Prologue
Peace is a lie, there is only passion. This was the central tenet from which the Sith Order and by extension the Empire as a whole were built upon. The Sith Code offered power unimaginable and it all began by accepting the first fundamental truth of the galaxy, the concept of peace was as worthless as the word itself. Remembering this gave all the assurance Overseer Falakan could ever need in pursuit of his duties and belief that one day the Empire would triumph totally over the weak Republic. However, a war could not be won without strong warriors to secure it.
Across the Empire the unending search for force sensitives continued and those deemed worthy enough were shipped off to facilities much like the one Overseer Falakan controlled. At one of these training facilities the fortunate citizens of the Empire began their initial training which would culminate one day, hopefully, in their becoming Sith. The training was harsh, the instructors cruel but this was necessary to forge the strongest possible generation to take up the fight. This, of course, all began with the initiates learning the Sith Code and taking it to heart. A task that, while necessary, was not without its inherent difficulties.
True Sith seek power, never fully satisfied with their current standing and this can manifest itself in all areas of life including training. Belief in the code inevitably led initiates to test the limits of their fellow students and openly discredit them to lower their position within the training facility. Often this drive even took the form of excessive violence and while this was to be encouraged to an extent – only the strongest were fit to be Sith, after all – it was also necessary to retain some level of control over it. Failure to do so resulted in the pointless death of initiates. Over the years, Overseer Falakan had written off hundreds of initiates who had fallen to their fellows; some had been of little consequence while others had been very promising indeed and so their loss was irritating. The Sith Order was still in need of numbers following the last war and too many unnecessary and unapproved deaths hindered progress. It was one thing for one initiate to kill another under the orders of an overseer but any fool could kill a gifted warrior while they slept. It was simply a waste and one that had to have repercussions.
So it was that Overseer Falakan sat at the desk in his office, waiting, with one finger tapping on the polished metal of the smooth top and his eyes staring at a hastily made holo report. He had already read it several times and so did not truly look at it but rather through it as his mind worked. There had been an altercation involving a group of initiates, which had ended when a pair of the facility guards happened upon them. Four with minor injuries, two more severely wounded, two dead and one with only a few scrapes and bruises. It was the latter who was being brought before Falakan by the order of the overseer himself after he had read the report. It was this initiate whom the guards witnessed choking the last bit of life from one of the two deceased. The report of course listed the numbers of all involved and the one in question was initiate 263413 and this was what caught Falakan's attention when he had been about to retire for the evening. Time and again he had noticed this initiate and sensed a deep potential hanging just out of reach that 263413 never seemed willing to leap for. Perhaps he had finally done it. Overseer Falakan had to know for sure and that meant seeing the initiate in person.
The overseer's eyes refocused on the report, looking at the deceased once more. Initiates 121413 and 181413 had both been exceptional, truly destined for great things within the empire. After tonight, however, their stories were over. Two more who could have been – should have been Sith but were taken from the order. Falakan allowed himself a moment to lament the waste but no more than that. If things work out as I predict then their deaths will have been a small price to pay. A small smile crept across the overseer's face as the thought hanged there before his mind's eye.
A pinging tone from his desk quickly forced the smile away. The overseer mustn't give anything away needlessly. Falakan tapped a button, opening a comlink. The mechanical voice of his droid assistant quickly came through.
"Your audience has arrived, Overseer."
"Send them in," came the curt response.
"At once, Overseer." The transmission ended without another word. Mere moments later the door to Falakan's office slid open. One of the facility guards stepped in quickly before bowing his head in difference.
"Initiate 263413 as requested, Overseer," said the man. He then stepped aside and a fairly large man in the plain gray clothes of an initiate walked in submissively. A second guard entered and the door closed behind him as the guards each took up a position standing next to and slightly behind the initiate.
Falakan eyed up the initiate before him. His dark hair was cut short as was common among the initiates. He was almost as tall as the guards, whom the overseer knew stood well over six feet, and looked nearly their equal physically. Falakan found himself recalling 263413 often did well and even excelled in unarmed combat. His opponents often focusing too much on his size and failing to consider that he may have any training which in fact he had gained even before coming to the facility or so was stated in his profile. Such things were of little importance though. Falakan was looking for something much more important than the physical. His brows furrowed as he stared at the young man standing slouched to the side and head lowered just enough that his eyes were hidden. The overseer didn't believe the posture was out of laziness or an unwillingness to meet eyes but rather something more…existential.
"How does it feel to have blood on your hands?" The overseer's question seemed to reach its mark as the initiate shifted uncomfortably, as though struck. Falakan waited patiently for the initiate to respond. When one of the guards motioned to strike 263413, Falakan gave the barest shake of his head to prevent it. He wanted the answer to be truthful and not forced.
"Like I have a debt to pay," came the low and simple reply. Falakan smiled and leaned forward, hands clasped together.
"Whom do you serve?"
"I serve the Empire." There was no hesitation this time and though it was not the best answer it still satisfied the overseer. Close enough, it'll do.
"I'll be honest," began Falakan, leaning back in his chair, "I don't really care what happened this evening with you and the others." Emotions began to flow from the initiate freely. Falakan's words had forced a crack in the walls put up by the initiate, unleashing waves of anger and…remorse? Curious.
"Look at me, initiate 263413." The man obeyed and finally cold blue eyes stared back at the overseer. What Falakan saw nearly forced a smile to his face. He took a moment to compose himself before continuing.
"Whatever disagreement caused your little scuffle is unimportant but the results cannot be ignored. Two students of this facility under my command are now dead, however, and their deaths came without my permission. Do you understand what that means?" The initiate straightened as the overseer spoke, the tone of the words dispelling the fog of detachment and revealing some discipline.
"A debt must be paid," came the even toned response. This time Falakan allowed a small smile to show as he nodded.
"Merely the beginning. Tomorrow morning you will be made an example to the other initiates. Understood?"
"Yes, Overseer," replied the man with a bow. Falakan was about to dismiss the three men but hesitated a moment as one more question came to mind.
"What is your name? The one you had before coming here?" The question seemed to take the initiate off-guard but he quickly recovered and the mask of discipline returned.
"Glailen Reichscher," he said simply. Well, Glailen Reichscher, you think your life will be changed forever after tonight and I'm happy to say you are correct.
"Try to get through tomorrow with some dignity intact and you may find your fortunes improved." A look of confusion came over Glailen's face but Falakan paid it no mind, pretending to turn to something more important on his vidscreen.
"Take him to the penal cells. Inform Overseer Courus that the punishment is to be carried out before morning meal. Dismissed." Without another word, all three men departed; Glailen letting all of his questions go unanswered. It was a good sign that he knew when to speak and when to do as he was told.
Overseer Falakan found himself alone in his office once more but this time he wasn't planning on retiring for the evening. Not just yet. There was an important call to make and he wasn't interested in saving it for the following day. It wouldn't be entirely inaccurate to say the overseer was excited. After taking a few moments to consider the upcoming conversation, Falakan input a holonumber into his desk terminal and waited. First the connection had to be established across worlds and then he would have to wait for the call to be answered. It was quite possible the person he was calling would be unavailable but something in the force gave Falakan confidence that now was the time. It seemed as though Falakan hadn't waited long at all before a notification from the terminal indicated the call was answered. Immediately a voice spoke from the other side.
"This had better be important." The overseer smiled, feeling everything fall in place, before responding.
"Tremel. Always a pleasure. I hope all is well?" The force was not needed for Falakan to sense the disapproval from the other man. He could clearly picture the scowl spread across Tremel's face.
"I mean it, Falakan. I'm much too busy dealing with Baras' maneuvering to waste time with idle chat. The future of the Sith is at stake." It was an effort for Falakan to suppress his own annoyance; Tremel could be rather dramatic with his self-appointed duty to save the Sith. Falakan did not share the other man's worries for the future of the Sith but if they could help each other then Falakan would cooperate.
"Yes, Baras, good of you to mention your ever-present problem. You asked me to keep an eye out for a potential solution within this facility. I believe I have."
"We've already discussed this; she won't do." By Tremel's tone he was losing patience quickly but Falakan was not worried as he dismissed their previous conversation.
"No, not her. She is no longer an option, shall we say. In any case I have a new candidate and I believe there will be no doubt with him." There were a few moments of silence as Falakan waited for the other man to respond. No doubt the other overseer, stationed on Korriban, was hesitant to take any risks while at the same time desperate for an answer to his predicament.
"There can be no room for error, Falakan. Why haven't you mentioned this person before? I know you haven't received any new arrivals."
"No," agreed Falakan, "this one has been held back. Holding himself back, I believe, but things change. Tomorrow, I'll send you the files on the initiate as well as some footage that will no doubt be quite telling." When Glailen receives his punishment the following day, Falakan was certain the initiate would show promising fortitude and that would help Falakan's case.
"Very well," replied Tremel with his talent for the dramatic.
"And I'm sure you won't be so excited by this find that you'll forget who brought it to your attention."
"Enough, Falakan. I will keep my word so long as you are not wasting my time."
"I wouldn't dream of it, Tremel," responded Falakan in what could almost be a comradery tone. Could he really be blamed if he was feeling some sense of joy? Emotions were what gave Sith their power, after all.
"Of course not." Tremel disconnected without another word leaving Falakan once more in silence.
For a long time, Overseer Falakan sat and stared at nothing. He let his thoughts run wild with possibilities for the future. For years he had been left at this facility for training initiates, growing weaker with the banal existence of each passing day. Days had turned to weeks and weeks to months and so on as Falakan allowed his frustrations with being forgotten on this little planet to fuel his resolve to escape and truly show his worth to the empire. Another war was coming, everyone knew it, and Falakan would be damned before he allowed himself to spend any of it sitting at a desk reading reports of children killing each other for the chance to be the next Darth Malgus. Glailen was his ticket off this world and Tremel was going to arrange the transport. No more waiting.