Parents - 3661.259 BY
Zanleya deftly twirled her lightsaber, spinning the double bladed weapon round to slash left then right, each move carefully and precisely executed, felling first one opponent then the next. In reality she only held a training staff, but in her mind it was the lethal weapon of the Sith and every swing and swipe hew limbs and heads from imaginary opponents. Now that Harkun had permitted her to use a double bladed weapon during practice she was faring better, although she was yet to fight anybody outside of the simple drills. She was relieved that Traz seemed to have forgotten her for the time being, having beaten her to within a millimetre of her life a fortnight ago, he appeared to be satisfied. The mere thought of him caused her to scowl and the next three imaginary foes she eviscerated all bore his sneering rattataki face. Despite large amounts of kolto she still had a bandage around her midriff and it was not an injury she bore with pride.
Zanleya swiftly performed the blademasters dance, practicing her moves, boots patting out a regular rhythm on the flat roof. She was on top of one of the Academy's many wings, the ancient orangey stone beneath her and the valley of the Dark Lord's before her. The sun was slowly setting over the horizon in a blaze of crimson glory and as it sank darkness crept in, long fingers of shadow spreading from the many statues that lined the valley. The air was warm, the stone around her still radiating the scorching heat of the day yet tempered by a gentle breeze blowing in from the plains. It was a nice spot, quiet, private and cool enough to practice comfortably.
As she spun her staff to cut down another fictitious nemesis her force awareness alerted her to a presence behind her. She snapped round in a flash, staff raised and ready to strike whomever it was that dared creep up on her. Stood a few metres away was a young lady, the newcomer smiling with mild amusement, her expression only just visible beneath the dark hood. The lady was clad in close fitting black robes and a combination of the dim light and raised hood all but concealed her face, although Zanleya could see enough to make out that she was human. Her build was slight but it was immediately apparent from her posture that she knew how to handle herself in a fight. Small black pauldrons covered her shoulders and her hands were gloved, red marks on her light armour and belt finished the menacing visage. She stood tall with a poise that oozed confidence, as if the practicing acolyte was not a threat in the slightest.
"Why don't you lower your stick, I'm not planning on hurting you," the Sith greeted cooly. Zanleya held her pose, eyeing up the intruder as if weighing up her chances of beating her in a duel… before spotting the lightsaber clipped to the newcomer's utility belt. Zanleya lowered her arms in resignation, it could slice through her staff in a single blow. Given that the Sith possessed a lightsaber she doubted her odds of winning in a contest of force prowess either… and that meant she was at the newcomer's mercy, not a situation she approved of. Rules forbade outright murder in the Academy and while technically she was on top of it rather than in it the thought gave her a modicum of consolation. If it came to it though, she thought, she could name drop her master. For, whilst he was not on the Dark Council, he had a fearsome reputation and would not take kindly to somebody taking a swing at his apprentice for no good reason. All this she considered in a few seconds, preparing herself for as many potential outcomes as she could.
"What do you want?" Zanleya demanded, her eyes never straying from the Sith.
"I was actually just coming to investigate the presence I felt above my chambers," the lady replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. "It doesn't usually bode well when people climb above the room in which you sleep." Zanleya's brain raced, quickly trying to place in her mind what was below her in the Academy. Western halls, third wing… it was the residential wing for young Lords she realised, whoever it was that stood before her was without a doubt her superior. As much as she hated it, she recognised that deference and begging forgiveness was the safest way out of what could rapidly become a bad predicament.
"Sorry my Lord, I just wanted somewhere private to practice," Zanleya apologised with all the humility she could muster. One day, she swore to herself, she would be the Lord, demanding the respect of all around her, but for now she must wait her turn. The lady nodded, as if accepting the apology.
"Good, you are right to address me as Lord, although I prefer the title of Lady, but Gethen will do," the Sith stated. She lifted her hands to her head and lowered the hood, revealing a fair skinned and relatively young face behind. Gethen's eyes were shadowed with purple but her skin lacked the marks or blemishes caused by excessive use of the dark side, allowing her to still possess her pristine youthful beauty. Albeit with the one exception of a scar across the left side of her face which looked like the result of an explosion of some sort, although it did not horribly mar her appearance. "And you are?"
"Zanleya, acolyte to Darth Kharvak," she replied dutifully.
"Ahh Darth Kharvak… one of the purebloods?" Gethen queried, Zanleya nodded in response. "I know of him, Darth Erebus is my master." Zanleya's eyebrows rose, she had in fact heard of Erebus. As with most who made the rank of Darth he was not somebody to be crossed and if he had chosen Gethen to be his apprentice… then she was somebody to be rightfully scared of.
"Good, I sense your fear Zanleya, you are wise to be afraid, but for now I bear you no ill will, ensure that it stays that way," Gethen warned.
"Of course my Lady," Zanleya reassured her, not really knowing what else to say.
"Ahh enough with the introductions and threats… come, let's sit and talk. Now that you've got me out of my room we might as well enjoy the sunset," Gethen said casually, walking to the edge of the Academy's roof and sitting down, her legs dangling over the lip of the building. Zanleya followed her to the edge and sat next to the Lady, she knew it would be foolish to refuse although she was a little bemused by the request and the sudden change in tone. "Erebus has kept me very busy this past week and I've not had a chance for any socialising, not that the majority of my fellow Ladies and Lords are much fun to mix with anyway. I'd rather talk to a sickly bantha than most of them!" Gethen said. "I'm always curious to hear how the next generation of Sith are doing, so tell me a bit about yourself, your trials, your master." She said with an amicable wave, inviting Zanleya to divulge her story.
"Well… I've been here for…. just over two years now," Zanleya said, after performing a quick mental calculation. "Darth Kharvak rescued me from Nar Shaddaa and took me as his apprentice, I've been training here since. He deemed me too young to join the new inductees at first so he educated me himself for most of the first year," Zanleya related, relaxing slightly as she told her story. "I mean, I spent most of that time in the archives or gymnasium under the eye of one of his servants, but he always took time each week to give me lessons on Sith history and philosophy."
"And this last year? I see you're injured," Gethen observed, although not unkindly. Zanleya scowled at this, not appreciating the reminder of her recent defeat.
"I joined a group of acolytes who were starting their training last year. That injury came from being beaten by an obnoxious oaf of a rattataki in the duelling pit," Zanleya replied stiffly.
"Ahh… hence your evening practicing up here, you're planning to take revenge?" Gethen surmised, although it was more a statement than a question.
"Yes, most certainly," Zanleya agreed with vehemence.
"Very good, as it should be. Is Harkun still an overseer, is he teaching you?" Gethen queried.
"He is," Zanleya answered with mixed feelings. She could not truly get a reading on Harkun, he acted as if he hated everything about teaching them, making out that they were all entirely useless… with the exception of the two purebloods of course. Yet, he clearly took some satisfaction from his job because by all accounts he had been an overseer more or less since finishing his own training. Perhaps he was just a masochist she mused.
"Ahh so he's still at it then, he set my trials… gosh it feels like ages ago. Although I think he got a bit scared of me when he learnt that Erebus was my master," Gethen said with a smile that implied there was more to that story than she was letting on.
"I wish Kharvak had that effect on him," Zanleya grumbled. "Harkun doesn't try to kill me I guess but he sure doesn't give me any mercy either." Gethen gave a knowing chuckle. "What about you, how did you get to be here, if you don't mind me asking?" Zanleya inquired, seeing that the young Lady seemed to be in an amicable mood.
"Not at all, it's not often I get these opportunities for a chat. I was born on Balmorra, it's a war torn world in the colonies region, you know that area between the core worlds and the inner rim. Not such a great place to grow up, although I have to admit I don't remember it all that well. I never knew my parents; I was already an orphan by the time the war began. Do you know of the Voidwolf?"
"No," Zanleya replied, shaking her head. "My knowledge of galactic affairs is a little… stunted."
"Harridax Kirill is his real name, although most people call him the Voidwolf. He's the Grand Admiral of the Empire and a notorious slaver, although he might have given that up now but he certainly was when I had the misfortune to encounter him. He attacked Balmorra and I guess I was unlucky enough to be there when he did. My brother and I were taken as slaves, although they quickly realised he was force sensitive so whisked him away to Korriban to train, I haven't seen him since," Gethen explained with a note of melancholy in her voice. Zanleya sensed a lie, but did not say anything. "So I was left completely alone as a slave to the Empire, those were dark years," Gethen continued, her eyes staring into the distance as if looking into the past.
"I was a slave too, although for a Hutt rather than the Empire," Zanleya remarked with distaste.
"Ugh, I'm not sure which of us had it worse! Anyway, fortunately life didn't stay that way, I was force sensitive as well, although my slavers didn't realise it at first. As soon as they did I was sent to Korriban too. I guess I must have done something well because I drew the attention of Darth Erebus almost straight away and he took me on as his apprentice. I finished my basic training and became a Lady of the Sith which more or less brings me up to now. Although Darth Erebus still has more to teach me, much more it seems given how much time off I get!"
"That's quite the tale," Zanleya remarked. "How did you find it having a master whilst you were still training with the other acolytes?"
"A little strange I guess, I always felt that I had simultaneously both more and less to prove than my peers. You know, I imagine it's similar for you, but I always felt that I didn't need to be the best and always take the grandest prize in the trials because I already had a master. Yet at the same time I had to live up to his expectations, to prove to him that he had made the right choice and that I deserved to be his apprentice. That he shouldn't abandon me and take one of the others on instead," Gethen related, Zanleya nodded knowingly. It was a description that she felt defined her experiences rather well too.
"That sounds familiar," she said with a half-smile.
"What about you then? Who were your parents and how did you end up on Nar Shaddaa? Or were you unlucky enough to be born there?" Gethen asked. Zanleya hesitated at first, but when Gethen turned to face her with a raised eyebrow she acquiesced.
"I was born on Nar Shaddaa, an only child, my mother lived there and always had done. My father, Jenran…" she choked up slightly before spitting out her next words, "is a Jedi."
"A Jedi?" Gethen exclaimed in surprise.
"Yes, a filthy hypocrite! One of their 'oh so noble' knights," Zanleya went on, her words dripping with enough venom to kill a fully grown nexu. "He fell in love with my mother when he was stationed on the Smuggler's Moon," she continued. "Then when I was seven the Jedi council demanded his presence elsewhere and… he just cut ties and left. He feared the council would find out he'd broken their stupid code and fallen in love so I guess he didn't want to risk off-world communications. What sort of dumb order is that? That they can't love?" Zanleya ranted. Gethen was quite amused by the acolyte's anger, but did not interrupt. "My mother tried to reach out to him repeatedly, it had broken her heart, but he refused to have anything more to do with her. He said it was too dangerous to come and see her or contact her and that his true duty was to the stinking Jedi order, not her. Then that was it, we never saw or heard from him again. My mother was in debt though and without Jenran's protection a slimy Hutt called Bragga took us into slavery. She died under the Hutt's treatment," a tear nearly fell down Zanleya's face, yet her anger and hate burned away the emotions of loss and sorrow. "I was a serving girl in the palace for most of my childhood. I staged an abortive escape and Bragga's minions came after me, then just as they were about to catch me Darth Kharvak showed up, put them down and brought me here," Zanleya related. It was strange, she thought, quite how differently her life would have turned out if she had managed to slip away from Bragga's palace without being noticed.
"You hate him then, your father?" Gethen asked.
"Yes, and every single member of his wretched and hypocritical Jedi order," Zanleya raged.
"Good, hate will make you strong, as I'm sure you've been told quite a few times by now."
"I'll have my revenge one day, on him, on Bragga, on all of them," Zanleya vowed.
"I don't doubt it," Gethen said with a wicked smile. "So tell me, what do you know of the Empire? My view is somewhat tainted by my childhood experiences."
"The Empire? Well, I can't say I've had a huge amount to do with it, but…" The pair chatted on into the evening as the sun slowly set, staining the sky a beautiful tapestry of red and ochre that slowly transmuted into mauve and cobalt. Sometimes Gethen would ask questions or seek Zanleya's view on a topic, other times she would tell a tale of her own exploits. At length though the night drew in and the temperature began to fall.
"Well this has been most interesting, it was good to meet you Zanleya," Gethen said, rolling her shoulders and stretching. "But I must go and rest, my master still has much work for me to do."
"The pleasure was mine, my Lady," Zanleya replied respectfully.
"Farewell acolyte, I am sure we will meet again." With that Gethen simply slipped off the edge of the roof, dropping into the darkness, before slowing her fall with the force to land upon the shadow wreathed sands below. Zanleya was left, slightly surprised and alone, on top of the building staring after the intriguing young Lady of the Sith.