Chapter Sixteen: Exiles
The room was silent. Dark. Claustrophobic. Jresh and Lorrik sat alone in a featureless chamber, behind a featureless table. A single light cast its dim luminescence on the solemn pair from above as they waited. Minutes turned to hours as the two apprentices awaited their fate after being left there by the Imperial Guardsman. Finally, the door opposite them opened, revealing the shadowed figure of their master.
Lord Syrosk entered the room with an unusually sluggish pace. Approaching his students, the light slowly revealed the alien's stoic visage. But behind their master's stoicism, rested a billowing emptiness. He stopped directly across from his apprentices, slowly passing his gaze from student to student before letting it fall to the table.
"I've spoken with the Academy administrators," Syrosk rasped, his voice softer than usual. "The men who attacked you were not students of the Academy. They were its staff."
Lorrik began to run his hands through his hair as he let out an exasperated breath, unsure of how to begin processing his master's words. Jresh, meanwhile, upheld his stoic demeanor, eyes planted somewhere on the distant wall.
"The man who led the attack was an Overseer," Syrosk explained. "And his death has caused some… concern. This is not something that goes without consequence."
"He was going to kill me," Lorrik bluntly said. "Are you honestly saying Jresh didn't do the right thing?"
"No, I am not," Syrosk replied. "I am merely clarifying the nature of the situation we find ourselves in. The Academy and its rules cannot be superseded. Not by me. Not even by Tash. He was granted permission to continue his operations so long as they did not interfere with those of the true Academy. I was granted similar permissions when I returned to take you as my apprentices. We are free to disrupt Tash's domain, but we cannot touch this institution's true denizens. Especially those responsible for its operation and the training of its initiates."
"They sought me out," Lorrik muttered. "Hunted me down. They knew my name. Knew who I was. Knew who we were."
"Many do," Syrosk admitted. "Tash's activities are no secret to those with any semblance of authority on this planet. They simply choose to ignore them, believing whatever scheme he is hatching with such impure students is doomed to fail. His acolytes were never considered true students of the Academy and have been here so long that they continue with little objection. It seems we are not afforded the same lack of observation. We've grown bold in recent months. I paid no concern to allowing you all to walk the grounds of the Academy. And I was so transfixed on our dealing with Tash that I couldn't notice any brewing dissent. And now we have suffered for it."
"I may be a bit banged up, but nothing serious," Lorrik said. "We can fix this. We've already talked to Tash's classrooms. We can scale back, operate beneath the notice of anyone like we used to."
"I'm afraid not," Syrosk declared. "A decision was reached. You have all been exiled from Korriban."
The apprentices' eyes widened.
"All of us?" Lorrik asked. "The other apprentices as well?
"Yes. You and the other six must leave. I am allowed stay, but I am forbidden to train you here."
The Human slumped in his chair. "Were being punished for defending ourselves. The Order that espouses strength is punishing us for trying to survive. We're worth more dead than alive to them."
"It was your capability that earned you exile rather than death," Syrosk explained. "Some would see your victory worthy of praise. Others worry that it sullies the reputation of the pure-blooded. In the end, none of them wish to see the Academy disrupted, regardless of the actor's nature or motivation."
"Where do we go from here?" Lorrik timidly asked.
"You've the day to gather your belongings and vacate your rooms," Syrosk stated. "I've managed to requisition shuttles offworld. We can relocate and continue our training elsewhere. Possibly Dromund Kaas or Ziost. Though we likely couldn't operate within one of the other Academies, we could train outside their boundaries. But first, the other apprentices must be informed of our situation." The Sith Lord turned his back on his apprentices and exited the compact room, pausing just outside the door. "I've been tasked with escorting you back to your room. You are to stay there until everyone is ready to leave tomorrow."
The apprentices rose from their seats, following their master without protest. There was nothing more to say or do. Judgment had been passed by those with actual say in the Order. They were now outcasts amongst outcasts.
Back in their home, the apprentices watched the door shut behind them. As Lord Syrosk left to address his other students, Lorrik and Jresh stood motionless amongst their meager belongings. In an instant, practically everything they now laid eyes upon had been granted unto them. And in another, it had been taken away. The two were unsure of how to proceed. A worry began to creep into the inquisitor's conscience, a worry unlike any other.
He had experienced fear. Experienced dread. Experienced the litany of harrowing events expected of a Sith. But this was different. This wasn't something that could be beat. He literally had no opponent to face. No danger. No pain. And yet, he felt as if everything was slowly slipping away from him. And whereas he would usually seek comfort in his companion, the warrior seemed detached, having not uttered a single word single the encounter.
Lorrik felt powerless. No amount of physical strength, no amount of mystic knowledge, no amount of conniving cunning could remedy their situation. They were under the scrutiny of a system they did not even belong to. They were Sith, but they were not Sith. They were forced to act as Sith, but forbidden to act as Sith.
As Jresh retreated to his room, the inquisitor surveyed the living quarters, taking note of what needed to be packed. At his desk, the Human removed and set down his lightsaber. Even at first glance, he could notice the marks and scraps it had suffered from being dropped and banged against various surfaces. His eyes then panned to the holocron that sat a short distance away. He glared at the red pyramid, a hate brewing within him.
He hated that blasted thing. He wanted to blame everything that had occurred on it. If he hadn't looked inside, he wouldn't have learned that technique. If he hadn't learned that technique, he wouldn't have injured himself and his partner. If he hadn't injured himself, he would have been sparring with the other apprentices rather than wandering the halls of the Academy. He wanted to blame it, because he knew if he could not, the only thing he could blame was himself.
Lorrik began to dig through his desk, gathering and collecting his scattered datacards and stacking them next to his weapon. As luxurious as his quarters had been in relation to his tenure amongst Tash's classrooms, the inquisitor realized how little his amount of possessions had actually changed. He had acquired a lightsaber, a few new sets of clothes, that damned artifact. But other than that, he had nothing worthy of being held onto aside from his collected datacards. Everything of worth he possessed could easily be carried upon his person and confined to a single footlocker. He didn't know whether that fact pleased or upset him.
In the other room, Jresh slowly peeled away his battle attire. Removing the hardened leathers and plates from his body, the Pureblood possessed no scars nor wounds from his encounter, but it had left its mark. His heart still beat at a heightened pace. His breathing, while controlled, took the warrior's conscious effort to maintain its rhythm. Replacing his armor with a set of robes, the Pureblood looked around his room. His eyes wandered as he thought of how to proceed, but he had no desire to go anywhere.
Sitting on the floor near the foot of his bed, Jresh closed his eyes, attempting to calm the chaos that refused to leave his body and mind. He began to meditate, trying to regain control of himself, but in his current state, he found his senses heightened beyond belief. He could feel the passing air upon the entirety of his exposed skin. He was cognizant of each and every movement that occurred around him. And worst of all, the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. He concentrated. Focused all his energies on calming himself, but was interrupted each second with the renewed thumping of his heart.
Outside, Lorrik moved from the living quarters to his bedroom. Surveying his closet, the inquisitor began mentally allocating the space required to pack his luggage. As he looked over the articles of clothing, the Human succumbed to a brief coughing fit. As he regained control, his began to rub his own neck. The muscles were sore to the touch, in fact, his entire body still ached from the crushing forces he endured in the earlier encounter. Trudging over to his bed, the Human plopped down on top of the sheets, relishing what would be his last day with that wonderful bed. As he stared upward toward the ceiling, he began to focus his mind, attempting to soothe the soreness that populated much of his body.
His trance was broken when he heard a series of knock on the suite's front door. Perking up, the inquisitor wondered how long he had been laying down as soreness from before seemed to have disappeared. Lorrik rose to his feet and journeyed toward the suite's entrance. With a quick press of the controls, the door rose into its recess, revealing a gathering of six apprentices outside.
"We need to talk," Arlia bluntly stated. The six students of Syrosk stood rigid, most with their arms folded, baring none too pleased expressions.
Lorrik began to worriedly scratch his chin. "Look, I know this is-"
"I said WE need to talk, not you," Arlia chided. "Move aside." The Twi'lek shooed the Human back as she barged in, the other apprentices following her into the suite. As the last of the students entered, Lorrik hesitantly closed the door behind them. The visitors made their way into the living quarters, spreading themselves out amongst the desks and meditation mat.
"Where's Syrosk?" Lorrik asked.
"Elsewhere," Arlia answered. "Likely securing us transit off this dust ball."
"What are you doing here?"
"What do you think? We're here because we need to figure out what we're going to do next," Arlia declared.
"Syrosk seems intent on packing up and continuing our training elsewhere, leaving all this Academy nonsense behind us," Kar'ai stated.
"But we all know that's not going to work," Isorr added. "Syrosk thinks we can train elsewhere, but we're outcasts no matter where we go."
"Right. Things only worked out here because of Syrosk's history with the place," Arlia stated. "Whether he realizes it or not, this is the safest place for him. Anywhere else, and he's fair game for any Lord who wants to take down the 'alien' in their midst."
"Syrosk's admitted defeat," Ryloh offered. "He's willing to abandon everything we've accomplished so far, because he thinks it's what's best for the group.
"But we don't plan on giving up that easily," Kar'ai heartily added.
Lorrik offered the gathered apprentices a soft arch of his brow. "Wait, I thought you'd all be angry about being exiled from Korriban."
"Of course we're angry," Arlia declared, "Tash made the better move, and now Syrosk is just handing him the win."
"Wait, Tash? You think was Tash's doing?" Lorrik asked.
"Oh, come on, don't tell me you haven't figured that out," Arlia chided. "We managed to upset him by messing with his classrooms, and he found a way to make sure we never messed with them again."
"I was attacked by an Overseer. Not an instructor. Not one of Tash's lackeys. An Overseer, from the REAL Academy," Lorrik explained. "He hated the other students and everything Tash was doing as much as he did me."
"I know, right? Lessens the likelihood of things being tied back to him," Arlia stated. "We're not dealing with a normal Sith, we're dealing with a Darth who's managed to survive the entirety of the Great War while overseeing a secret training ground for impure acolytes. I'm sure he knows a thing or two about manipulation."
"Maybe he does, but that doesn't make him any more likely the culprit than some random Sith with a vendetta against our kind," Lorrik admitted.
"No less likely either," Isorr countered.
"You really think he could orchestrate such a thing from across the galaxy in less than a day?" Lorrik asked. "We just met with his classrooms yesterday."
"Maybe he was planning it earlier and it just happened to sync up with our recent ploy?" Arlia offered. "Maybe it was carried out by one his agents here? Maybe it was his apprentice, though we don't know if he was aware of our actions yesterday."
Lorrik's eyes slowly drifted toward the floor. "He was aware." The other apprentices looked to the Human with a curious look.
"How could you know that?" Arlia asked.
"Because. I talked to him last night," Lorrik admitted.
Isorr balked. "You what?"
"I caught up with him as he was about to board a shuttle. He already knew before I had even spoke."
"Why were you talking with him in the first place?" Kar'ai asked.
"He offered us a chance to join him, I thought it only fair to give him the chance to join us," Lorrik admitted.
"He offered us a chance to join Tash," Arlia corrected. "He's still his apprentice, and he's made his loyalties abundantly clear. He's probably the one who sent the Overseer after you."
"No. I don't believe that," Lorrik declared. "That's not the man who brought me to the Academy."
"Your trusting naiveté was kind of adorable at one point, but it's time to get serious," Arlia directed. "The man was and is a Sith. He said and did whatever was required to get us headed toward the Academy. We cannot trust him any more than we can trust his master."
As a lull overtook the conversation, the Zabrak looked around the suite's living quarters. "Where's Jresh, he needs to be here as we plan our next move."
"He's in his room," Lorrik hesitantly stated. "He's… meditating."
Isorr balked. "Meditating?"
"He's still recovering from the encounter, emotionally at least," Lorrik explained. "I can sense the imbalance within him."
The Zabrak released a low growl. "What manner of Sith cannot handle the effects of battle."
"This was no ordinary battle," Lorrik muttered.
Receiving no further explanation, the Isorr offered a stern scoff. "Then you'll make his decisions for him. We're being kicked out tomorrow. The question is, where do we go?"
"Where can we go?" Ryloh asked. He and the other apprentices looked to Lorrik for an answer.
"What? Why should I have any idea?"
"Because, this is the kind of thing you're best at," Kar'ai stated. "Guiding the group when we have no idea where to go. Back in the wastes. When we became apprentices. When Vai offered us a place with Tash. You're the best at keeping this group together."
Lorrik saw the eyes of the other six apprentices continue to press upon him. "I… don't know. This isn't like anything we've dealt with before. Maybe it's just best to pack your bags and… wait for tomorrow." The Human began to move past the other students without another word.
Ryloh raised a hand as the other inquisitor approached one of the bedrooms. "But-"
"I don't know about anyone else, but I need more rest. I trust you'll see yourselves out," Lorrik muttered as he retreated into his room, leaving the other apprentices standing with no direction. With nothing more to say, the students removed themselves from the suite and departed toward their own rooms.
Once more, the Human fell onto his bed, this time shutting his eyes, hoping for the day to finally be over.
As morning came, Lorrik was awoken by a series of knock at his front door. Stepping from his bedroom, the inquisitor saw his companion already up and dressed. Two small footlockers had been stacked atop the warrior's desk, containing everything the Pureblood wished to take with him. Lorrik was thrilled to see his partner up and moving around, but the warrior still carried a beleaguered look in his eyes. The two shared a brief look as they silently pondered the knock at their door. For all they knew it could have been a group of Guardsmen ready to escort them offworld.
Garbed in his under-robes, the inquisitor opened to door to be greeted by Arlia, who invited him into the hallway. Cautiously stepping from his apartment, the Human saw the curious sight of the other apprentices standing near their own suites, examining notes attached to the walls on either side of their doors. Turning, Lorrik saw that two more rest beside his own door.
"What are these?" Lorrik asked to no one in particular.
"Look for yourself," Arlia advised. "It seems someone knew we were departing today.
Lorrik examined the notes closely. Pieces of flimsiplast, small pages containing a specialized message. Both possessed a unique set of astrogation coordinates accompanied by a single name. One said 'Yerrig', the other said 'Zyos'.
"Who put these here?" Lorrik asked.
"Don't know," Arlia admitted. "Kar'ai and Ryloh were the first to notice. They were here before any of us woke up. What's yours say?"
"They're coordinates, and the name of the man who owned me back when I was a slave. The other has the name of the Sith responsible for the death of Jresh's parents."
"That's what I thought," Arlia muttered to herself, eliciting a confused response from the Human. "Each of these sheets seems to point us toward something in our past. The question is, who put these here and why?"
"I'd say the who is easy enough to figure out," Lorrik admitted. "How many people have knowledge of our pasts, and how many of those people have the resources to keep tabs on them."
"Tash," Arlia declared. "If he knows we're being forced of Korriban, he could be trying to split us up. Or perhaps he's still trying to court our favor. First create a situation where Syrosk can no longer provide for us, then provide us with the things we most want."
Lorrik stared at the sheets. "Or maybe… it's a peace offering."
"Yeah, that's what I mean. Tash is trying to-"
"No. Not Tash. Vai," Lorrik offered. "As his apprentice, Vai could reasonably access the same information and resources Tash could."
"Again with this?" Arlia muttered. "Vai is not our ally."
"He's not our enemy either," Lorrik stated.
"You realize the most likely explanation is that this is a trap. He could be guiding us right toward our deaths," Arlia explained.
"If that's the case, then I say we follow them," Lorrik declared. "After all, you all had a problem with Syrosk admitting defeat. If you're right and this is a trap, then the fight is still on. If I'm right and this is a gift, then the fight is most definitely still on. Tell the others to get ready. We're leaving Korriban."