Chapter Seven: Promises

The eight acolytes sat in a motley gathering upon the warmly lit dirt. A couple of tuk'ata lay harvested a short distance away, out of general sensory range. A small strip of meat lay floating directly in front of Lorrik's concentrated gaze, his mind holding it as his hand held a fully ignited hand torch.

Passing the flame under the meat at regular intervals the piece slowly but surely darkened as it cooked. Across from the chef, other partook in the bits and pieces he had previously tended to. As Arlia took a bite of her gifted strip, her face offered something far from delight as a response. Luckily, it was just as far from disgust.

"Magic, eh?" Arlia prodded the still focused Lorrik.

"I may… have overestimated my ability to cook with such limited tools," the Human cautiously admitted, never taking his eyes or focus off his cooking. "Yours turn out okay Jresh?"

"No complaints," Jresh immediately admitted as he tore into his allotment of food.

To his left, Nesk and Vurt seemed more than content with Lorrik's treatment of their bounty. The others found a genuinely sweet respite from their horrendously distasteful rations. Finishing his own piece last, Lorrik waited hardly a moment before taking a bite of his strip of meat.

Chewing, savoring the meal, the inquisitor found himself in the most peaceful of states since the last few days, since before the long journey home had even began. Tuk'ata meat wasn't the best cooking material even with a proper kitchen. But this wasn't a matter of taste. It wasn't a matter of food. It was a matter of fulfillment. Lorrik. Of satisfaction. Of achievement. Lorrik. Of recognizing the beauty of something from nothing.

"Lorrik!"

Looking up, the Human saw the other seven acolytes staring him down. Silent. Baring expressions ranging from judgment to concern.

"Huh?" Lorrik confusingly muttered.

"You okay?" Ryloh offered. "You seemed out of it for a moment. Thought you might have ingested something poisonous."

"No, no. I'm fine," Lorrik bashfully answered.

"Good, didn't exactly need or want to have second thought about this meal," Kar'ai emphatically stated.

"Good to have something so basic. Just meat plus fire equals food. None of that artificial nonsense," Arlia declared.

"Actually, the tuk'ata exist because of Sith alchemy," Lorrik explained. "What species they were based from, I don't know, but they aren't exactly natural. Well, I guess that depends on how natural you think dark side influence is."

"I said I didn't need second thoughts about this meal," Kar'ai restated, unamused.

"Don't worry, all the poisonous bits are along the skull and back," Lorrik nonchalantly informed. "Get deep enough below the hide and it should be safe to eat."

"Should be?" Ryloh and Kar'ai exclaimed in unison.

"Most of what's left living in Korriban has been touched by the dark side or the Sith, and they are forced to compete and feed off one another," Lorrik explained. "Whatever toxins or taints exist within their prey, they endure it to ensure their own survival. The disparity between strength and weakness isn't getting enough to eat, it's enduring indigestion."

"Somewhere along the line, I think your metaphor lost traction," Arlia admitted.

"Oh, was I making a metaphor?" Lorrik playfully asked.

"It's true, the situation the Academy tries to develop for its students isn't wholly unique," Ryloh offered.

Lorrik supplied a confident nod. "It's found in nature. Granted, in nature the Sith fostered, but found nonetheless."

"Man points how creatures must compete amongst dire circumstances to survive and become strong, the day after he proposes an agreement of cooperation," Arlia said with a bemused chuckle.

"I think my point stands," Lorrik admitted. "The Academy tried to tell us we're all completely separate entities. Completely independent from one another. Completely isolated. These tuk'ata weren't competing with each other. They ran as a pack."

"And they lost," Isorr lowly muttered.

"To a superior force," Lorrik replied. "Any one of us most likely would have been overrun if we faced the pack alone. And these are the lesser of their kind. The tuk'ata that stalk the wastes have lost much of what their Sith masters had instilled in them. They are force sensitive. Semi-sentient. Some are capable of speech, or living more than a century. You get a pack of the breed Sith Lords use to guard their tombs, you have a force to be reckoned with."

"And you didn't know they'd respond to a Human in pain?" Arlia joked.

"Doing a lot of overestimation this morning, I'll readily admit as much," Lorrik plainly offered.

"If I regret this meal hours from now, this alliance is over," Arlia half-jokingly stated.

"I would never knowingly do anything to harm any one of us. I promise."

In the grand lecture hall nestled deep within the Academy lower extremities, the entirety of eight classrooms worth of students gathered amongst the stony arrangements that surrounded the empty dais in the center of the room. Where once Isorr and Jresh had sought their partners under Lord Syrosk, the mass of acolytes that failed to or didn't want to meet their approval sat with growing trepidation. Entire classes of inquisitors and warriors gathered in the same place, with their instructors situated in the row nearest the speaker's platform.

None had witnessed such a feat. None had any clue as to what could prompt such a gathering. Each student saw others they had only caught brief glimpses of when classes would occasionally share a sparring space. Each student gazed upon the full roster of the remaining warriors and inquisitors that remained within the ring. The subtle murmurs and chatters between the young adults of various species and creeds echoed throughout the circular chamber as their voices carried and bounced off the solid surfaces that surrounded them. All the while, their instructors sat below them, paying no attention to their lessers, offering nothing tantamount to instruction or guidance. Merely the slow meaningless passage of time. Until meaning presented itself as it passed through the chamber's entrance.

There was no clamorous entrance, no booming intrusion, no sweeping of doors. Merely the contained essence of a Darth entering the threshold of the lecture hall. The audible musings and conversations between students immediately ceased. For the first time, they were in the presence of true power. Tucked away in the forgotten halls, they only had themselves as company. No Council members graced their presence on their way to their chambers. No powerful Lords came to them directly. In their minds, that was the standard. An orchestrated existence years in the making. And amongst them now walked its orchestrator.

Slowly, Darth Tash made his way to the central area below. With each conservative step, the students that sat nearby basked in his aura. As time went on, the acolytes gained greater and greater comprehension of the elder Human's strength. Where one could expect frailty, they saw only vitality. Where one could expect weakness, they only felt raw power. Where one could expect a distanced superiority, they sensed an odd consideration. The acolytes could not distinguish whether they were there for him, or whether he was there for them. Taking his spot upon the slightly raised dais, the entirety of his surroundings focused on his presence. The students. The instructors. The room's fixtures themselves.

"Esteemed students of the Korriban Academy," Tash began, his voice penetrating the ear of every inhabitant. "Warriors. Inquisitors. Acolytes. You have toiled for years under the assumption that you may one day become true Sith. You have not been misled. Within each of you rests the potential. The potential for strength. The potential for knowledge. The potential to unlock the secrets of the Force! And after so long, you toiling has not gone unnoticed. I am Darth Tash. The man who single-handedly won the Battle over Dantooine. The man who drove back the Republic with the Nebulae Campaign. The man who has commanded squads… companies… battalions… in the service of the Emperor! Through my guidance, Imperials have achieved greatness. Mere soldiers turned into commanders. Officers turned into Moffs. I now seek to offer my expertise to you my young Sith. Your instructors have put you on the path… the path toward true power. I will walk amongst you down that path. To shepherd you into the darkness. Through the darkness. There, you will learn to master it. There, you will learn to control the Force.

As enraptured by the speech the impressionable acolytes were, their attention was interrupted by the intrusion of a new party. From the entrance, a dark figure appeared and began to make his way toward the platform. It was Lord Syrosk.

"We're in a situation we couldn't have prepared for," Lorrik admitted. "There are forces at work beyond our knowledge. Beyond our understanding. We don't have all the answers, and to be honest, there's a chance we never will. But if we don't cooperate, we'll eventually succumb to whomever hides those answers."

As Lord Syrosk made his way to the stationary Darth Tash, the once silent hall resumed its previous murmurings. Where one would expect outrage, the Darth remained utterly calm and collected despite the intrusion. When Syrosk had make it to the floor level, he had reached his point of confrontation.

"It is unwise to promise that which you cannot provide, Tash," Syrosk offered with his usual rasp.

"I shan't disagree with you Syrosk. Fortunately, I have yet to overstate what I can provide these acolytes," Tash replied, unhesitant to banter with the intruder. The alien fast approached the Darth upon the dais. Directly facing one another, Tash now stood a head higher than his opponent.

"What is it you hope to accomplish?" Syrosk harshly whispered. "Hmm? There are better ways to raise an army."

"You poor, insolent, fool," Tash whispered back. "You still believe that I desire an army."

"I am certain we can survive this," Lorrik continued. "I am certain we'll come out of this venture ahead. Look at how we perform when we point our skills toward a common goal. Effortlessly defeating a pack of tuk'ata. We've bolstered our reserve of resources. There will never be a shortage of struggles in this world. In this galaxy. We needn't keep one another down to achieve greatness."

"This man!" Tash turned his attention to the gathered students. "He has already taken a number of students from your ranks. He has sought to remove them from the Academy before they were ready. To distill that which they have earned within these halls. To remove the teachings of your instructors. Is the kind of master you would offer yourself to? One who would disregard Sith tenets… and to what avail?"

"You've revealed your incompetence. You've no knowledge of this Academy or its workings," Syrosk rasped. "You have been fighting and killing for personal glory, not for the sake of the Empire. I've successfully trained eight remarkable students. Taken them away from the indoctrinating succor of the instructors. I have given them true strength. That which these classrooms cannot provide."

"We've been given a specific toolset," Lorrik explained. "By the Academy. By Lord Syrosk. We are capable of great deeds as individuals. As a team, who knows our limits? We were brought here for a reason. We were chosen by Syrosk, for a reason. We chose each other, for a reason. We're beyond the point of taking whatever our superiors graciously provide. We are at the point of self-providence."

"And what exactly are your students capable of?" Tash brazenly asked.

"These acolytes are aware of their strength. Of their deeds," Syrosk explained. "One of mine single handedly defeated a number of acolytes, mangling one's hand in such a way that it hasn't recovered in six months."

"You have merely capitalized upon the instructions provided within these halls," Tash replied. "I am capable to doing the same. And to a much, much greater degree."

"I…" Syrosk rasped before stopping in his tracks. He found himself incapable of speaking. Incapable of moving.

"You've been gone from the battlefield far too long, Syrosk," Tash taunted, not even directly focusing his attention on the shivering Sith Lord. "You've become lax. Become content with your little group of acolytes. You've trained them at the expense of yourself. At the expense of your own power. Can you consider that strength? Can any of you consider that strength?" The gathered acolytes watched with amazement as Darth Tash dominated the man they had last since believed their true superior. A grimace wiped over Lord Syrosk's face as he struggled to combat the dark lord's oppressive force. Bending slightly down, the Darth now stood with his face even with his captive, and began to softly whisper. "Surely, you must have seen this coming."

"There is greatness within each of us. But there is also a uniqueness we cannot abandon," Lorrik advised. "I will never stand at the same level as Jresh on some grounds. He will never match a specific set of skills I possess. None of us will hunt as well as Nesk. Focus as well as Vurt. Fight as well as Kar'ai. Strive as well as Ryloh. Adapt as well as Arlia. Believe as well as Isorr."

"Now… kneel," Darth Tash commanded. Syrosk cringed as he felt a new wave of telekinetic force press down upon him. He continued to fight. Continued to resist. His feet remained adamantly planted. But only for the moment.

"We will trip. We will fall. We will be beaten. It take strength to fight on through the pain, through the oppression, through the sorrow. But it takes even more strength to offer your hand to a fellow."

Slowly, Lord Syrosk began to bend. Began to crumble under the pressure. Lower, and lower his head fell. His fists and teeth clenched with rage, the alien found no release, no proper defending against the onslaught. Eventually, he yielded to the dark lord. His arm upon a knee, the other upon the cold floor of the lecture hall, Lord Syrosk had succumbed to Darth Tash's will. A concern rose within the fallen Lord's eyes as they darted from the Human's boots to the floor, to wherever he could land them.

"You're as weak as your master." Tash whispered as he returned his attention to the gathered acolytes, his arms raised in triumph.

Syrosk offered a silent curse before storming out of the hall.

"This man was able to produce students of admittedly admirable capabilities, whilst prying them from their instructors," Tash continued. "Imagine what greatness I could bestow upon you all, should you finish your instruction. I can offer something much greater than mere apprenticeship."

"Our time is coming."

"Your time is coming."

"Together, we can achieve greatness."

"Together, we can achieve greatness."

"I promise you…"

"I promise you…"