looking up, he saw that he hand belonged to Jresh who was now standing in front of him. Turning his head, Lorrik saw that the passenger bay had emptied, and a light shone through the opened hatch.
"We're here, Lorrik," Jresh spoke up. Silently, the Human nodded his head. Raising himself from his seat, Lorrik walked behind his companion as the two joined with the other students outside the shuttle. The inquisitor began to rub his eyes, trying to gauge what had just occurred. He had entered a trance of sorts, time had shrunk to utter insignificance. He didn't know if it had been minutes or hours since his conversation with the Sith Lord.
Stepping off the shuttle, the pair made their way toward the group standing a short distance away, Lorrik trying especially hard not to unintentionally draw the attention of his fellows. Standing side by side in a line in front of their master as they were accustomed to, the acolytes were in a situation none too unfamiliar. However, instead of knowing that the sanctum of the Academy lay only a short trip behind them, they found themselves lost in the vast stretches of dusty plains and barren ridges that made up the unpopulated regions of Korriban.
"Students," Syrosk began. "Look around you. Take it in. You have the pleasure of being persons of significance by relativity. There is nothing around us. Mind that the nothingness doesn't consume you. You have your task. Make it back to the Academy alive, and become a full apprentice. Fail, and you will be forgotten like so many before you. The shuttle will head back to the Academy in a fairly straight line. That will be the last bit of guidance I can offer you as acolytes. Farewell, Kar'ai, Ryloh, Nesk, Vurt, Isorr, Arlia, Jresh, Lorrik. The moment you hear me say your name again, then you may consider yourself my apprentice."
Without another word, Syrosk made his way back onto the shuttle, not offering a single glance to any of the students as he passed them by. Slowly the acolytes turned and watched as the shuttle's hatch closed behind the Sith Lord. Gazing upon the vessel's ascension, they made careful note of its trajectory, as it would be their sole measure of guidance for the time being. As the shuttle slowly faded from the students' sight, they instead turned their attention to one another.
Each acolyte palming the hilt of their training sabers, the dusty air was tense with uncertainty. The line broken, the students has arranged themselves in a motley mob of pairings, each casting a discerning glare toward another. The soft whistles of the Korriban winds passing the landscape were the only sounds that could be heard. No words. No breathing. No heartbeats. No one was sure how to act. They had been given their task. Given their freedom. But none saw fit to waste it. Lorrik, breaking from the stillness, unhooked the saber from his belt. The others immediately tensed, seeing nothing more than the action without regards to manner or intent. Holding the saber in front of him, Lorrik remained for but a moment before setting the weapon softly on the ground in front of him.
"Everyone," Lorrik began, solemn in his tone. "I know that by no right should I be able to ask this of you. But please, before we begin, before we start the scheming, the backstabbing, the murder, I ask for a moment of your time."
The others looked to their partners for insight, but none could offer any. They could watch in silence as the Human knelt in front of his saber, the Pureblood standing beside him, arms ever crossed. In truth, none of them knew how to proceed. None of them knew what they wanted to accomplish this early in the trial. They granted the low inquisitor his audience.
"There is much about this that I do not know," Lorrik admitted. "I do know what has been asked of us. I do know that we do not all get along. I truly believe, however, that it would be in our best interest to work together."
There were intense mumblings between the other groups. What once were visages of uncertainty, began to shift into glares, grimaces, and other opinionated manifestations. But still, no true words came. It was only until Arlia stepped forth that the natural silence was broken.
"Surely, you cannot expect us to go along with that without a proper explanation," Arlia haughtily stated.
"Fair enough," Lorrik replied. "I am asking for cooperation. And not simply for this task, but for future trials as well. I know this is much to ask, but I've noticed a growing deal of peculiarities in regards to us, our training, and our master."
"Like?" Arlia asked.
"Like the fact that I believe that the reason we are out here, has nothing to do with us," Lorrik explained. The other acolytes remained silent, but kept their ears opened. "Do any of you believe there was any discernible point in our training that would prompt Syrosk to take things to the next level? Things have been a steady climb, but he never truly put us in danger. Everything he's done seems to be utterly calculated, but this, this seems like it was hastily arranged. And remember our first day of training? He said how we might become his apprentice in as little as one year. It's been a little over half that. And I doubt we've exceeded his expectations by that much."
"What are you suggesting?" Ryloh asked.
"Some outside force caused this. Or some reaction to an outside force," Lorrik explained. "I think something is driving Syrosk to expedite his teachings. Or maybe he needed us completely out of the way for a significant amount of time."
"But why?" Ryloh added.
"Something forced his to return to the Academy in the first place. Something prompted him to leave the battlefield and take on students. Some idea. Or some person," Lorrik explained.
"And how does this pertain to us?" Arlia asked.
Lorrik passed his gaze over each of his fellow acolytes. "Tell me, has anyone here ever felt like they weren't being controlled? During all your years of the Academy, you must have noticed it. We were being manipulated, driven toward something. Our teachings under the instructors, can you honestly say they fell in line with the Sith Code? Isorr, I know yourself to be an expert traditionalist. You know what I'm talking about."
All eyes turned toward the stern Zabrak.
"I'll admit, I thought the instructors merely incompetent," Isorr stated. "Since they lacked strict oversight, they were capable of straying from the code so long as they produced stronger subjects for Lords seeking apprentices."
"But we were lucky in getting out," Lorrik replied. "What of the others, who will never achieve apprenticeship. For all we know, us finding a master was a complete fluke. Completely out of our control. Syrosk chose us… well, chose the warriors, for a reason. He pulled us from the classrooms, so that we might receive proper training. He freed us from whatever intent the instructors possessed, but now we submit to his."
"What does this have to do with working together?" Kar'ai asked.
Lorrik took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "I have questions. We have questions. And we all deserve some answers. Answers we can't get if we're dead."
"So we all work together. All make it back to the Academy. And what? Force Syrosk to answer our questions?" Arlia asked, disbelievingly.
"We can't force anything out of him, but as his apprentices, we'll be privy to more information than as mere acolytes," Lorrik explained. "And with eight of us, we'll have leverage, so long as we can agree to put aside our differences and not sabotage one another until we know our place, our real place, in the chaotic hierarchy that this Academy is perpetrating."
"And after we have our answers? We go back to regular Sith relationships?" Arlia asked.
"We've already tolerated and thrived alongside the presence of a second. Think about it, would any of you be the same if you had never entered the company of your companion? Would any of you be better off? You know the benefits of aiding one another, of challenging one another, of pushing each other forward. Think of what we could accomplish if we did the same, as eight acolytes. As eight apprentices. Think about it. Arlia, I shared a datacard with you, and you in turn shared it with Isorr, and allow it to pass between the other groups. In the end, we all were able to harness the power of Force lightning in some form, when previously we didn't even think it possible. We have grown more powerful. And yet we still continue to fight, as we should. We simply need to admit that we affect one another to such a degree that we needn't dispose of each other until the full benefits of our interactions can be partaken in."
"Cooperative antagonism," Arlia softly recited.
Isorr looked to his partner, a confused look upon his face. "Arlia?"
"As much as I'd hate to admit it, he has a point," Arlia admitted. "At this point in our training, any one of us would be at the mercy of Syrosk should his intentions lie towards our detriment. I don't know if we're capable of actively helping one another, but we can agree to put aside our differences until we know who or what is manipulating us."
"That 'who or what' right now, is him!" Isorr shouted, jutting a stern finger toward the Human. "How do we know this all isn't a trick to get us to play nice. To promise to not to kill him until he can return to the safety of the Academy. He is an inquisitor. What would you do Arlia? Would you risk traveling amongst the Korriban wastes with six people who hate you? Or would you try and gain their trust."
"I understand if you-" Lorrik tried to speak.
"Shut up!" Isorr interrupted. "Besides, even if we cooperated, Syrosk said that our water ration are unlikely to sustain a single acolyte. Whether we like it or not, we will be forced to fight, to take one another's water to survive."
Lorrik lowered himself to his knees. "That is… correct. Unless… we had more than one canister each."
The other students watched as the kneeling acolyte began shedding his outer layers of clothing.
"You'll remember I was rather late in arriving to the shuttle. There were some extra supplies I needed to procure."
Taking off his outer coat, Lorrik reveal that beneath he still had a full set of robes encompassing his body. Slipping his arms through the extra coat, the Human removed it and placed it flat in front of him beside his saber. Stitched into the fabric, rest eight cylinders wrapped in cloth so as to muffle any errant sounds they might have produced through contact. Retrieving two of the containers, Lorrik promptly handed them to Jresh who still remained silent.
"There is now enough water for all of us to make the return trip to the Academy, as long as we ration it and remember to maintain control of our bodies," Lorrik explained.
"Did Syrosk give us permission to bring extra water?" Ryloh asked.
"Now is the time we obsess over rules?" Lorrik joked.
Isorr cast a stern glare over the additional supplies. "How do we know you haven't poisoned those canisters?"
"You don't," Lorrik promptly admitted. "That's why I'm asking you all to trust me. That's why I'm relying only on my words instead of trying to get Jresh to convince you. Can I count on you all? I will lend my knowledge and my aid, and in return, we make the journey home. Together. So that we may all live to see our potentials fulfilled. Who is with me?"
The acolytes looked to one another, seeking answers in their companions.
"We're with you," Kar'ai stated, Ryloh nodding his head beside her.
Arlia supplied a jocular shrug. "Sure, why not?"
"Fine," Isorr muttered, shooting his partner a quick glare.
The acolytes turned to the beastly pair that had remained relatively silent throughout the proceedings. The Trandoshan and Nikto looked upon the Human with mutual trepidation. They looked to one another, but found no insight in each other's expressions. Then, unanimously, they offered an affirmative nod toward Lorrik.
"Excellent," Lorrik said with a smile. "Jresh, remember which way the shuttle went?"
"Yes. I also measured the time it took to arrive here from the Academy," Jresh explained. "Comparing that with the atmospheric velocity of the shuttle, I have a reasonable estimate to how far we must travel before we are home."
"Since when do you know about starships?" Lorrik asked with a baffling curiosity.
"You have your hobbies. I decided to take an interest in astromechanics," Jresh admitted.
"Really? Huh," Lorrik muttered with a positive understanding.
"It'll take at least four days travel on foot to return. Longer if we encounter substantive obstacles," Jresh explained.
"Can we make two canteens last that long?" Lorrik asked.
"Most likely," Jresh answered.
"Most likely," Lorrik repeated, slowly nodding his head. "Well then… let's get started."