Chapter 2 – Making Friends
An awkward silence hung in the air as Louise gazed slack-jawed at the naked Pureblood who stood before her. Said Pureblood shifted uncomfortably under the petrified girl's eyes, not sure what to do.
"Hey, ah, could you close the… um, door?" she asked, shivering slightly, the cold air from the halls wafting inside.
At first, Louise did not respond, her accursed eyes drifting, unwillingly taking in each and every detail of the woman before her. She was young, younger than Rayne, with shoulder length hair partially held out of her eyes by three spurs that jutted seamlessly from where her eyebrows should have been; another pair of spurs, longer than the previous, grew close to the base of the jaw towards the chin, angled slightly lower than the jaw itself. The rest of her body looked human enough, though there were shallow arrow-like ridges that ran down her sternum, ultimately bringing Louise's attention to the girl's shapely bust.
She stared for what seemed like ages but was really only a second or two before she realised what she was doing and snapped from her stupor.
"Roommate?" Louise asked, her eyes darting up to meet the Sith's, her throat suddenly dry. Then, as if suddenly realising what was happening, she spun around, slapping her hands over her eyes as her cheeks burned in embarrassment.
Louise had forgotten about the roommate system. It was relatively minor change, so she really did not pay it much mind. With there being many millions of students, it was found that doubling up dorms was an easy way to be economic with space while also making sure that rival acolytes would not capitalise on sleeping in the same room. The only issue was that she thought that Kory was going to be her roommate when she first heard… though that would be quite difficult now.
"Could you please put some clothes on!?" Louise shouted, fumbling as she tried to access the door control panel to close the door.
"What's wrong?" the Pureblood asked in a way that told Louise that the girl honestly did not understand what was wrong with her lack of dress. "Afraid of seeing some skin?"
"Clothes now!" Louise demanded in outrage.
The Pureblood sighed. "Oh, come now, don't be such a prude."
"I am not a prude!"
"Sure you aren't," she replied sardonically. There was a pause, some shuffling and then the distinct and subtle sound of fabric being manipulated before the woman spoke. "Done, clothed now."
Taking a chance, Louise turned to face the Sith, peeking through her fingers. "Thank Brimir…" The Sith was no longer nude, now dressed in a short dark bathrobe.
"Names Lyira," the Pureblood said, after a moment's pause, "Nice to meet you."
Louise raised an eye at the introduction. However, still wanting to be polite, she introduced herself, if bluntly. "Louise."
"Louise?" Lyira echoed, "Odd name. Certainly not Imperial."
Still riding high from the abysmal first impression, Louise reply was heated. "My name is not odd," she said coldly, "If think here was odd, it would be you!"
"Me? How am I the odd one, little Miss Pink-hair-and-eyes," Lyira retorted, gesturing to the pinkette.
"I am not little, and my hair and eyes are perfectly normal!" shouted Louise, her self-consciousness flaring under the amused gaze of the green eyed Sith. "You're the one who was training naked!"
"I will train however I feel," Lyira replied, sticking her nose in the air as she crossed her arms crossed over her chest. "What's your problem?"
Louise growled, jabbing a finger at her apparent roommate. "You! You're my problem!" she said, suddenly feeling hot as the shock from before wore off, like she was burning up on the inside, her breathing becoming deeper. Her clothes felt uncomfortable as if there were little needles prickling against her skin.
"Hey, I was just trying to joke around," Lyira replied defensively.
"I don't care, you–you—" Louise stuttered, trying to find the right words to articulate her anger properly— "b-big breasted… nudists hussy!"
The room was suddenly silent, only her breathing making any noise. Then, laughter, howling and mocking. Lyira was laughing, laughing at her as if this was some big joke. Louise's blood boiled with each second the woman laughed, her body physically shuddering with mirth.
"Is that your problem!?" she asked incredulously as her laughter faded away, holding her sides as if they were hurting. "My boobs? What? Are you self-conscious of your lackin–"
The crack of flesh hitting flesh silenced the room once again. Lyira had recoiled back, shock plastered on her face as she held her cheek. Louise glared daggers at the woman, raw rage palpable in the air as it seeped from her burning core.
"What was that for!?" demanded the Pureblood.
"Don't you dare say that!" Louise snapped.
"Or what?" she questioned, putting a hand on her hip. "You'll slap me again?"
Louise did not reply, her body shaking with rage. Calling upon the Force, it answered her demand quickly; her training saber flew from its resting place beside her trunk, slapping into her hand. In one fluid motion she brought the saber up, jabbing it at the girl threateningly. She was exhausted and had enough violence for today, but anger boiled in her veins and she knew that if she had to, she would shut the girl up with force.
Lyira recoiled, her own hand summoning forth her discarded sword, bringing it up to stop the training saber where it stayed. "Fine, if you want a fight, then let's fight!"
The two moved quickly, both bringing their weapons back to attack the other. Lyira was the fastest, lunging at Louise quickly and effectively. Louise parried, hissing as she used her saber to redirect the stab before following up with a slash of her own.
Soon the fight was in full swing and almost immediately, Louise realised just how skilled Lyira was. Unlike Louise who wielded her training blade as if it were just a weapon, Lyira's wielded her strange blade as if it were an extension of herself—each slash and lunge made being quick and precise as she danced around the pink-haired girl like water. Yet, even with her skill, Louise not once felt the ivory blade ever so much as graze her whenever the Pureblood took advantage of the various openings she left.
Nonetheless, Louise continued fighting on regardless, lost in a rage. She did not wish to kill her Pureblood, she had enough killing today, but the desire to get revenge for the insults thrown at her was too strong to ignore. But her anger left her unfocused and soon, the fight ended with a strong kick to her gut.
The pain was nothing, the runes numbing anything she would have felt, but it could not stop the strange sensation in her gut. She tried standing, eyes alight with hate and indignation, but before she could, her eyes found themselves looking at her robes which she could feel slipping from her petite form.
They… they were ruined. Cut and sliced in various areas, leaving gaping holes where pale flesh and underclothes visible to all. Her gift, torn to shreds, now nothing more than strips of black cloth bearly hanging to her body.
"No, no, no, no…" she mumbled, dropping her training saber and grasping at her torn robes, trying to hold it together in a vain attempt to somehow fuse the clean cuts together again, her eyes burning as tears attempted to run. "What did you do!?" she cried.
"Hey, you started this!" Lyira spat back, glaring at Louise.
"Get out…" Louise said, her voice wavering, pointing at the door.
Lyira snorted. "It's just clothes."
"I said get out!" Louise demanded, tears now running freely from narrow hate filled eyes as she thrust her finger towards the door. "Just get out!" Not even bothering to see if the Pureblood heeded her words, she crawled pathetically over to her trunk, opening it to replace her damaged clothes.
"I hate this, I can't…" she snivelled under her breath, her voice hitching as she spoke. She continued, muttering under her breath, cursing what her life had become, cursing Harkun and her roommate, and the Sith Empire itself. Her hands groped for one of the red jackets of one of her acolyte uniforms, pulling one free. Next, her robes were removed, sliding off her body easily despite the damage, leaving her sitting in nothing but her smallclothes, trousers, and boots.
A quiet, horrified gasp was heard from behind her. "You're—"
"Get out!" Louise hissed, turning to glare daggers at the Sith. Lyira did not respond at first, instead looking a few shades lighter than before, gaping at the pinkette with eyes that oozed pity. In the next, Lyira looked to the floor, turning, and finally left the room.
Now alone, Louise felt suddenly exhausted. She had no idea what time it was, but she just wanted the day to end.
Summoning what little strength she had, she flicked off the artificial lights and crawled onto the bottom bunk, wishing beyond hope that the day would just end. Unfortunately, her wish was left unanswered, leaving her staring up at the bottom of the top bunk, silently fuming, raging against the nightmare that was the Academy. Only after what seemed like ages did she fall into a restless sleep, plagued by nightmares, horrific reflections of her time in the alien galaxy.
Then, it changed. A calming presence washed over her, and her nightmares vanished, replaced by the serene void, just as it had long ago.
...
When Louise woke up in the morning, she still felt drained. All the anger and hatred of the day before was absent, now replaced with dread. This was her life now. Stuck in an Academy filled with butcherers and psychopaths.
Shaking her head, she tried to focus on the problem at hand; the room was dark. Pulling herself up off the bed, she tried walking to the door control panel to turn on the light, but before she could even take a step towards the door, she cried out in pain, curses ready to launch from her tongue. Something clanked against the ground as she fell back onto her bed, holding her toe which throbbed painfully, her teeth gritted.
Once the pain abated, she summoned lightning to hand, arcs jumping from finger to finger, lighting the room in a dull purple glow. Using the lightning as a torch, she lit up whatever she hit her toe on, only to find one of the desk chairs before her, though, there was more; a plain box sat on the coal coloured seat with a small plain piece of paper sitting skewed atop.
Stepping around the chair, she made her way to the door control panel, turning on the lights as she dismissed the lightning. Squinting at the sudden change in brightness, she made her way back to her bed, flopping onto it with a grunt, still feeling lethargic from sleep.
Louise looked at the box and the piece of paper, confused as to what it was and who put it there. For a second, she thought it was from her roommate and suddenly, she was on edge. Cautiously, she summoned the Force to pick up the piece of paper—not sure if it was safe to touch or not—and examined it.
It was a note.
'Luiiz,
I wanted to apologise for my actions the day before, but I'm not sure whether you would have accepted such an apology. So, I wanted to give you a token of good faith. I don't want to be enemies with you and I'm sorry. I think we should have a talk about what happened the day before.
Lyira Arrn.
P.S. I didn't know how to spell your name, I tried my best.'
Once Louise finished reading the note, she continued staring at it, trying to process what was written. Was this what it was like to get an apology? She thought. She honestly had no idea. The closest thing she ever got to one were Éléonore's insincere apologies whenever she got caught teasing her littlest sister or ones that servants were expected to give at any misstep.
Setting the note down beside her, she looked at the box apprehensively, not sure what 'token of good faith' lay beyond the cardboard box. She felt a little less sure that it was something malignant, but the thought still stayed in her mind—perhaps Lyira wanted to lull her into a false sense of security. Nevertheless, her insatiable curiosity won over in the end, cautiously moving the box from its place on the chair and onto her lap, unfolding the lid to see what lay inside.
Clothes? Louise thought confused.
No, it was more than just clothes, it was her robes; the colours and designs unmistakeable to her eyes. Confused and slightly riled by the fact Lyira's gift being the robes she ruined, Louise removed the lump of fabric, only to find there was more. Placing the robes to her side, she dug deeper and found what appeared to be another robe and two sets of underwear made from some simple black synthweave—a type of inexpensive artificial fabric.
Louise blinked at the 'tokens of good faith,' still unsure. Setting the box aside, she took the second robe in hand and stood up to have a proper look at it. Coloured mainly in black with highlights and designs of purples, the hooded robes were long and loose sleeved, cut waist length at the front and ankle length at the back.
It was well made, not expertly, but well nonetheless.
Now further confused and curious, she hung the robe over the chair, picking up what looked to be her damaged robes, examining it further. What she found surprised her. The robes were not damaged, but completely repaired, as if the fight never happened.
Louise had no idea what to think on the token, the gift. If she was honest with herself, she knew nothing about the Pureblood, but they certainly did not have a good first impression each other… and the more she thought about it, and as much as she hated to say it, she probably made their first encounter worse than it could have been.
Looking between the different articles of clothing, Louise could not help but feel stupid. She took her anger out on someone she did not even know—in her defence, she was having one of the worst days of her life; not only had she been forced to fight in some kind of cruel blood sport, but she had just watched Kory die horribly in front of her and she was powerless to do anything to stop it. She knew it was no excuse and it certainly did not justify her actions, but the facts were there.
Sighing, Louise set the robes down. While she might have preferred spending the entire day contemplating the strange gift and her even stranger roommate, she was an Acolyte of the Sith Academy and after what she saw the day before… she did not want to know what would happen if she skipped class.
So, with that in mind, she quickly collected her datapad, remembering that her schedule was to be sent today. Opening it up, she found herself confronted with an urgent notification from Assistant Overseer Markan in the form of mail—or as it was called in the Empire, holomail.
Dread filled her as she imagined the various classes the Academy would offer. At first, she thought the classes would be similar to the ones of her homeworld, but the events of yesterday twisted her expectations to something crueller. Bracing herself, she began to read the letter.
'Acolyte Louise,
Welcome to the Korriban Academy, the most prestigious academy in the grand Empire.
Below is the list of courses you have been enrolled in for your benefit. While these courses are not mandatory, it would be prudent for you to attend the lectures and classes lest you wish to earn the ire of Overseer Harkun and Lord Zash both. Due to your nature as slave-caste, it has been decided that your education will be modified to fix whatever holes you have in your education.
These core courses are as follows:
- Back to Basics: Weapons training.
- Back to Basics: Hand-to-hand combat
- Back to Basics: Physical Education.
- Back to Basics: Force Techniques.
- Back to Basics: Sith Philosophy.
- Remedial Classes: History.
- Remedial Classes: Culture.
- Remedial Classes: Language.
- Remedial Classes: Maths.
Your martial classes will be instructed by Lord Samus while Sith Philosophy, Force Techniques and Physical Exercise will be instructed by either me or Overseer Harkun himself. The remedial classes will be taught at the Korriban Preparatory School by the various teachers there.
Should your teachers find that you have reached an adequate level of education, you will be free to cease attending the class in place of various other courses available to acolytes in the Academy. If you wish to be assigned any other courses, please contact either me or Overseer Harkun. If you feel as if you do not wish to continue your remedial courses for whatever reason, please contact either me or Overseer Harkun and we will discuss your future.
As the Academy is quite large, you will have two days free from training to become familiar enough with the layout of the academy.
Attached is your schedule detailing the various classes you have been assigned, what times these classes are on and where they are located.
Also attached is a document detailing the various courses one may take at the Academy to further their education.
Once again, I will remind you that your core courses are important and should not be wasted. I will also remind you that your trial is due on the 35th of next month. I doubt you need reminding of what happens it you fail your trial.
Regards,
Assistant Overseer Markel.'
Scrolling to the bottom of the letter, she opened the schedule attachment and found herself surprised by what she saw. She already knew Korriban had longer days, but she hoped that would mean more time for herself—unfortunately, she was wrong.
No, instead, the twenty-eight-hour days of Korriban were pretty much booked with only one one-and-a-half-hour break after lunch. The only solace being the last day of the five-day week: Won'ijz, or as it was known in Basic, Freedom-day. Fitting.
For the first two days of the week, Shâsot'ijz and Tyûk'ijz, she was scheduled to attend physical exercise classes before breakfast, leading into weapons training, lunch, her only free period, philosophy, Force training, dinner, and ending with an alternation of maths or languages depending on which day.
The final two days of the school week, Midwan'ijz and Asha'ijz, switched out exercise for hand-to-hand combat, weapons training for Force training, philosophy for history or culture depending on the day, Force training for weapons training, before the day finally ended once again with an alternation of maths and language.
Overall, it was going to be tough, especially as she was stuck with Harkun for most of those days.
Louise shook her head, she could worry about classes later. For now, she just wanted to explore the Academy, perhaps look into a few places where her classes would be held. So, with that in mind, Louise cleaned up her room—putting the tokens of good faith away in their box—and got changed into a clean uniform, strapped her training saber to her waist, tied up her hair in a simple ponytail and left the room.
...
The idea that the Academy had a prison complex was strange but unsurprising. The Tristain Academy of Magic also had a dungeon, but it was barely used—in fact, Louise could not remember ever hearing about it being used. The Sith Academy, on the other hand, housed several prisoners, each restrained by energy cages, metal cages or even stocks. Whether they be criminals, murderers, rapists and the like, Louise had no idea, but with her current view of the Empire, it wouldn't be much of a stretch that being kind would lead to immediate imprisonment or execution.
After leaving her dorm behind, Louise tried her best to find her way around the labyrinthian halls of the Academy. The place was simply massive, and she knew she would need some form of public transportation to get around. Fortunately, transportation was easy to come by, with various checkpoints scattered around the different parts of the Academy, each ferrying students back and forth around the campus.
Her first stop had been at the outdoor training field. There she saw many acolytes and even some Sith—if the lightsaber they used was any indication—scattered around the place, each of them training and sparing, whether it be with a lightsaber, their fists, or the Force. Some were even exercising, doing various workout routines while their Overseer's and instructors barked orders at them.
Soon after that, she took a tour around the other buildings where her lectures and classes would be held, quickly finding herself amazed by the resources the Academy held; whether it be the massive libraries or the museum, the intricate training rooms or simulation chambers, or even the art studios and laboratories. The Academy seems to have everything one could need to follow their passions.
What else was the architecture. Unlike the other modern Imperial constructs she was used to, this one seemed to deviate from the norm. It was not built entirely in the utilitarian designs that she came to expect from the Empire, but its own mix of modern and ancient architecture, but it was more than that, almost as if it was its own style. Stonework and metal merged beautifully with bold lines and colours decorating the walls, with different pieces of art decorating the buildings inside and out, whether it be a sculpture, canvas art, or intricate wall carvings.
At first, Louise had been confused—if the Empire could create such beautiful architecture, why had she not seen it before? Where was it on Elu? Where was it on the Kryton? Though the answer came soon enough the more she thought about it. Perhaps the Empire did not wish to waste frivolous resources on ships and backwater slave compounds; from what she understood, the Sith were currently at war with the Republic, so it would make sense that the most detailed constructions were not war machines or mines but places of interest, such as their academies.
Whatever the reason, Louise was still amazed with the beautiful work she saw around her as she moved. Apparently, there was even a garden somewhere near the science block, but that was not her goal in the end. Instead, she decided to look into her trial, perhaps ask whoever Inquisitor Zyn was about what it would entail. Already she dreaded finding out, especially considering her previous trial, but she at least wanted to know beforehand.
So, there she stood, in the middle of the prison, looking around for Zyn. The prison, much like the rest of the Academy, was quite large, but with a map, it was easier to navigate, especially as traffic seemed to be near non-existent.
As Louise looked, she could not help but feel drawn to the prisoners, her mind a flurry with questions on why they were imprisoned. Most looked underfed, empty with their wills crushed as they sat quietly in their cells. She tried talking to a few but stopped after all recoiled from her in terror, their eyes never reaching her own. It was… Louise did not know—for all she knew, they committed horrible, horrible crimes that made what Harkun did to Kory a mercy—but it still left an uncomfortable pit in her gut.
Louise shook her head, trying to avert her gaze as she went back to finding Zyn, but before she could leave the chamber she paused, something peculiar stopping her. It was a strange, unnatural to the pinkette. Like a white flame burning in the suffocating darkness… sterile and pure, burning away everything it touched, yet drowning by the tsunami of darkness around it. It was the Force, but not like the Force she had ever felt before. It was just... wrong.
Her curiosity piqued, Louise followed the strangeness to the other end of the chamber, a door standing between her and whatever was creating the sensation. She opened the door and the sounds of a man muttering under his breath drifted to her ears. "…Knowledge. There is no Passion, only Serenity. There is no Chaos, only Harmony…"
The room was small and square, lit by a single dull white light from above. The walls, like the rest of the prison, were a dark mahogany with beige brick flooring, but that was unimportant. No, instead it was the strange man who sat lotus style in the cold room, muttering under his breath. His head was lulled, as if he were tried, trying not to full asleep, but his posture was straight and orderly.
"Uh, hello?" Louise spoke, starting slightly as the door hissed closed behind her.
The man stopped his muttering, his eyes blinking opening, confusion spreading across his features as he regarded Louise with unfocused dark eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped, considering his words as his eyes darted around taking in the girl before her. The prisoner looked to be in horrible condition; his skin was pale and clammy, bruising could be seen on his arms and head, and he looked so thin.
"Your… your eyes," he said, voice slightly slurred and harsh, "they're pink. Your hair as well."
Louise blinked at the man's statement, looking just as confused as he was. "Yes…" she said slowly, "I was born like this."
The look he gave her could be surmised as 'that's bull, but okay,' but soon returned to confusion. "You're one of the acolytes, aren't you?" he asked, receiving a hesitant nod in reply—it was unnerving how eerily calm he was. "Wh… why are you here? Were you sent here by your dark masters?"
Dark masters? Louise thought befuddled. "No. I was looking for Inquisitor Zyn when I sensed something strange," she said. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
The man stared at her for the longest time, seemingly lost in a daze. "I… am a Jedi?" he said, sounding surprised by his own admission. Louise herself was a surprise; she had heard of the Jedi from Lord Juyn and what she heard was anything but good. "Yes, even in here, I am a Jedi Knight."
"I've never met a Jedi before," Louise admitted, and despite what she had heard, she was still curious about the Order. "What's your name?"
"Name? My name… Why would you…?" he trailed off, looking off into the distance. "I am Quorian Dorjis. Tell me, why… why would you talk to me? Why are you so civil? In all my time here on the planet, I have not been spoken to so courteously by anyone, no less an acolyte."
"I was just curious," Louise explained. "All I've learned about the Jedi were from Lord Juyn, and I'm curious about what they're like."
"I assume he was biased…" he muttered, seemingly far more lucid then he was before. "Do you wish to learn about the Jedi from me?"
"I guess," Louise said, sitting down on the floor.
"Well, ah…" he paused, hesitating. "Sorry, I don't know your name…"
"Louise."
"Ah, well, Louise," he began, perking up a bit. "I'm not much of a teacher, but I'll try my best. But to start, what have you been told?"
"Well," Louise began, trying to think back to the talks she had with Juyn over the months. "Lord Juyn said that you pretend to be peacekeepers of the galaxy while letting the Republic order you around. That, uh, the Jedi are hypocritical, preaching about peace and order but fighting and killing anyone who opposes…" She knew she could say more, but she did not want to insult the man before her. Personally, Louise did not know what she felt about what Juyn had said. Apparently, the Jedi had committed genocide upon the Sith, killing countless men, women and children, and destroying so much history and culture, but she did not know how much was true.
"Yes, that sounds like something the Sith would say to discredit us," Quorian said, not sounding amused at all. "The Jedi are fighters for peace and prosperity, we defend the galaxy against anyone who threatens it. It is true, we do fight, but we do so only as a last resort. We're polymaths, bringing peace across the galaxy, helping people with charity, volunteering and fighting against evil. We have fought in wars, yes, but we do not kill people just because they oppose us. We're merciful, not cruel monsters."
Whether or not he was talking about the Sith or not, Louise did not know, but the hints of venom in his voice were worrying. Nonetheless, he continued, "Much like the Sith, we have a code which is the core of our Order: 'There is no Emotion, only Peace. There is no Ignorance, only Knowledge. There is no Passion, only Serenity. There is no Chaos, only Harmony. There is no Death, only the Force.'
"We live by this code and it dictates how our Order is run. With our code, we try and do what is best for the galaxy and try to do good for everyone," he said.
Louise considered his words. The Jedi certainly sounded like a heroic and knightly order, but even then, there was a possibility that Quorian was lying—not only that, but his code was… uncomfortable to think on. 'There is no Emotion, only Peace,' was certainly the antithesis of the Sith, but the Jedi Code did not sound like something an order of peacekeeping warriors should hold.
Before she could think more about what she had learned, Quorian had a question for her. "Do you hate the Jedi?"
Louise blinked at the question, "No… I… I don't know?" she replied, unsure, not really knowing what to or to not think. "I didn't even know about the Jedi until late last year and only learned about the Sith a few weeks before that. I… I don't even know what's going on anymore." She knew it was stupid to break down at such a simple question, and she was certainly not going to cry, but she certainly felt like it.
"Are you okay?" asked Quorian.
"No."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
They sat in silence for a moment, neither party knowing how to continue, both thinking over what the other said. However, this silence soon ended after Louse found herself wishing a second opinion on something. "Can I ask you for your opinion on something?" she asked.
The Jedi nodded. "Yes, you may."
"I wanted to know…" Louise began, unsure of how to explain what happened, "recently, I was in an argument with someone and it soon became physical. Nobody got hurt, I don't actually think it was going to get dangerous. But during the fight, this person broke something that belonged to me on purpose. She didn't know it was a gift or anything and she tried apologising after… I'm asking whether I should accept her apology."
"I would say yes," Quorian, said. "As a Jedi, I would recommend it. I wouldn't know what a Sith would do…"
"Thank you, sir Dorjis," Louise replied, using the honorific usually associated with knights.
The Jedi looked pleased, though oddly confused. "This has been a very enlightening talk." he said joyfully, "I thank you for your kindness… despite your affiliation."
"Yes, think you as well," she replied.
"May the Force be with you."
Quickly remembering why she was in the prison, Louise quickly went about trying to find Inquisitor Zyn. Fortunately, it did not take long.
As she wandered through the prison, she was startled by a voice from behind her.
"Acolyte," the masculine voice said, drawing her attention, "you would happen to be Louise, would you?"
The owner of the voice was a large man, in both height and size, and was dressed in rich purple robes with a lightsaber hanging from his hip. His face was round, topped with short curly and grey hair and he had burgundy markings that looked like the rays of sunlight shooting from his mouth, along with long wings shooting from his eyes. It looked a bit like makeup, but she could tell they were tattoos.
"Uh, yes, my lord," Louise replied, inclining her head respectfully.
"Ah, you really do have pink hair and eyes…" he muttered with a slight smirk. "I am Inquisitor Zyn, I assume you are here for your trial?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Quite early… Come, come," he said jovially, gesturing for Louise to follow as he walked passed her, deeper into the prison, "your trial is this way."
They passed a few chambers and descended a staircase leading to the underground portion of the prison. It was here that Louise started to notice more people mulling about, mostly acolytes, armed guards and the hollow husks otherwise known as the prisoners. If she was unsure about how she felt before, she was extremely confused and disturbed.
Nevertheless, they continued walking on. However, the sight of the prisoners brought many questions to mind, more pressingly, "What is my trial?"
Inquisitor Zyn hummed as he walked, not answering her questions for quite a while until he said chipperly, "Interrogation. During your time as a slave, you were known to be submissive and obedient."
As he said this, Louise could not help but feel like closing in on herself, her mind casting back to the horrible punishments she was inflicted during her stay on Elu. Being submissive and obedient, even to the point of straining herself, was the only way to avoid such horror. She thought the coming of the Sith was providence as her punishments, as well as the punishments of the slaves around her, were lessened drastically—but now…?
The Inquisitor continued. "Here, however, you will be forced to break these chains and learn to control others, and I have just the trial for you." As he said this, the two approached a shut door, guarded by two Imperial Guardsmen. With a dramatic wave of his hand, the door opened, revealing a small chamber filled with what looked to be a series of what could only be torture tables. One was occupied. "Meet this drivelling excuse for an acolyte, Alif Orn. He will be your victim."
Louise could not help but stare at the acolyte in shock, her eyes wide as she asked, "Victim?"
"I personally prefer the word 'subject' myself," he said distastefully with a heavy sigh, "but most can only comprehend such crass terms." He shook her head. "A short while ago, there was a murder here in the Academy—a rivalry among apprentices resulted in death. Interrogate Alif; make him tell you who committed this crime at all cost."
Looking between Alif and Zyn, Louise waited for someone to jump out and tell her this was some practical joke. It had to be a joke. But there was no sign of it being a joke—there was no mischievous smirk tugging at Zyn's lips and the acolyte was beaten and bruised, laying bound with tight metal binds, his injuries far to realistic to be makeup. She was to interrogate the acolyte, perhaps even torture him.
…At all costs…
"Do you mean by any means?" Louise asked, dreading the answer. She would not, could not torture a man, especially an innocent one whose only crime being audience to a murder. She had killed; killed pirates and a murderous fallen acolyte, but torture? No. The idea made her feel sick.
"Yes, any. All I need is the name of the murderer. You could tap-dance the answer out of him, if you wished," he said offhandedly.
With this, Louise had to stop herself from sighing in relief. While she would not even try to 'tap-dance the answer out of him'—I don't even know what tap-dancing is! She thought—but knowing she was not being forced torture another to live was like a blessing from the gods—not that they've helped her with anything else. With this in mind, she walked over to Alif who, unfortunately, recoiled away from Louise. "Please, don't hurt me. I don't know anything…" he cried weakly, trying to struggle against his binds, but he seemed far too frail to do much.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she said, hoping beyond hope to calm the man down, her eyes washing over him—taking in each and every detail of his broken body. Upon closer inspection, the bruises against his arms seemed to be hand marks, her mind conjuring images of Alif struggling against the strong grip of the Academy guards. His nose seemed to be broken and his eye, bruised, as if a strong fist had attempted to knock him out with a punch; whether or not is succeeded was beyond Louise. He was dressed in a dishevelled acolyte uniform, matching his equally dishevelled short red hair. "I just want to know who murdered the other apprentice."
"Yeah, right," he replied despondently, regarding her with critical eyes. "I'll tell you right now, I don't know anything…"
"If that were true, you wouldn't be here," Louise said, a little bit of edge creeping into her voice—she did not wish to torture him but neither did she wish to die, and Alif was certainly not helping. "Please, let me help you. If you don't tell me, someone else would come in and they might not think twice about using more… painful means." She paused, letting what she said sink in. "Let me help you for your own benefit."
Alif was quiet for a time, staring at Louise with confused blue eyes. "I… don't understand. Why don't you just torture me and get it over with?"
Louise wanted to growl, or at least sigh tiredly. "Because I don't want to," she answered calmly, feeling the Inquisitor's eyes boring into her back. But she ignored him and focused on Alif, pleading clear in her eyes.
"You're a slave-caste, aren't you?" Alif asked, his gaze turning sad as he looked at her before turning away. "I—I can't tell you because he will kill me."
"If you tell me I will make sure you're safe," Louise said quickly, before even thinking.
Alif considered her words for a moment. "I… fine, I will tell you who the murderer is, but promise me that, that the murderer will get justice—that he won't come kill me."
Seeing her chance, Louise nodded eagerly. "I promise. You have my word that I will try everything in my power to make sure you are safe from the murderer and that he'll get the justice he deserves."
"As strange as it sounds coming from me, I appreciate that," Alif said before taking a deep, sobering breath before saying, "An apprentice named Esorr Kayin—I saw him murder another apprentice outside the second floor of the main library. Listen, his master is incredibly powerful… he won't let Kayin be punished. Kayin will kill me."
"Don't worry, I'll handle that," Louise replied, though not knowing precisely how she would.
"Thank you, I hope you know what you're doing," he said, relaxing back onto the torture table.
Louise turned, heading back to the Inquisitor, but before she could open her mouth to talk, he beat her to the punch. "You don't have to tell me," he said resignedly, holding up a hand to forestall any reply. "I heard the name loud and clear, though I sorely wish I hadn't. Esorr Kayin… Kayin's master is a Dark Council member. I'd be a fool to oppose him."
The pinkette's shoulders slouched—she only had a vague understanding of who the Dark Council was; a collection of twelve of the most powerful Sith Lords who served under the Emperor, governing over the Empire—but from what she knew, they were incredibly powerful and terrifying to oppose. Nevertheless, she needed to try to save Alif; her honour demanded it. "Isn't there something you could do for Alif?"
"Concerns for matters that are not your business is a weakness that can get you killed," chided the Inquisitor, his tone of voice taking on a nervous tinge. "I suggest you eliminate this undesirable trait as quickly as possible and forget about this acolyte."
"But, my lord, it is my business," Louise retorted, the edge in her voice returning quickly. "He—" She paused, quickly trying to think of a reason why it was her business that would be accepted by the Inquisitor, but quickly found nothing. So, instead, she tried to play on Zyn's emotions— "ah, you're not backing out because of the Council member, are you?"
The Inquisitor looked as if he was very much wanting to strangle Louise for the jab at his pride, and she would not put it past him. "And what would you suggest?" he argued. "I don't have the power to oppose a Councillor, and neither do you."
"Are you telling me that you're allowing yourself to be bullied?" Louise pressed, finding herself incensed that he was letting his wellbeing get in the way of justice.
The Inquisitor sighed. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to keep him here while the master of the murdered apprentice perused justice," Zyn proposed, however, Louise could still see a major flaw with the plan.
"Yes, leave him here, tied down to a table in a room that seems easy enough to open in a prison right next to the seat of the Dark Council," Louise replied sardonically. "At least get someone to guard him or, better, get him off-world!"
The Inquisitor seemed to consider her ultimatums for a moment. "Getting him off-world is no simple matter… but there is a Darth on Dromund Kaas who owes me a favour…" For a moment, he looked thoughtful as if trying to remember their name. "I'll make sure she takes this fool as her apprentice. He'll be out of Kayin's reach, but from there, he's on his own."
"Thank you, my lord."
He shook his head. "Now, onto the business of your trail; before I send my commendations to Harkun, I would like to ask you a question to… better understand and grade you."
"Yes, my lord?"
"You said that you did not wish to torture him. Why?" the Sith asked. The question was innocent enough, considering the subject matter, but Louise knew that the answer would either gain Zyn's respect or would make her lose favour.
"It depends on the… subject," Louise tried to explain. "His only crime was being a witness, so torture was unnecessary and unjust. Had he committed the murder, or had he continued to hide the murderer's identity, I would have thought differently." It was a lie; Louise had no idea what she would do if he had been an actual criminal or had he stayed quiet. She just could not see herself torturing the man.
"Interesting," he said, stroking his chin. "Acolyte, you have an usual approach. Watch that it doesn't get you into trouble," the Inquisitor said, sounding quite amused and even proud despite the warning. "Anyway, your trial here is done. You are free to go."
"Thank you, my lord," replied Louise, bowing in respect before turning to leave, briefly looking to a thankful Alif.
With that, she existed the chamber, quickly leaving the prison entirely. As she did, her stomach gurgled, reminding her that food was a thing—it was funny, she often forgot that she could have more than a single meal a day. Checking the time on her datapad, she found that it was quite late in the day, near dinner time according to her schedule. With this, she decided to check out one of the various mess halls or canteens around the Academy.
...
Louise… honestly had no idea where she was. She knew she was at one of the many canteens, but where in relation to the main administration building of the Academy, she was completely lost. The canteen was attached to what seemed to be one of the various science buildings—xenobiology, last she checked.
Large enough to fit over one-hundred patrons, the place was filled with quite a few Sith and acolytes, each enjoying their food and drinks. It looked nothing like any eateries she had visited, whether it be the more technologically advanced than the Academy of Magic's Alvíss Dining Hall or the mess hall of the slave compound—it was nicer, with chairs that were far more comfortable and crafted finely, though they were built less for nobility and more for the average student. These chairs were grouped in fours with, around small metal benches, all built for the economic use of space rather than personal space, with a long counter filled with food built off to the right of the canteen.
Quickly paying for a tray of food for herself—made up entirely of foodstuffs that she recognised, such as steaks, and vegetables—she drifted by several of the tables, looking for a place to sit. As she searched, her eyes caught a familiar figure, freezing slightly as she wondered what the odds were of the two deciding to eat in this particular eatery at this particular time. However, she could come up with no reason, so, instead, Louise was met by another issue: should she ignore the crimson-skinned girl, or should she get it over with and sit with the girl to discuss their… not too stellar first meeting.
In the end, Louise decided to get it over with.
Taking a deep breath, Louise waded past the multitude of benches, a part of her mind desperately shouting at her to turn back. But before it could make an effect, she arrived at the table. Lyira sat quietly, eating what looked like some type of red soup, unaware of the pinkette standing behind her.
"Hey, um," she began, her sudden voice startling Lyira who's head snapped towards her, surprise and confusion plain in her eyes, "is this seat taken?"
"…I'm sorry?" Lyira replied, her confusion growing as her surprise faded away.
"I asked if the seat was taken," Louise repeated awkwardly, gesturing to the empty seats surrounding her.
"Um, no, it's not…"
Slumping into the chair opposite the Pureblood, Louise began to dig into her meal, feeling quite uncomfortable with the silence that hung over the two. Louise wanted to speak, but could not find the words, and so waited to see if Lyira would start the conversation, only it seemed the Pureblood was at a loss as well. So, it was halfway through her meal that Louise finally decided to start. "I… uh, finished my second trial…"
"That was quick. I still have mine to finish…" replied the Pureblood, softly.
The awkward silence fell once again, and once again, it was ended by the pinkette. "I…" Louise began, uncertain, "I wanted to thank you for the gift and…I'm… I'm sorry that I hit you… "
Lyira took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry I ruined your clothes as well… I didn't know they meant so much."
"It was a gift…" she mumbled.
"Oh, well, still I'm sorry," the Sith restated awkwardly. "Listen, I, um, don't think this is the best place to discuss this, we should take it back to the dorm."
Louise could not help but agree.
The two quickly finished their meals, rising up from the bench before depositing their dishes at the counter. With that done, the two left the canteen, heading off towards their dorm. It was roughly ten to twenty minutes before they arrived at the dorms and another five before they arrived at their room. Once they entered, Lyira closed the door, before lounging on one of the nearby chairs; Louise chose her bed as her seat.
"So…" Louise began, "I, uh, wanted to explain my actions yesterday."
"You don't have to—"
"No, no," she interrupted, "I just wanted to say that the fight yesterday was less about you and more about everything that went on. Yesterday was not… it was horrible—and then what you said, it reminded me of someone who used to make my life a living hell; teasing me, insulting me endlessly. Yesterday was just a melting pot of everything horrible that's happened coming back," she said, only to add at Lyira's questioning gaze. "I don't want to discuss it."
"Does it have to do wit—"
"I don't want to discuss it," Louise repeated firmly.
The two fell into a silence once again, neither knowing how to continue. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes until Lyira tried her best to resurrect the conversation. "So, what should we do to make sure the fight doesn't happen again?"
"Well, for one, no training in the nude," Louise decreed half-jokingly, feeling some vindictive pleasure from seeing the outraged expression on her roommate's face.
"No! It is far better to train in the nude, especially in the Academy," Lyira said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"No, it isn't."
"Yes, it is."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yeah."
"Fine," Louise shouted, "give me one reason why training nude is better, and I will let you."
"Simple: budgeting," Lyira replied simply. "Training makes me sweaty and my clothes dirty. Dirty clothes take credits to clean, just as every other amenity. So, the fewer clothes I get dirty a month, the more credits I can save when we get our monthly pay which I can spend on other things such as food, repairs and even buying new stuff."
Louise smouldered at Lyira—the Pureblood's point was valid, but that only made her resent it more.
"You sure try it," the Pureblood muttered.
"Why would I do that!?" Louise asked, scandalised.
"I just gave you your reasons."
"I'm still not going to do it," she said stubbornly.
"Don't knock it till you try it," Lyira replied.
"Ugh, you're insufferable! Why did I agree to this?" Louise asked rhetorically, only to add a quick, "Don't answer that," when the Sith opened her mouth.
"Fine. If you want to waste your money, then go for it. But I'm going to continue regardless."
Louise continued to smoulder at the girl, but there was no malice in her eyes, just resignation. She knew it was going to be a long year, and—if she survived—she knew Lyira would certainly make it very interesting.
AN: This is as far as the rewrite goes. Continue at your own risk for shitty writing or wait until the next rewrite is up. You will know the next one is up because I would have posted the next chapter of Act II