"I cannot believe I am expected to share a room with you miscreants."

The first words Fiachra heard emerging up the stairs did not fill her with confidence. She could already feel a nervous tension in her stomach, and her feet refused to carry her further. She stood in the stairwell, just around the corner from the Dormitory, and listened to the voices echoing through the temple. She could feel a cold sweat forming on her brow, and she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing again, making an attempt to stave off an attack.

She focused on what she could hear. There were at least three people in the next room, perhaps more. The voice that spoke before was complaining about the room. He was haughty, arrogant. He spoke condescendingly to the others, as though he believed he was above them. There was a strong Imperial accent there, but something else, something she did not recognize. A slight metallic clink when he spoke.

Another voice rose to challenge the first. "You are such a wuss, Zhejari. What's the matter? Too high and mighty to get a little dirt on your face?" Female, a hearty voice. No trace of fear. Her accent was subtle, but present. She spoke with a confidence that Fiachra was envious of.

The first voice, Zhejari, spoke again. "Not all of us like to run around looking like we just took a roll in our filth, Sesna. " The last word was pointed, as though he meant it as an insult. Was that the girl's name? Or was he cursing at her in some unknown dialect? Fiachra leaned in closer to the wall to attempt to hear more.

The girl laughed. "Maybe you could use a good roll around, Sith. Might loosen you up a bit." She snorted when she laughed, unabashed. "Oh ho, look at you! I didn't think those cheeks of yours could get any redder!"

"Will you two shut up?" A third voice. Also male, but softer than Zhejari's. "Haran'buir is supposed to take us on a hunt today, and I'd rather not spend the first hour running laps because you two can't stay out of each other's faces." He was older than Fiachra, but not by much. There was a tone in his voice that she recognized. She heard on many young men who sought her company at their celebrations on Nar Shaddaa. Instinctively, her abdomen clenched, and she feared that she had made a terrible mistake.

A quick movement from the corner of her eye caused her to whirl around in a panic. The hallway was ...I saw something... She had little time to react. The sudden movement had caused her to lose her foothold on the final step, and she tumbled into the dormitory, landing on her back with a profound lack of grace.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" There were more people in the room than she had expected. Her five new classmates all witnessed her drop into the room like a sack of tubers, and now two of them were helping her to her feet. She felt a hot flush of blood in her cheeks. Great, they all think I'm an idiot. The urge to flee from the room was rising, but she remained as calm as she could as two girls helped her to a chair near the entryway.

"That was quite a fall, miss. Did you hit your head at all?"

"No, I..." She stopped as she looked into the face of the girl who asked her the question. Or rather, what she could see of her. The voice had emitted from a cold, metal mask that covered the wearer's face entirely. She was clad from head to toe in long robes, not a single inch of skin was exposed. "I...I'm sorry. I fell."

The girl in the mask nodded. "That is correct, miss. Is your vision blurred at all?"

"Relax, Nila. I gave her a quick scan. She'll be alright. Little hurt pride, is all." A new voice. A lean Torgruta female with a prosthetic leg turned and leaned against the stone wall of the temple. "It's okay, kid. You shoulda seen these two on the first day," She pointed a thumb at the two males on the other side of the room. "Zhejari looked like he never ran a day in his life, all the tripping he did. And Khalon nearly lost a tooth when he took a branch to the face."

The Sith, Zhejari, a tall young man with a powerful frame and bright red skin, frowned and scoffed at the accusation. The other one, who she had called Khalon, a lankly young man with long blonde hair, just grinned and leaned back in his chair. "It's true, kiddo." Khalon said. "I'm sure we'll be seeing plenty of each other in embarrassing positions. Don't sweat it."

"Oh honey," A red-haired Zabrak girl, the one called Sesna, took Fiachra's hands. She fought the urge to draw her hands away, but Sesna obviously had little understanding of personal space. "Don't you worry that pretty face a bit. What's your name, hon?"

"I'm...Fiachra."

"That's a very pretty name, Fiachra. I'm Sesna. This," she gestured to the robe-clad girl in the mask. "Is Nila-Om, from Voss. The one with the leg back there is Kaikorero. The blonde who is way too excited about this being a co-ed dorm is Khalon. And the bubbling mess of testosterone with the stick up his butt is Zhejari." Sesna smiled at her. "Welcome to the Academy!"

Fiachra managed a weak smile and waved to the group. She was cursing herself for being unable to think of something to say. Thankfully, she was saved from that interaction by the sound of a loud horn blaring from outside.

"Finally." Zhejari tugged at his gloves, ensuring they were in place. "I cannot believe we don't have an open kitchen here."

"Dinner time, new kid." Kaikorero said as she headed for the stairs. "Get a move on."

Sesna helped Fiachra to her feet, and put an arm around her waist as she walked her over to the stairs. Fiachra was wildly uncomfortable with this contact, but was too afraid to say something about it. "Chow time. Come on, I want to hear all about you."

Khalon smirked as they passed his chair. Sesna made a rude gesture towards him. "Kiss my butt, Khalon."

"Ask me nicely." The boy leaned forward in the chair, dropping its front two legs back on the floor and propelling him into a standing position.

A moment later, the newest class of the Halcyon Academy was upstairs around the dinner table, enjoying their salads and steaks, arguing and flirting. The dorm the left behind was empty.

Or so it seemed.

Had any of the class been present, they might have heard a quiet, satisfactory chuckle float through the air.