Chapter Twelve: Movements
The halls of the Academy were calm as Jresh made his way toward his partner's room, a tray of food held firmly in his hands. Along the way, he passed Nesk and Vurt who offered nothing but silent glances and a pair of subtle nods. They had visited with Lorrik as agreed, and were now set to fill the rest of the day in the absence of their master.
The Pureblood stalled as he stood in the doorway of his partner's room. The Human was sitting upright in his bed, a smile on his face. He seemed calm, content. Jresh's plan had worked. Stepping past the medical bay's threshold, the warrior was greeted with wide eyes and a hearty chuckle.
"You know me way too well," Lorrik said as he watched his companion approach. The tray in his hands held an arrangement of foods in various shapes and colors. That seemed to be the only way of accurately defining the assortment. The longer Lorrik stared at it, the more his smile shrank. "You know, I appreciate the sentiment, but…"
"I know it's hard going back to eating food that you yourself haven't had a hand in preparing, but you're not exactly fit to cook," Jresh advised. He carefully handed the tray to the bedridden inquisitor, noticing the pale, cracked right hand that took hold of it. The Pureblood struggled to maintain his stoic facade after seeing the extent of his partner's injuries. "You need to get your strength back. There's some meat here…"
"Which one of these is meat?" Lorrik asked as he stared at the tray's contents. Jresh leaned in to get a closer look, carefully studying the arrangement, taking his time before giving an answer.
"I'm actually not sure."
"Honestly, where did you get this?"
"I went to the old mess hall."
"Well, that explains it," Lorrik muttered. "I don't think my stomach's ready to handle Academy food, or worse, sub-Academy food. Do we have anything back at the suite?"
"Mostly basic ingredients. We're coming up on restock day-"
"Ah, that's it," Lorrik interrupted. "You could talk to the quartermaster. I'm sure he could secure us some healthier foods."
"I'm not sure that's wise. Syrosk warned us to keep your stay here a secret. We have to be careful who we meet with until you've recovered," Jresh explained.
"It's okay, we can trust him."
"Can we? You are aware whom everyone connected to the old classrooms serves, right?"
"He's more trustworthy than anyone else who works in this place, genuine Academy staff included. He's responsible for our extra food supplies. He's responsible for my lightsaber's construction. He's helped us, even knowing that we know about Tash," Lorrik explained.
"Very well. I trust your judgment," Jresh stated with a dutiful nod. "I'll be back with some better food. Don't go anywhere."
The Pureblood smiled as his companion let out a soft chuckle. As far as jokes go, it was rather poor, but then again it was never the warrior's strong suit. But none the less, it managed to raise the Human's spirits greater than any medicine could. For the all the pain the two apprentices had gone through, and were still forced to deal with, they knew that it was incapable of stopping them. They would survive. They would persist. They would progress.
Jresh stepped out of the room with a subtle limp, leaving Lorrik alone with his meal. After a careful minute of close examination, the inquisitor slowly raised his left hand and offered a gentle prod to what he though was a slab of meat on his tray. The material could not maintain its shape under the weight on the Human's inquiring finger, squishing as it slowly lost its consistency. Lorrik grimaced as the endeavor raised more questions than it could solve. With no further inquiries, the Human carefully moved the tray to the chair next to his bed, deciding himself capable of waiting for his partner's return.
The Pureblood carefully walked the halls of the Academy, hands filled with a variety of fruits and vegetables provided by the quartermaster. The exchange was brief and without difficulties, something the warrior thought an impossibility within the Academy. He had thought his companion overly optimistic, but he had truly forged an alliance with the quartermaster, however benign it was.
As the warrior made his way back toward his partner, he sensed something was amiss. He could sense worry. Panic. Fear. His eyes immediately sharpened as his heart began to beat ever faster. But his first thought would not drive him to action, for he knew these emotions weren't coming from Lorrik. The bond that they shared meant he would have immediately sensed if his partner was in danger. And yet these feelings were emanating from someone with whom he did share some form of connection. The warrior received his answer when a black blur entered his line of sight.
"Syrosk?" Jresh muttered, dumfounded by the sight of his master, garbed in a set of simple black robes rather than in armored attire. The Sith Lord moved with a pace the warrior had never seen him use outside of battle. Nor had he known his master to be incapable of masking his emotional state. As soon as the Pureblood's words left his lips, the alien stopped dead in his tracks. The horned head of the Sith Lord turned to face his apprentice, casting a sharp glare.
"Jresh! What are you doing out here? Why aren't you with Lorrik?" Syrosk harshly rasped. So many questions began to fill the warrior's head. Where had his master been for the past few days? What could cause him to emerge? Why question his presence? Most importantly, where was he going?
"I was getting Lorrik… some food," Jresh answered. He knew no matter his answer, it would not assuage his master's concerns. Concerns the warrior required insight into. "What is happening, Syrosk?"
The Sith Lord remained silent, turning his head back and forth between his apprentice and his prior path. With a wave of his hand, he beckoned the Pureblood to follow. As he continued his flight down the hallway, Jresh rushed to keep at his master's side.
"Lorrik is in danger," Syrosk plainly stated, his eyes fixated upon the path ahead.
"He's been in danger these past few days!" Jresh countered, maintaining his pace. "And yet, you saw fit to hide yourself away. Now that he's awake you finally emerge?"
"He has awoken?" Syrosk softly rasped, genuinely unaware of these event. The Sith Lord's gaze fell as he gathered his thoughts, body still caught in the perpetuation of motion. "It will be for naught if we cannot get to him in time."
"In time for what? How is he in danger?" Jresh asked. "I sense nothing, nor does our bond tell me he is in harm's way."
"You want to know why I 'hid myself away'? So that I could meditate. So that I could anticipate the inevitable threat that would befall us."
"What inevitable threat?"
"Tash. I knew he had too many eyes and ears within the Academy for Lorrik's state to go unreported. It was only a matter of how long it would take him to respond. And now, one of his agents managed to sneak onto Korriban, almost slipping completely beneath my notice."
"Enough," Jresh said. "If what you say is true, we mustn't distract ourselves with incessant chatter."
Syrosk offered Jresh a stern nod as the two powerful figures glided down the Academy halls, side by side, master and apprentice, rushing toward the unknown. As they neared the section of the Academy where Lorrik resided, a troubling feeling began to stir within the Pureblood's gut. What manner of individual could manage to evade Syrosk's usually impeccable insight? After all the apprentices had done to lay low, to not draw the ire of Syrosk's rival, why would someone target Lorrik. The warrior drew solace from the fact that no matter what force may yet threaten his companion, the bond between them told him that Lorrik was safe for the time being. Which meant there was still time to reach him.
The pair drew closer and closer, eyes fixated only on the path in front of them. Each new object and figure that momentarily entered their view would be quickly passed and forgotten. And no person, no Sith, would stand in their way, for they knew better. Only a few halls rest between Jresh and his companion. The warrior's senses told him that Lorrik's position had not changed since his departure, but the same could not be said of his emotional state. There was an energy that wasn't there before. Whether it was good or bad he could not tell. He could not parse his own feelings from his partner's. Was the worry he sensed his own? And was it clouding his judgment? Or was he, in fact, too late?
The master and apprentice rounded the final corner, Lorrik's room now firmly within their sights. Jresh overtook his master, rushing forth with an astounding burst of speed. The warrior burst into his companion's room, Syrosk following soon after, only to discover that Lorrik was not alone. Jresh and his master were greeted with the sound of Lorrik crying out, not with screams or protests, but with laughter.
The inquisitor sat upright in his bed, all smiles, a similarly joyful Human sitting beside him. The older man held in one hand Lorrik's previously discarded meal tray, the other deftly wielding a fork with a bit of food skewered upon its tip. Almost a decade had passed since their last meeting, but Jresh immediately recognized the individual who looked to be in his mid-thirties. His looks, his demeanor, his attire. They all pointed to one man: Vai Thorel.
"I think you're right, that might not have been meat." Thorel chuckled, looking up to see Jresh and Syrosk standing stupefied a short distance away. "Oh, hey! Visitors!"
"Lorrik… is everything alright?" Jresh cautiously asked, his guard not yet lowered.
"Of course!" Lorrik cheerfully replied. "You remember Vai, right? Vai, that's-"
"Jresh Takuul," Thorel interrupted, thrusting out his arms in a welcoming motion. The man hadn't lost his smooth complexion, nor his equally smooth voice. "How could I forget the only Pureblood I brought to the Academy. But more importantly… Syrosk!"
The Human lifted himself from his seat, leaving the food tray behind as he circumvented the bed. With a brisk pace he approached the Sith Lord who retained his usual scowl, the tail of his red coat bouncing with each giddy step. Face to face with the old Lord, Thorel stretched his arms out wide. Syrosk's stance remained rigid as he continued to cast a cold glare toward the Human.
"Come on Syrosk, how long has it been?" Thorel asked, dropping his arms. "Don't tell me you aren't excited to see me."
"Given the intrinsic implications of your visit… I'm far from excited," Syrosk rasped. Thorel's spirits refused to damper as the two remained locked in silence. Jresh sidestepped the pair, edging closer to his companion. In his rush to return, the Pureblood had lost a few fruit, but the majority of his stock remained safely tucked within his arms. The sight of which filled Lorrik with renewed delight.
"Thank goodness. I was starving," Lorrik spoke up. The inquisitor took one of the fruit from his partner and took a hearty bite, reveling in the first experience of bodily pleasantness since awakening. Jresh had not yet relaxed from his heightened state of awareness, his gaze passing cautiously between the actors that graced the room.
"Lorrik," Jresh whispered. "I'm not usually one to question your ability to stay calm in adverse situations, but…"
"Adverse?" Lorrik replied, mouth filled with fruit. Turning his attention toward his visitor, he began waving his hand. "Hey Vai, want something to get that bad taste out of your mouth?"
"That'd be lovely," Thorel declared, tearing himself away from the crotchety Lord. Lorrik tapped Jresh's arm, signaling him to toss his visitor a piece. The Pureblood hesitantly complied, softly pitching a fruit to Thorel, who received it with a perfect catch. "Quite the apprentice you have here, Syrosk."
The Sith Lord continued to stare down the red cloaked figure as he casually leaned against the wall near Lorrik. "What is your purpose here?"
Thorel offered a quick laugh. "I thought that'd be obvious. I'm just checking up on things for Tash."
"Then why are you bothering one of my students?" Syrosk rasped. "My apprentices and I are no longer within his domain and no longer subject to his scrutiny."
"I wouldn't say I'm bothering anyone, right Lorrik?" Thorel warmly asked of the bedridden inquisitor.
"Syrosk… it's okay. I'm okay," Lorrik reassured. "We've just been partaking in some light conversation, nothing to worry about."
"Need I remind you of the man this one serves?" Syrosk harshly asked.
"Perhaps you do," Lorrik declared, his previous enthusiasm dropping. "We know next to nothing about Tash other than the warnings you've so sparingly doled out over our apprenticeship."
"Well, that's no good Syrosk," Thorel jokingly offered. "Two years and you haven't been able to instill a fear of my master in your students? I can understand the inherent difficulty, though. Any attempts to vilify Tash would either be disregarded or end up reflecting poorly upon yourself."
"Tash does not need my help cementing his reputation," Syrosk harshly declared. "The evidence rests in his mockery of the Sith Academy."
"Mockery we both played an essential role in establishing if I recall correctly," Thorel countered.
"Under false pretense," Syrosk replied. "My goal was and still is to ensure the strength of the next generation of Sith, regardless of their perceived worth. But all Tash wants is control. He intends to use these students as he has all others, as mere tools. Just as had done to me. Just as he will do to you."
"And to think, you two used to be the closest of friends," Thorel morosely stated. Lorrik and Jresh offered only stunned silence in response to the unfolding conversation, panning their gaze back and forth before settling on their master. Noticing the apprentices' reaction, the visitor couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "You truly haven't told them anything have you? You and Tash really aren't that different after all."
"I never went behind his back and murdered his master!" Syrosk exclaimed with a grim shout.
"If you knew the kind of man his master was, you would have," Thorel explained, following up with a light sigh. "You still don't realize he was doing you a favor."
"A favor?" Syrosk shot back, enraged. "He took from me the only person who genuinely believed in my worth. The only person who saw me as more than a filthy alien. Because of him, I was not doomed to a short life on the streets of Dromund Kaas. Because of him, I was able to become a Sith Lord. He was like a father to me!"
"Exactly," Thorel declared. "The way a father would approach his son is much more limited than the way a master would approach his apprentice. He wanted to protect you, so he held you back, made sure you did nothing to displease your fellow Sith. Had he survived, none of us would be here right now. You two would still be collecting the Empire's chosen sons for training, ignoring the lesser beings you and Tash would send me to gather. You believe Tash to be controlling, but you cannot accept the fact that he was the one who freed you from Omnus' control."
"And what leads you to believe I desired such freedom?"
"The fact that you are Sith. Had you lacked the desire, such a title would be unfitting," Thorel explained. "From what I know of your master, he was a good man. A good Sith. I admit, it is a shame Tash was forced to act in the manner he chose, but he was afraid you could not escape your master's influence otherwise. Unfortunately, his influence proved rather deep seeded."
"Tash was a fool if he thought I'd so readily cast aside my master's wisdom," Syrosk declared.
"Ah yes, the wisdom of the Seer," Thorel toyed with the Sith Lord. "Considering you've left your apprentices in the dark regarding your role this institution, I'll hazard a guess that they aren't privy to the details regarding your falling out with Tash."
The room fell silent. The two apprentices continued to stare toward their master, their faces revealing a wide array of internal feelings. They found themselves witness to a struggle beyond their understanding, from a time before they had ever set foot on Korriban. And as each new sliver of information came to light, the apprentices slowly realized that for all their time within the Academy halls, under the tutelage of their master, they were still being kept in the dark, left to uncover whatever they could themselves or wait for someone to graciously provide them answers to questions they hadn't even asked.
"We always assumed the hatred stemmed from the death of his master," Lorrik softly stated, almost struggling to get the words out.
"Oh, he didn't even know my master was responsible for that until after the initial confrontation," Thorel explained. "Go ahead Syrosk, tell them why you decided to oppose Tash."
The Sith Lord remained silent, offering only his stern glare toward the provoking Human.
"Syrosk?" Lorrik hesitantly spoke up.
"You want the truth? Fine," Syrosk softly rasped. "Years ago, Tash and I were allies, friends even. Our masters operated within similar spheres, so we were acquainted at an early age. We would share resources, train one another, eliminating whatever weakness our masters couldn't. When Tash's master died, his assets and position were assumed by his apprentice. When my master died, I was left with nothing. Alone and an outcast within my own order, I sought out the only person I thought I could trust. Tash. He proposed the idea of establishing new classrooms within the Academy, one accepting of all Force-sensitives regardless of status, using my visions to locate and gather children across the galaxy. He appealed to my faltering faith in the Empire, promised me that we would usher in a new era for the Sith. But after the last child had been collected, I was granted one last vision. One that spoke of Tash's inevitable betrayal. I saw my own life extinguished by his hand. So I confronted him. Demanded an explanation, to which he provided none. I had served my purpose in finding him a batch of young Force-users, so he had no qualms severing his ties with me. Once more I was alone. An outcast. Worthless. Without the backing of someone of repute, the title of Sith Lord was meaningless when worn by an alien like me. But I was given clear insight into our fates. That is why I challenged him. That is why I continue to challenge him. Until the day I perish."
"And that… is the influence you could not be ridded of," Thorel plainly offered. "We thought your master was the only thing controlling you, but there was something else. Something far more destructive. Your 'visions'. They weren't a talent, nor a gift, but a crutch, one that supported the entire weight of your being. You could not comprehend the possibility that you made a mistake. You could not believe in the slightest of chances that you had misinterpreted a vision."
"There was no room for misinterpretation, Thorel," Syrosk deliberately stated. "I saw with utter, uncompromised clarity."
"Of course you did," Thorel dismissed. "After all, Seers gonna see."
"I can't believe it," Lorrik softly muttered to himself. The others turned to see the inquisitor looking down, eyes wide, hands shaking. "Not just the past few months… but the past ten years of my life have been a lie."
"Your reaction is justified, Lorrik," Syrosk admitted. "I never should have kept you in the dark regarding myself and Tash."
"I couldn't care less about whatever problems you two have with one another," Lorrik emphatically declared.
Slowly, the inquisitor began to shift his position, hanging his legs over the side of the bed. His body was heavy, and his movements were strained, but the Human forced himself to get up. As Lorrik's bare feet graced the cold floor, Jresh quickly rushed to his side to offer assistance, dropping what remained of the produce tucked within his arms. As the Pureblood's steadying hand graced his companion's shoulder, Lorrik offered his appreciation, but gently removed it to stand of his own accord . The warrior offered a knowing nod and stepped away.
"No, what I can't believe, is that the freedom I was promised is nothing but a lie," Lorrik said, taking a careful step toward his master. "Vai. Leave us."
The visitor took one final glance between the Sith Lord and his apprentices before offering a solitary nod. "If you ever want to talk, you can always find me."
Without another word, Vai Thorel removed himself from the wall and made his way toward the exit, offering one last wink to Syrosk and taking a bite of his fruit before vacating the room.
"How dare you call yourself a Sith," Lorrik muttered as he trudged ever closer to his master. "How could you hope to give your students freedom, when you haven't earned it yourself? Everything that has transpired, has been because of your 'visions'. Our survival, our progression… you're telling me these weren't born out of skill or determination or sacrifice… but rather fate? You're telling me that every challenge, every trial, every life, every death… is predetermined?"
"No… I am not," Syrosk coldly answered.
"Then why? Why would you risk throwing everything away because of one simple vision," Lorrik taunted, taking hold of his master's horns, bringing him and his master face to face. Jresh kept his distance, but watched the scene unfold with a careful eye. "All this trouble we find ourselves in now, is because you didn't even think to alter the outcome. If the answer you are given is wrong, you don't just accept it, you correct it!"
"What would you suggest?" Syrosk countered. "Just ignore my vision, remain blissfully unaware of the truth behind my master's demise, follow Tash with the same blind devotion as his underlings whilst the doubt continued to erode at my mind? You don't understand what it's like to see your own death! You would not be able to just let that go!"
Lorrik stared deep into his master's eyes, before darting his gaze toward the room's exit. Silence dominated the room for what felt like an eternity. Without warning, the inquisitor relinquished his grip on his master's appendages, the anger slowly fading from his face.
"Alright, Vai's far enough away that I needn't keep this up," Lorrik admitted, taking an exhausted step backward.
"What are you talking about?" Syrosk asked, genuinely confused.
"Come on Syrosk, I've been around long enough to know when I'm being manipulated," Lorrik explained. "Vai wanted to create a rift between us. I thought I'd let him leave thinking he was successful."
The Sith Lord's eyes widened as he slowly wound down from his previous exchange. "I must say I'm… impressed, apprentice. You give a very… convincing performance."
"That's because I meant every word I said, I merely enhanced my tone," Lorrik admitted. "You made us your apprentices, you promised us answers, and yet we're still learning things we should have known long ago. Look, I get it, you've had your reasons for doing everything you done… which you probably can't say about most Sith. But can you honestly say you still think you're doing the right thing?"
"You don't understand-"
"That's your problem!" Lorrik chastised. "You think you're in some unique position, that no one could possibly understand or relate to what you've been through. Well, you're wrong. You were the one who found us in the first place, right? So you know our histories. Slaves. Aliens. Outcasts. You thought us capable of trusting our partners, but you didn't think we would trust you? All we've given you these past months is trust! Despite all the hardships, the grievances, the uncertainty, we still followed you. Not out of blind faith, but because we respected your teachings. We respected you. We believed in you. At the very least, you could do the same for your apprentices. You've seen what we've accomplished. You've seen what we're capable of. You still think there is such a thing an inevitability? Well, you shouldn't. Only the weak and the easily frightened thinks something cannot be overcome. The Syrosk I know is neither of those things. And by the way, you think you're the only the one with visions? You think you're the only one whose seen his own death? Well, you're not!"
Lorrik's speech was cut short as a sharp pain formed in the pit of his stomach. The Human fell to his knee, clutching at his gut as his companion rushed over to steady him. The inquisitor slowly raised himself back up as the Pureblood grasped his shoulders.
"You're speaking of this affliction?" Syrosk asked.
"No," Lorrik softly answered as Jresh led him back to his bed. "Although, in retrospect, I should have foreseen this consequence… I had no prior knowledge of the events that would surround it." Lorrik took his seat on the edge of the bed, the internal pain slowly subsiding. After a few deep breaths, he had returned to normal. "No, I saw my end in one of the tombs, in the Valley of Forgotten Lords. The vision I received came to me before you had even sent us into the wastes. It showed a monstrous being effortlessly snapping my neck inside of a tomb, the very same creature we would encounter the day you sent us to plunder those tombs. And the moment I realized I now stood face to face with my demise, I was afraid. Utterly, utterly afraid. Because in that instant, I thought believing in myself meant believing my vision had to be true. But I could not accept that fate, not as long as I knew there was work to be done, so long as I knew there were people who thought my life worth preserving. It was because of that encounter that I realized the importance of the bond between Jresh and myself. Whatever 'fates' we possessed as individuals no longer exist. Why can't you see that same applies to you."
Syrosk's eyes drifted to the floor. "In my attempts to avoid my master's mistakes… I've been unable to avoid making new ones. While I believed my fate to be sealed, I thought you all could be free of Tash's schemes. It would seem I merely placed you within one of my own. I thought I was preparing you for the day you would succeed me, as is a masters' duty. I thought I could do it in a way that was above the other petty Sith nonsense. In the end, my attempts were… misguided. It turns out the realms of guidance and manipulation have some overlap."
"It's time to forget about the past, and focus on the future. The REAL future," Lorrik declared.
"I agree, the question is, where do we go from here?" Syrosk asked.
"We train. As we always have," Lorrik answered.
"I meant about Tash, about Thorel," Syrosk clarified. "As we speak, he's likely conversing with the other apprentices. They'll want answers."
"And they'll get them. They deserve that much," Lorrik declared. "Vai will say his piece, check up on Tash's holdings, and report back to his master. Nothing we can do to stop it. We'll just pick up training once he leaves Korriban."
"Assuming none of the other apprentices leave with him," Syrosk stated.
"I wouldn't worry about that," Lorrik replied, cracking a smile.
"Really? You seemed quite enamored with him. He rescued you and the others from their past lives. I cannot deny that his words carry much weight."
"True, their source is credible, but the words themselves speak for his master, not Vai himself. Regardless of your part in events recent or long since passed, our years in his classrooms have not left a good impression of Tash. You see, now we know the real you. We cannot say the same about him. And that is why we will never join him. But that is also why we will not blindly oppose him. But you two possess a bond. An imperfect bond, but a bond nonetheless. You two are connected, and while I don't believe in inevitability, I do know that we will be forced to deal with him so long as we remain your students. You want to know where we go from here? We're going to have to find out who the real Tash is. Not the one you despise. Not the one his students revere. Not the one his underlings fear. The real Tash. And there's only one person who can tell us who that is."
"And it's not his apprentice," Syrosk offered, his hand lightly scratching his chin. "The man will not willing reveal his intensions."
"Since when have Sith cared about willingness?" Lorrik joked. "Everyone has a breaking point. We'll provoke him, make him angry, do everything Vai did to loosen your tongue. We'll see him for who he truly is. Then, and only then, will we choose to oppose him."
"I doubt he'll grace us with his presence anytime soon," Syrosk rasped.
"Then we'll simply have to judge him by how he reacts… when he starts slowly losing control of his Academy," Lorrik declared. Steadily, the Human lifted himself from his seat on the edge of the bed. "The next time we meet, you tell your apprentices everything. The history. The visions. The truth. All of it. I told the others a while ago that I'd get some answers out of you. I'd like to remain a man of my word. Until then, I'll be getting some needed rest in a room with actual amenities."
The inquisitor made his way toward the room's exit, Jresh following shortly after. As much injury as their bodies had sustained, in that moment, there was no evidence of the fact. The two apprentices were utterly confident, uncompromised figures. As the pair silently made their exit, the Pureblood stopped to shoot one final glance to his master. The two shared a brief exchange of stoicism, each sharpening their eyes as they gazed into one another's. The warrior felt compelled to remain silent for the entire exchange, and felt no reason to compromise that silence now.
Lorrik and Jresh left their master to his own devices, heading back to their home. To recover from what had transpired. To prepare for what was to come.