Chapter 9
"There is no planet far enough, no fortress strong enough, no hole dark enough, where my wrath cannot reach you. It doesn't matter where you hide. It doesn't matter what walls you secret yourself behind. Nowhere is safe for you. My fury reaches across the galaxy. You will be dragged forth, and I will slaughter you for all to see. The entire empire will watch you die a coward, lower than the meanest slave, and they will know the rage of Darth Aajiwron."
--The Holocron of Darth Aajiwron, a treasure of the Korriban Sith Academy
"Remarkable," said a voice. I was trying to maintain a steady pace towards Harkun's office, which was at the end of the hallway, when someone interrupted my frantic plans of how I might escape or fight back if the overseer decided to kill me or let Ffon do it. "You, slave!" It was actually a very helpful intrusion. I didn't stop or turn around, but some of my fear was supplanted by anger at that hated moniker being thrown around so casually. Harkun had only given me ten minutes' warning, and I was almost out of time.
"No, wait," said the woman, coming closer. "Acolyte." I paused then, curious as to who might want to talk to me. It was a tall blond human woman wearing the armored trappings of a sith lady. I bowed to her.
"You're the one who brought me this magnificent holocron from the City of Marka Ragnos, yes?" she asked. I instantly realized who this had to be.
"Yes, Lady Zash," I said. "I retrieved the holocron."
"Unbelievable," she continued, stepping forward until she stood less than a meter away, staring at me like she wanted to memorize every facet of my face. "A thousand years buried that tomb, sith lords passing it by, and then the most unlikely person comes along. Tell me: How did you manage it?" She moved even nearer, but I didn't dare flinch away. To lie, or to be honest?
"The monument seemed to like blood," I said, "so I slaughtered a pack of tukata singlehandedly and got it to open." Every word true, but much more impressive than saying I zapped it with a blast of lightning and it opened on its own.
"Really? How strange," she murmured. "That didn't work when I tried it." My heart skipped a beat. "But perhaps I was just not meant to open it." Far from seeming upset, the sentiment appeared to delight her.
"Your work this far--in bringing back the Holocron from the City of Marka Ragnos, and now this marvelous text from the Valley of Tulak Hord--has me intrigued. I am watching your progress eagerly," she said, raising one hand as if to pet my fur. I didn't flinch, but she didn't quite touch me.
"Due to the slave rebellion in the area and Lord Rikam's orders, I was unable to finish locating all of the obelisks before I had to present the project to Overseer Harkun," I blurted quickly, realizing that this was my chance. I pulled out my datapad and opened the latest scans. "I have since found the rest of the text and translated it." I offered her my datapad, and her eyes widened as she swiped quickly through the images of carvings.
"Remarkable. I have high hopes for you, acolyte. Sky high." She smiled proudly at me, and my confidence soared.
"I will live up to them, Lady Zash," I assured her.
"Good Luck, acolyte," she said. "Good Luck."
"I was just about to send Ffon off! What delayed you, slave?" demanded Harkun the second I entered his office.
"Well, first Lady Zash stopped me to tell me how amazing I am, and then we got talking, and I guess I lost track of time," I gloated. Her words had banished my previous fears and even Harkun's tone and insults wouldn't move me.
"Just like a slave to make up stories," Ffon snarled. I hummed smugly at him, and it made him angrier than losing my temper would have.
"Lady Zash would crush you like a gizka if you ever crossed her path," Harkun agreed. "You're not worthy of her presence."
"Lady Zash didn't seem to think so," I drawled.
"What are we waiting for, Overseer?" Ffon burst out, fidgeting eagerly. "Why don't we kill this wretch now?"
"You have a big mouth, slave, but no combat skills," Harkun said. "I don't want to see your face until the combat instructors are satisfied. There is a training facility on the fourth floor, typically reserved for Sith Lords and their apprentices. This is not a promotion. You are not to speak to anyone there except for the training master, understand?"
"Please tell me Ffon can come? We'll have so much fun," I said, eyeing my opponent. I knew he was better than me at saber combat, but I'd seen his attempts to use lightning and I was pretty confident that I could stun and kill him before he could kill me as long as I managed to keep out of his reach.
"Ffon has been training at combat his whole life!" bellowed Harkun. I guess I'd struck a nerve. "He was born to be sith. You're just as likely to chop your arm off. Now get going. You don't want to keep the instructors waiting."
The private training room was towards the top of the Sith Academy. It was quiet; there were practice dummies, but no training droids anywhere. Even the lights were off. I stepped into the room, the door shutting behind me, tossed my cloak to the side, and drew my blade to practice my forms until the instructor arrived.
"Hello, there, friend," said a voice. I had missed seeing them from where they stood in dark, opposite corners. The twins walked forward, and I prudently moved backwards so that a skylight would provide us more illumination. "You remember us from downstairs, with Harkun, right?"
"Sorry it had to be this way," said the one with a deep whip scar across his cheeks and nose.
"We don't like it any more than you do," said his brother, but his little smirk belied his statement. "Well, maybe a little more."
"That sounds vaguely like a threat," I said, backing away even more as they situated themselves in front of the door. "What did I ever do to you guys?"
"I'm sorry girl," said the scarred one. He seemed ashamed; he could barely meet my gaze. "I really liked you." That past tense, more than anything, told me exactly what was happening here. I began to shift uneasily from side to side, trying to take in everything in the training room that might be to my advantage without being too overt.
My opponents were large and strong, with long limbs and muscular shoulders that made me very hesitant to want to cross blades with one of them, let alone both at the same time. I'd seen them training with the masters, and what they lacked in finesse and skill they made up for in brute crushing force. The door to the main academy was my best escape, since once we were away from this room and into the halls, the surveillance cameras would pick us up and I'd be safe from their attacks. They seemed well aware of that fact, as they casually blocked my path. There was a refresher at the side of the room, but I would only trap myself in there, assuming I could even lock the door. At the other end of the hall, a door led to the outside training area; I could see from the green glow of the handle that it was open. Perhaps there was a path to freedom from there?
"But Harkun made us a deal, see?" continued the bolder one. I snapped my focus on him. Harkun had arranged this? My fear surged into anger at his attempts to cheat. If I made it out of here, I would kill him for this. "We kill you, we go home."
"What?" I recognized that my fangs were showing, making my accent and lisp stronger, but I was too stunned by their admission to suppress it.
"We don't want to, but we know we'll never beat Ffon, and we'll never be sith," admitted the coward. "At least this way, we get to go home. Alive."
"Oh yes, because OF COURSE Harkun will keep his words to cowardly slave filth," I growled. "You kill me and the reward is slavery again? You really don't deserve to be sith. You're nothing. You disgust me."
"The time for talk is past," ordered the brash twin. He was angry? Well, so was I. The prospect that a former slave would willingly go back to that life--that made me even angrier than Harkun's betrayal. "Fight for your life, acolyte."
I blasted him with a jolt of lightning that stunned him for a second as his brother pulled out his vibroblade and lunged forward at me. I blocked his stroke, but he forced me back by the sheer weight of his charge. I zapped him too, and the fight was truly on.
I was quicker than both of them, but they battered me backwards every time I managed to block a blow. I had improved my swordsmanship, because I was almost keeping up with them. I ducked behind a training dummy as one of them launched a powerful strike at my head, which toppled forward between us and bought me an extra couple of seconds. I darted to the outer door and jerked it open, running out into the harsh Korriban sun. It took my eyes a few moments to adjust, but when they did, my heart sank. I stood on a private balcony which was hundreds of feet above the ground. The academy walls blocked me in on one side with sheer stone cliffs on another and nothing but a deadly fall lining the rest of the edge. I was trapped.
"Nowhere to run, girl!" gloated the aggressive twin as he and his brother leisurely followed me outside. They weren't even sweating, damn them! They were playing with me. "Time to give it up!" They deliberately moved to surround me, one on each side of me, but instead of backing away, I let them get almost within blade range before I struck.
I leapt into the air and slammed my blade flat onto the ground, channeling electricity through the weapon as Inquisitor Samus had shown me. Just as I'd practiced, a wave of force lighting erupted around me and rushed outwards, blasting my opponents backwards. One of the twins flew back into the academy walls but managed to land on his feet. The other was not so fortunate. With a shriek of terror, he was flung out over the railing and into empty space. He screamed for more than a full second before he hit the ground far below.
"Balek!!" The force-enhanced bellow knocked me off my feet, sending me tumbling head over heels across the hot stone. He rushed to the balcony's edge and sobbed as he stared down at the remains of his brother. I almost felt bad at his obvious grief, but then again, they were trying to kill me, and I wanted to live. My chances were a lot better now that the fight was more even.
Or, at least, I thought they were. The surviving twin turned to me as I staggered to my feet, his face dark with rage, and charged me. I hit him with a stream of lightning, but he shook it off and kept coming, his fury giving him the strength and focus in the dark side he needed to press through the electrocution. I swung my vibroblade at his body, but he knocked it away with ease and grabbed my wrist, holding it to the side as he backhanded me with his vibroblade pommel so hard I felt something shatter in my face. My vision went blurry and I couldn't hold my Force lightning.
He was spluttering with rage, threats and insults and nonsense spewing forth in equal measure. I hadn't quite regained my footing when he took my wrist in both hands and broke it. I cried out and dropped my sword, unable to grip anymore, and he kicked it away. I tried to summon more lightning, but he simply shifted his grip on my arm and snapped the bone in a new place, and then broke my elbow.
"We would've made this quick," he said as I struggled to breathe through the agony. He slapped me again and then threw me against the side of the academy. "Now this'll be as slow and painful as I can make it." Using his shoulder to pin me against the wall, he grabbed my unbroken hand and started dislocating my fingers one by one as I screamed in pain.
But in that, he'd made a mistake. If I'd been human, he would've been fine. But I was Cathar. I had natural weapons in my claws and fangs, and he'd just brought himself within striking distance. Until now I had never even considered such a depraved act, but I'd never been this desperate before, either. I didn't hesitate.
I sank my teeth into his neck and ripped, feeling his blood fill my mouth and gush over my clothes. The bitter, salty taste made me gag as the shame of attacking him like an animal fueled my rage. He choked as I spat the mouthful of skin and muscle onto the stone terrace. I clawed his face as best I could with my broken arm, destroying one eye at least as he stumbled back to try to defend himself and regroup. I didn't give him the chance. I pressed my dislocated fingers against his chest and channeled lightning straight into his heart. He spasmed, falling unmoving to the ground.
I stood over my enemy, feeling relief and triumph and shame and agony and fury. He wasn't quite dead, just stunned, but his stillness gave me a moment to gather myself. I didn't dare wait and hope he would just bleed to death. I tried to concentrate through my pain, feeling the force around me slowly wrap around the former acolyte at my feet. It took me far too long to get him to the edge of the balcony. I tried pushing him manually, but my injuries were too much, so I returned to lifting him with the force until finally, finally, he plummeted to join his brother in death.
