Chapter Five: Intentions
The eight acolytes steadily walked across the vast expanse of desolateness that stretched around them. Dried lands. Dread lands. There was nothing of significance to be seen in any direction. However, none were sure of the danger that rest beyond the limited scope of their eyes. Though seemingly unpopulated, the area was not without its share of details. Rising from the barren terrain were a number of mountains, hills, and ridges that threatened to impede the students. Korriban's surface was naturally jagged, a place of harshness mirroring its inhabitants.
Keeping to a straight line, the acolytes were forced to overcome numerous changes in elevation, carefully ascending and descending the crackling slopes that lied before them. Occasionally, one student would lose their footing, momentarily forcing them to catch themselves against the orange rock that rest beneath their feet. The acolyte would stumble, then recover, with none of the others batting an eye of concern. They knew these hills were the least of their concern. Paying them any amount of attention would speak worse of themselves rather than the obstacles.
The Korriban sun slow began to lower itself from the sky. Falling ever so slowly, the acolytes' shadows steadily grew and elongated beside them as they continued their venture. The day was growing short as the light and heat slowly abandoned the acolytes. They had walked for hours, showing no signs of hunger nor thirst, marching with the intensity and integrity expected of a Sith. Hours more passed by, the sun dipping below the peak of a distant mountain ridge, leaving only a dimly orange haze in the place of natural lighting. As their surroundings grew ever darker and a chilled howl emerged a great distance away, the acolytes agreed that it was time to rest.
The students stopped as they reached a crescent shaped ridge jutting from the ground. With little in the way of supplies, there was not much to be done in the way dressing up the site. As the darkness of night began to envelope the group, Lorrik retrieved the hand torch from Jresh's pack. Digging a small hole in the ground, the Human activated the torch before securing it in its impromptu emplacement. On a low burn, the bit of technology offered a source of light for the acolytes to gather around. Sitting around the shimmering flame, the students lost themselves to their own thoughts.
"Are we sure the light won't attract any creatures?" Isorr sternly asked Lorrik.
"Any prowling hound could find us with or without the flame," Lorrik half-answered. "In the dead of night, they'd be more confident in trying to pick us off one by one."
"Fair enough," Isorr muttered.
"There really isn't much more we can do at this point," Lorrik admitted. "Eat some of your rations if you have them and attempt to get some sleep."
"Are we sure the rations won't attract any creatures?" Arlia asked.
"Honestly, they might repel them," Lorrik joked.
The four acolytes possessing edibles retrieved them from their robes, carefully unwrapping the bricks of murky, solid paste. Tearing off a bit of a corner, Arlia hesitantly placed the material into her mouth. The immediate wince upon her face detailed the ration's putrid taste. The others followed with similar results, fighting to keep down whatever they attempted to consume.
"How can you tell if these things are expired?" Ryloh curiously asked.
"Well, they supposedly have a shelf life of twenty years," Lorrik explained.
"An alchemist is behind this… I'm sure of it," Kar'ai stated through flared nostrils. Prompting a few chuckles, the foodless acolytes took a careful sip from their canteens. With no interest in further banter, the students finished their brief meals before placing their backs to the ridge. Far from a huddle, but the acolytes did arrange themselves in a relatively concise arrangement utilizing the bastion of the rocks behind them. No blankets. No pillows. The students merely laid upon the cold hard ground with nothing more than their robes acting as a cushion. Eventually, the eight drifted into a state of slumber, many of them clutching their sabers should the need to defend themselves arise.
As Lorrik closed his eyes, he traded one darkness for another. The blankness of his eyelids, however, soon turned into a dreamscape. Lorrik found himself standing in the middle of a barren field. Orange rock with only the faintest layer of dust and sand laying upon it. The field stretched endlessly in every direction, no changes in elevation to be seen. Only the vast flatness in the still of the night. Darkness surrounded Lorrik as readily as the harsh terrain, only the soft luminance of the stars above offering their gentle solace. Though he stood in his usual attire, he found himself metaphorically naked, no weapons by his side.
Before he could even begin to get a grasp of the situation, Lorrik heard a sharp crack emanate behind him. Distant, the inquisitor quickly turned to see no apparent source. Again the sound repeated, like the chipping of rock, this time to his left. Turning to face the noise, Lorrik found nothing. Another noise, this time the harsh scratching of blade against stone resonated behind him, louder than ever. Searching for the source, Lorrik caught only the frightening glance of a red blur escaping his vision. Trying to follow the blur proved folly as the inquisitor found himself despairing over his isolation. Nothing was there. Something was there. Haunting him. Lorrik thought to move, but his feet refused to move, except to only turn upon his heels one final time. Facing a new direction, he found the beast of crimson upon him. As much as time could freeze, it could not prevent the raking of the beast's claws across the Human's chest. Lorrik fell, and as his face touched the ground, he rose.
Shooting up from his prone position, Lorrik found only the light of the hand torch occupying his view. Awaking from his dream, he rubbed his face as he came to his senses. Looking around the camp site, the Human saw the other acolytes sound asleep. Six of them. Ryloh was missing. Carefully rising, Lorrik tried his hardest not to wake any of the slumbering Sith. Looking outward, the inquisitor saw a softly golden glow upon the ground a short distance away from the camp. Venturing forth, Lorrik carefully shuffled upon the coarse ground in as stealthy a fashion as he was capable of.
Walking amongst the shadows between the two sources of light, Lorrik saw the outline of a kneeling figure between him and the golden glow. Cautiously approaching, more and more details became apparent to the Human. It was definitely Ryloh, and the light came from the ignited training saber that lay in front of him.
"Ryloh…" Lorrik whispered, trying to get the Twi'lek's attention.
"Lorrik… Can't sleep either?" Ryloh replied without moving from his spot. Standing beside the kneeling figure, Lorrik saw that the fellow inquisitor knelt with his hands neatly placed upon his lap, his gaze gently affixed on the darkness beyond.
"I guess you could say that. What are you doing out here?" Lorrik asked, a softness to his voice.
"I've asked myself the same thing," Ryloh somberly replied. Unhooking the saber from his belt, Lorrik placed it next to Ryloh's before kneeling by his side. "It's strange, you know, seeing you taking control of the group."
"I don't know if I'd consider it taking control," Lorrik abashedly stated.
"You did something I thought impossible," Ryloh admitted. "Outside the confines of the Academy. All eight of us. No rules. Only the singular objective of making it back. And you managed to keep us all from killing each other."
"Well, it's only been a single day," Lorrik joked.
"I've been watching you," Ryloh warmly stated. "You've come a long way."
"I suppose that's a compliment."
"I don't mean since we've begun training under Syrosk," Ryloh explained. "Lorrik Velash. Student of class two. Friend of Jora Dynn. Enemy of Ornell Barath. Otherwise un-confrontational with fellow students. High marks in academics, but low in physical trials. Obviously some things have changed in six months."
"You're… quite the observer," Lorrik stated, somewhat astounded.
"It's what I'm best at," Ryloh replied with a softened chuckle. "It's how I got through my early years of training. Watch. Listen. Observe. React accordingly."
"I can relate," Lorrik admitted. "I could never count on physical superiority, and I never had the cutthroat mentality of other inquisitors."
"But you were at least personable," Ryloh offered. "As much grief as the others might give you for your talking, you knew enough about how people work. Entering agreements… offering trades and barters, all without the connotations of conniving manipulation. I wasn't capable of that. I kept to the shadows, hidden out of sight. Both metaphorically and literally. I isolated myself." Ryloh's head sunk as his voice eventually faded.
The Human forced a smile. "At least things seem to have changed."
"And it seems some changes are still ahead," Ryloh stated with no variance from his previous tone.
"Does that bother you?"
"In some ways… yes. Can I be honest with you for a moment?" Ryloh softly asked.
"Of course."
"The fact that I'm even sitting here right now is an accident," Ryloh admitted. Lorrik offered a curious glance to the Twi'lek. "You remember that first day, Syrosk didn't pick us, the warriors did. Nesk and Kar'ai were fielding potential partners in the dueling area, having us fight each other for their approval. Vurt managed to catch Nesk's eye. As Kar'ai watched students duel, I did as well. I wanted nothing to do with it, but I had every intention of understanding what exactly was going on. Then, some classmates managed to push me into the circle. I dueled, lest I draw the attention fleeing would entail. Defended myself. Managed to edge out a victory. Nothing showy. Nothing above and beyond my peers. Yet, for some insane reason, Kar'ai picked me as her partner. At first, I thought she wanted me as a trophy, a pet, or someone to make her look even better. But that couldn't be further from reality."
"She was accepting of Syrosk's arrangement?" Lorrik asked.
"More than accepting. She pushed me to be better. To strive. To accomplish. I had no ambition, no desire to rise above the others. I just wanted to get by. Get out of this Academy alive. I still intend on surviving, but she taught me to want something more. She taught me to take control of my own life. Follow my own destiny. And I'm eternally thankful for that. For her. Now, we're more than allies. More than partners. But… my mind is plagued with concern."
"What concerns you? The idea of attachment?"
"No. She provides me emotion. Passion. Strength. She's the very reason I might stand to call myself a Sith. No, my concern lies with our teachings. Our master. This Academy."
"You're not alone. I can assure you when we return, we'll get some answers," Lorrik explained.
"My entire stay here… answers were the only thing I ever wanted. Now… now, I'm not so sure. I'm scared of what those answers might be."
Lorrik eyes narrowed as he maintained his gaze upon the reticent Twi'lek. "Are you afraid of what Syrosk has planned for us?"
"It's much more than that. There's more amiss than our master's intentions," Ryloh explained. The Human arched his brow before leaning in.
"Tell me more," Lorrik whispered.
"We've been manipulated. Lied to. Misdirected. And not by Syrosk. At least, not solely by him. In all my years of watching and listening for every bit of absorbable information, I came across… contradictions. I thought it was all a part of the process. Just throw misinformation at the students, see what sticks, judge them on it. But now, I'm not so sure. This Academy and its instructors… they've been controlling us. And we freed ourselves from them only to fall under Syrosk's control."
"We'll earn our freedom in time. I'm sure of it," Lorrik emphatically stated.
"Will we? Should we?" Ryloh asked, less enthused. "Would we truly be better off given complete control of our lives? The Academy was driving us toward something. Syrosk is driving us toward something. I was born a slave. I considered myself somewhat free within the halls of the Academy. I was merely isolated. Cut off from those stronger and weaker than I. Stagnant. And eventually my luck of getting by would run out. Kar'ai taught me to take control, but in order to do that I had to freely offer it to her first. She's given me something more than I ever could have attained were I free. I thank her for it. I admire her for it. I love her for it."
"What are you trying to say?"
"Control and freedom take many forms, each holding positive and negative outcomes. Whilst under the tutelage of the class instructors, our progress waned. Under Syrosk, it has been bolstered beyond what we thought possible."
"But how much can we credit Syrosk with our success? Much of the time we'd receive a short lesson and he'd send us on our way. We've accomplished much without our master's intervention."
"Have we? Maybe this is all a part of his plan. All a part of his style. Freedom is an illusion for all but the most powerful Sith. We should focus on making the most of our controller rather than needlessly lash out at what we see as oppression. I know you want answers. I do too. But he is an asset we cannot dismiss. There's a chance all this is for our benefit."
"You truly believe so?"
Ryloh released a soft sigh. "Think about it. When was the last time Syrosk seemed surprised by anything? He is meticulous in his plans. He knew what thoughts would pass through our heads out here. You think he'd send us out here without knowing the outcome? In whatever manner we return, he will undoubtedly expect it. Even out of reach, out of sight, he is guiding us."
"The question is whether his intentions are entirely selfish."
"There were many things he could have done differently. He pulled us from the Academy classrooms. We would have worshiped him, treated him as our all-powerful savior had he cultivated that mentality. But he didn't. He's given us a taste of freedom. He's given us time to think. He's given us the opportunity to rebel. He has every intention to influence our paths, but I believe that we walk a path worth following."
"You think he's actively working toward our benefit?" Lorrik asked.
"Isn't that what you're trying to do?"
"I suppose you're right. And I suppose there's room for dissenting thought outside the ranks of unruly acolytes," Lorrik stated with a smile. Gently, the Human rose from his knees and re-hooked his saber to his belt.
"Thanks for listening," Ryloh gratefully stated.
"No problem. Try and get some sleep. Or at least head back to the campsite. Wouldn't want you to get picked off by a hound."
"I suppose you're right."
Together, the two acolytes walked amongst the quiet darkness back to the lambent flicker of the still-burning torch that the others surrounded in their slumberous state.