Chapter Eighteen: Options

As the Human attendant disappeared into whatever recesses lay beside the banquet hall, Lord Syrosk gently held the glass of brandy within his clawed hand.

"It's a shame a shame Zellos lost Bothawui… makes it hard to get your hands on this kind of brandy," Syrosk nonchalantly muttered.

Isorr's nostrils flared, a heated dissatisfaction brewing within him. "So… that's it? You tell us we've wasted years of our lives in service to people who couldn't care less about our existence, and we're supposed to feel better because you've so graciously decided to become our mentor. Give us some fancy new robes… give us food when we're hungry…"

"This is Korriban," Syrosk reminded with a raspy chuckle. "Your superiors couldn't care less about your existence regardless of your social standing. The Jedi train their young to keep the peace. The Sith train their young to keep the war. You were merely taken advantage of as a collective rather than an individual. Acolytes aren't destined for greatness. Acolytes aren't respected. They're expected to fight. They're expected to lash out and kill each other until only the strongest remain. I wasn't lying when I said you were nothing when we began our training. Honestly, even the bastardized teachings of Tash's instructors couldn't have concealed the nature of succession from you all. Were you expecting to walk out of this Academy with your head held high? Your fellows would snap your neck to prevent such a luxury."

Entering from the side door, the attendant wheeled in a multi-tiered dolly bearing eight concealed dishes. Only the metallic clinks of utensils and trays permeated the room as the students and their master waited in silence. One by one, the apprentices had a covered dish placed in front of them, until all eight had been served. Lord Syrosk's placemat, however, remained bare.

"Aren't you eating?" Kar'ai asked her master.

"Oh, no. I've already eaten," Syrosk quickly answered.

"Makes sense… Bothan Brandy is typically a post-meal drink," Lorrik muttered, his voice utterly lacking emotion or care as he stoically eyed his plate. The others offered the peculiar Human a curious look before turning back to their dishes. As the students removed the covers from their plates, they revealed the steamy succulence of a warm meal. A hearty slab of meat, obviously from off-world, cooked and seasoned to near perfection, coupled with vegetation none of the students had laid eyes on in all their years on Korriban. Suddenly, a fire lighted in Lorrik's eyes. "Where did this food come from?"

"There are perks to being a Sith Lord," Syrosk explained.

"Even an alien one?" Ryloh asked.

"It helps if no one informs the chefs of which Sith Lord they are cooking for. Isn't that right?" Syrosk loudly rasped as he shot a cold glare toward the attendant who froze in fear. In silence, the Imperial bowed out of the hall. "Well, go on. Eat."

Arlia hesitantly stared at her food. "When everyone but the host eats, it just screams of poison."

"The purpose of this meal is to reinvigorate you all," Syrosk explained. "The lesson in which I poison you all will only come when you are at full strength."

Ryloh and Lorrik stirred in their seats at their master's words.

As each apprentice hesitantly took their first bite, they soon found themselves unable to resist its tender call. Gone were any reservations of caution or decorum as the students tore into their meals. No longer did thoughts of their past plague their minds. No longer did the troubles of the future seep in. They were only aware of the present, and this food was definitely a present to be cherished.

The students ate as their master watched in silence. The meals, while sizable, couldn't hope to last against the appetites of eight hungry Sith. Their plates wiped clean, the apprentices leaned back with an inner satisfaction unfamiliar to them. Their bodies had been tended to, only their minds required sustenance.

"So," Lorrik spoke up. "Where do we go from here? I mean, this Academy, this mysterious Darth… there's so many questions we don't have answers to."

"As my apprentices, you'll be privy to whatever knowledge I can acquire with my various skills. That knowledge will not materialize overnight, but in the meantime, I will train you to be Sith, with all the strength and freedom that ought to come with it. Now, on the topic of freedom…" Syrosk trailed off as he reached into inner folds of his robes. His hands emerges bearing eight envelopes, which he handed to his neighboring students. "There is one package for each of you."

"Are we allowed to open them now?" Ryloh asked.

"That's not for me to decide," Syrosk plainly stated.

"What's inside of them?" Lorrik asked.

"Freedom," Syrosk answered. The students unsurely eyed their envelopes with confusion. "Literally. Not as some abstract, not as some mental test. Within each you will find a ticket off world and enough credits to take you wherever you want to go. You can leave the Sith, the Empire, and my teachings behind. You can walk your own path as a Sith outside the halls of this Academy. You all know that as Sith, true freedom will always be just beyond your reach. Until you're at the top, there will always be someone above you trying to impose their will upon you. At this point, you stand in a unique position to just walk away. You've no ties to the Academy. You're of no interest to Darth Tash so long as you don't interfere with his plans. You're not considered a lost asset by the Empire nor the Sith. Much of your lives have been controlled by covert, and sometimes overt, manipulations. When I sent you out into the wastes, I said I had plans no matter how many of you returned. That still holds true. I grant you the freedom to go your own way should you choose to do so. If you wish to remain one of my apprentices, then meet me atop the usual ridge at midday tomorrow. Dismissed."

Without another word, Syrosk raised from his seat and removed himself from the banquet hall. The students looked at their envelopes with uncertainty. No looks between apprentices, no looks between partners, merely the unceasing stare at the physical manifestation of their freedom.

"What should we do?" Ryloh asked his fellows.

"What 'we'?" Arlia replied. "We survived the wastes together, but this… this isn't a group decision. We've each been given something. Something we each have to decide how to use."

"If we stay, we're inevitably going to have to go against Darth Tash," Kar'ai stated. "Do we honestly understand what that means? The man was able to commandeer an entire wing of the Academy for his personal use, and keep the rest of it relatively in the dark."

"For all we know this is all a fabrication of Syrosk's design," Isorr spoke up. "A Sith Lord's a Sith Lord. You don't get that way doing favors for those below you."

The Rattataki eyed her envelope, gently scratching her chin. "We've all got our options outside the Academy. Nesk could probably take over any Trandoshan hunting clan he wanted to. Vurt could become a contract killer. Isorr and I could transfer to a less prestigious institution and practically dominate the competition. And there's always a place in the galaxy for handsome and beautiful Twi'leks. Lorrik's a Human so he could ingratiate himself anywhere he pleases. And I doubt Jresh couldn't find a proper place within the Empire."

"So you're contemplating leaving?" Arlia asked.

"I'm just listing our options," Kar'ai explained. "We can all go our own ways. But you have to admit we've done some pretty amazing things together."

Ryloh passed his gaze over to the Human and Pureblood. "Lorrik? Jresh? You two have been unusually quiet."

"I'm not one to quit something I've started," Jresh admitted. "And I can think of no greater challenge than going up against a Darth."

"That's for sure," Isorr added.

"Lorrik?" Ryloh tried again. The Human refused to rend his gaze from the envelope.

"Since before I ever stepped foot in this Academy… the only thing I desired was freedom," Lorrik stated. "Everything I've done, everything I've studied… has been to see that desire fulfilled. All those years I thought I was progressing toward that goal, it was all just the elaborate ruse of some unseen Darth. For the first time in my life, I hold some semblance of control over the direction of my life."

The students began to rise from their seats and make their ways back to their apartments, until only Lorrik and Jresh remained in the banquet hall.

Gently, the Pureblood placed a hand on his companion's shoulder. "I know how important it is to you, your freedom. I'll not see any notions of Sith pride or anything of the like stand in your way if that is your desire. Whatever you choose to do, know that I will not stand in your way."

"Why were you in the classrooms… with the rest of us?" Lorrik stoically asked of his partner. Removing his hand, Jresh stared at the Human who had not yet shifted his forward gaze. "There is something wrong with all of us. Some flaw that prevented us from proper admission into the Academy. Aliens. Slaves. Not you. I've seen your body. I'd recognize a brand. You see this?"

Lorrik twisted his head away from his companion and tugged down the collar of his robes from the back of his neck. At the peak of his spine, a squared symbol bearing intricate interior markings had been seared into his flesh, creating a permanent mark that persisted in its entirety to this day. Facing his partner, he found the Pureblood adamant in his stoicism.

"I had asked you of familial ties before. You evaded the topic," Lorrik stated.

Letting out a heavy sigh, the Pureblood lowered his gaze in embarrassment. "In our time together… I've not asked much of you. As a sign of respect, and understanding, I've limited the amount of requests I make of you. Now I ask, as a friend, to please give me some time. If you desire insight to my past, I will grant it. In time. That is all ask. All I will ever ask."

The inquisitor rubbed his brow with concern as he digested his companion's words.

"Alright. I can wait."

"Thank you, Lorrik."

The two apprentices removed themselves from the banquet hall in relative silence as they made their way back to the suite. Through the halls they walked, unburdened by the inquisitive gazes cast upon their alien compatriots. Without closer inspection, the two appeared as if they fully deserved to reside within the upper halls of the Academy. Back at the apartment, the two students retreated into their respective bedrooms for a good night's rest.

The next day came quick, the events of the previous one still deeply embedded in the apprentices' minds. Rising from his slumber, Jresh prepared for whatever lesson Syrosk had prepared for their first official day of training as apprentices. The warrior suited up, ready to face whatever enhanced trials their master had prepared them, even without a weapon to call his own.

Stepping out into the common room, Jresh found no evidence that Lorrik had awoken yet. Without the gift of a warm meal, the warrior thought to pass the time with meditation to ease the troublesome inkling creeping into the back of his mind. Stopping himself, Jresh thought instead to check on his companion.

Cautiously and quietly peeking into the bedroom of his partner, the Pureblood was shocked to see Lorrik's sheets completely empty. The closet had been opened and rifled through. No signs of activity in the bathroom. Stillness. Emptiness.

Lorrik had left.