First Blood – 3660.015 BY
An animated buzz filled the air as the acolytes assembled in one of the many vaulted chambers of the Academy, eagerly awaiting Overseer Tremel. Those gathered displayed a range of emotions, from a few nervous faces to worried frowns of trepidation, yet the majority wore expressions of barely supressed excitement. Zanleya herself was smiling in anticipation, for Tremel would shortly set them a major trial. He had told them during their last lesson that he would be sending them into the tomb of one of the ancient Dark Lords of the Sith. He had not specified what the trial was to be, but any expedition into one of the ancient labyrinthine tombs was cause for excitement. To further heighten both the tension and eagerness of those gathered, Lord Claw was present, a dark and brooding human Sith. He had declared that he was looking for a new apprentice and would be watching the trials with interest. Everybody knew what that meant, one of them, likely whoever performed the best, would become the apprentice of Lord Claw. It was a priceless prize and one the acolytes dearly coveted. Whilst Lord Claw's patronage was not something Zanleya herself desired, as she was already committed to Darth Kharvak, it had certainly got the blood of the others up.
Out of the original nineteen acolytes, herself included, fourteen remained. Two had died from injuries sustained during duels in their combat lessons, two others had perished on previous trials set by Tremel. A further couple had met their ends in unfortunate 'accidents', not that anybody believed for a moment that they truly were accidents. A latecomer had also joined their ranks, bringing their number up to fourteen. Discounting herself and Zirik, the two who already had masters, the remaining twelve were all competing for the attention of Lord Claw. They each knew that whilst everybody could pass the trial, there would only truly be one victor this day and each was determined that it would be them.
Just as it looked like the pent up tension would boil over, the door opened with a hiss and Overseer Tremel arrived. He was clad in his usual attire, lightweight armour that was dark in colour with a lightsaber at his hip. An expectant hush fell over the acolytes as they awaited his pronouncement.
"As you already know, today I am setting you a trial. You are going to venture into the tomb of Tulak Hord in the valley of the Dark Lords," Tremel announced, he did not bother mincing his words, getting straight to the point. There were murmurs from those gathered; Zanleya nodded, a sly smile creeping across her face. She had had the foresight to read up about each of the Sith who lay buried in the valley, in preparation for the trial so had a vague idea of what to expect. "There is a particularly voracious breed of tuk'ata that dwells within the tomb. I wish you to each bring me the tusk of one such beast, stained with the lifeblood of the animal it came from. The tusks are precious ingredients for Sith alchemy and thus this is a suitable opportunity for you to perform a service to your superiors. But don't think that you can hunt any old tuk'ata in the wilds; these ones are saturated with the essence of the dark side from living within the tomb, we will know immediately if you try to deceive us," Tremel explained. He did not need to add what the punishment would be for such deception. His gaze swept over the gathered acolytes, as if he was mentally placing bets with himself on who would survive, eyeing up and assessing each of them in turn. "It will not be easy, some of you will not return for tuk'ata are vicious beasts. Further to that outcasts and failed acolytes make their lairs in the tomb as do many other dangerous creatures. Do you all understand?" There were nods of affirmation and replies of conformation. Zanleya licked her lips, she had not fought a tuk'ata before nor had she been into Tulak Hord's tomb. The task before them was certainly not a simple one, but she had not been expecting an easy ride and, whilst she would not have said she was confident, she did feel the last year and a bit had prepared her suitably for it.
"Lord Claw, do you have anything you wish to add?" Tremel asked, turning to the black robed Sith.
"I will be watching this trial closely as I seek a new apprentice, one worthy enough to be taught the true ways of the dark side. If however, you believe you truly have the strength that it takes to become Sith, then you will bring me the tusks of the pack alpha," Lord Claw said, his voice whispery thin like the rustle of ancient paper.
"There is one more thing that I should inform you of, the tomb lies beyond the boundaries of the Academy and our rules do not hold there. While I do not openly encourage murder, it will not invoke the customary retribution… only the strong will survive," Tremel added. Within the sacred grounds of the Academy acolytes were forbidden from attacking each other. This was not to say that fatal 'accidents' did not occur, but it was a brazen fool indeed who defied one of the few rules the Sith upheld. Zanleya felt a slight tingle of apprehension run down her spine, she had suspected that that would be the case, but had not been sure if Tremel would outright forbid them from attacking their peers. She saw both Änastasiä and Traz grin wickedly, no doubt planning to take advantage of the absence of rules. "That is all, if you have not returned by this time tomorrow, don't bother returning," Tremel stated. "Go, and remember, peace is a lie."
Zanleya retrieved her vibroblade from the armoury and was soon making her way toward the entrance of the tomb. Ever since her duel with Darth Kharvak she had been practicing with a double bladed weapon and, true to his word, her master had instructed the weapon smiths to forge her a double bladed vibrosword. Unlike the traditional design that roughly resembled a lightsaber, hers was slightly shorter and akin to a double bladed lightsaber with a longer grip in the centre. Her weapon lacked the traditional hand guards and accessories to compensate for the added mass, as a standard vibroblade was heavy enough already and turning it into a double bladed weapon only increased its weight. The result was that she lacked the reach of somebody armed with a normal vibroblade and her own weapon was heavier, but it allowed her to fight with it like a double bladed sabre, a weapon she was far more proficient with.
Several of the acolytes had raced off as soon as Tremel had finished speaking, eager to beat the rest of their cohort to the starting line. Zanleya had taken a slightly more leisurely pace; relative to the others the trial held less meaning for her and she was quite content to slip in once the chaos was already underway and claim a tusk. While she had no intention of failing the trial, she was not planning to try and claim Lord Claw's prize. She expected that at the very least Änastasiä, Traz, Anral and Jandra would be gunning for the alpha beast and probably some of the others too. She did not intend on getting mixed up in the inevitable skirmish that was bound to break out between her fellow acolytes and thus planned on bringing down a regular tuk'ata somewhere quiet.
So it was that with a couple of flare sticks in a pocket and another in her hand Zanleya approached the entrance to the tomb. A pair of soldiers clad in red armour stood guard, both of whom came to attention as she approached. Bandits had attempted to plunder a number of the tombs and as a counter measure the Sith had started posting guards around the entrances.
"How many have already entered?" Zanleya asked curtly. One of the soldiers frowned, counting off on his fingers.
"Eight my Lord," he replied a moment later, using the honorific title just to be on the safe side, it paid to be over polite when Sith and their acolytes were concerned. Zanleya nodded, there were five others yet to come, she would have to watch her back as well as keep an eye out for trouble ahead. That was all she needed to know; she unscrewed the flare stick, allowing the chemicals within to react and it lit up with a bright yellow glow. Taking a deep breath she plunged through the ancient stone archway and into the tomb itself.
This was the first time she had set foot in a tomb of one of the ancient Sith Lords; she had read plenty about each of them, but up until now had not dared venture inside any. She was still practicing her force awareness but even with the skill in its nascent stage she could feel the raw power of the dark side surrounding her, it soaked everything, the very air was thick with it. Tulak Hord, also known as the Lord of Hate, was the one who had conquered Dromund Kaas, the world that was now the capital of the Empire. He had eventually been killed by his apprentice Ortan Cela, although that had been over two millennia ago. Even now, so many years on, the tomb still resonated with the power that Tulak Hord had wielded in life. The air, whilst it smelt musty and felt dry, was almost static with pent up power. As Zanleya crossed the threshold and into the final resting place of the Lord of Hate she felt tiny, like a mere bottle bug crawling upon a monument to one so powerful that hundreds of years later his name was still feared and revered. He was dead though and she was alive she told herself, his days had come and gone and now it was her turn to make a name for herself.
"Peace is a lie, there is only passion," Zanleya uttered, reciting the first line of the Sith code. She descended the steps into the tomb, turned the corner and made her way down the entrance tunnel, the natural light of day fading behind her as she ventured forth. The walls were covered with ancient carvings, depicting the many great and terrible deeds of Tulak Hord and she would have loved to study them, but now most certainly was not the time.
"Through passion I gain strength," she continued, her fingers resting on the trigger of the vibroblade, ready to fire it up at a moment's notice. The passage branched, tunnels going off to the left and right but she held her course, heading deeper into the tomb.
"Through strength I gain power." The words reassured her, gave her the confidence she needed, although it did not stop her from casting glances backwards lest somebody was following her. The ground under her feet was uneven, the old flagstones cracked and skewed. So far though, she had not heard anything, no crashes of weapons, howls of tuk'atas or screams of pain.
"Through power I gain victory," she intoned, pausing at a junction. From her readings she knew that there was a central atrium in the tomb, open to the air and with other chambers leading off from it and it was around there that the tuk'ata she sought made their lairs. She suspected the beasts would be near to the surface rather than deep within the tomb. Turning right Zanleya allowed herself a slight smile of gratification, her preparations had paid off already.
"Through victory my chains are broken." She felt the sneaking suspicion that somebody or something was watching her, the hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end and her force awareness warned her that she was not alone. She spun round, expecting to see an acolyte charging at her, but there was nobody.
"The force shall free me!" Zanleya declared, reciting the last line of the code. Her fingers sparked with power, she was yet to master force lightning, but it was coming. She turned back round, the flare stick held high in her left hand, illuminating the gloomy interior of the tomb. Her eyes fell on a collection of bleached bones to the side of the passage and a satisfied smile took shape, she was going the right way.
Just then a shrill and piercing cry sounded from around the corner ahead of her and she instinctively triggered her weapon. The ultrasonic generator within the hilt fired up causing the edges of the blades to vibrate at an incredible speed. A single strike from it could tear open a gaping wound, not that she had actually struck a sentient being with it yet, excluding the odd k'lor'slug and those hardly counted as sentient beings. She ducked to the side of the passageway, her arm brushing the carved side of a primeval statue. Checking both ways she could see nobody else, there was no glow of light either, so if somebody was following her then they were creeping about in the dark. The hint of daylight filtered in from the tunnel ahead of her, so she knew she must be nearing the atrium but she hesitated, knowing that whatever had caused the cry would still be there. Gripping her weapon tightly she crept forward and rounded the corner.
Before her lay an open chamber, the roof supported by four giant statues, each with their heads bowed and hands raised to the ceiling. The chamber was circular in shape with a giant block of stone on the opposite wall, upon which a great plethora of ancient runes had been carved. The ceiling had crumbled in a few places, littering the ground with rubble but the room was otherwise in quite good condition. A passage branched off to the right and from there the meagre rays of light breached the darkness whilst a dropped flare stick cast sharp shadows across the walls. However, it was not the architecture that held Zanleya's attention, it was the chambers occupants.
Änastasiä was there clad, as she often was, in her white robes. Her red hair was held up with a trio of pins and her arms were wrapped in what looked like white bandages. Her robes were slim fitting and her shoulders bare, she would not have looked out of place at the side of a Moff at a formal event in Kaas City. At least, she would not have looked out of place had it not been for the wild and savage look in her eyes and the vicious grin that split her face. She was advancing menacingly upon a fallen acolyte, Zanleya recognised the victim as the yellow skinned twi'lek Yena. Yena had her hands feebly raised in front of her, as if they could somehow stop Änastasiä. Over the course of the past year and a half, since she had joined the acolytes in proper training, Zanleya had learnt a fair deal about her peers. Änastasiä had proven to be the least predictable of all of them, with provocation she was liable to fly into a rage and crush anything around her with the devastating force blasts that seemed to be her signature. So she had heard, one unlucky overseer by the name of Nagal had discovered this to his misfortune on the day Änastasiä had arrived at the Academy. All in all, Änastasiä was not somebody that she wished to tangle with.
The volatile and white clad acolyte turned to the entrance as Zanleya rounded the corner, the light of the flare stick attracting her attention.
"Zanleya! Help me!" Yena cried out in terror and desperation. Zanleya noticed a fallen tuk'ata against one wall, a steadily spreading pool of blood around it; clearly one of the two had felled the beast and claimed the prize. Although by the looks of things it would be Änastasiä who was walking away with the tusks. Zanleya dropped her flare stick and readjusted the grip on her weapon, but made no move forward.
"I see no reason to," she stated simply, truthfully she did not want to get involved with Änastasiä if she could help it.
"Please! I'll pay you back! I'll do anything for you!" The twi'lek begged, her fear palpable. Änastasiä had paused, still with her weapon at the ready but with a delighted and gleeful expression upon her face as if she was enjoying Yena's forlorn pleas.
"Why would I want the help of one who can't even defend herself?" Zanleya retorted, knowing that she was condemning Yena to death. Zanleya had no love for Yena, her and the other surviving twi'lek, Senli, had made no secret of the fact that they only supported each other and had naught but disdain for their human peers. "I have no quarrel with Änastasiä."
"But that doesn't mean I'm not going to kill you too," Änastasiä said, her voice sounding far too sweet to be delivering such a threat.
"Why would you try to do that? I haven't got a tusk and I don't plan on taking yours," Zanleya asked warily, the knot of concern in her stomach tightened.
"Because it will be fun!" Änastasiä responded, lashing out with an outstretched hand. Zanleya had been ready for the attack and held her left hand out, forming a force barrier to deflect the blast. She succeeded in preventing herself from being crushed like an insect, but the sheer force of the blow overwhelmed her defence and shoved her backward. She stumbled and fell, although managed to flick her vibroblade off as she tumbled so as not to slice herself apart on her own weapon. Änastasiä cackled with wicked glee as Zanleya fell to the dusty ground. With cold certainty Zanleya realised that this was now life or death, this was no longer about finding a tusk and proving herself to Darth Kharvak, this was about survival. She leapt to her feet, firing her blade up once more and sprinted across the chamber, aiming to close the distance between herself and the insane acolyte. She knew from the past year and a bit that Änastasiä, whilst unnaturally strong with the force, was not such a proficient duellist. If she could get into melee combat then she was reasonably confident she could take her down. Änastasiä clearly knew this as well and was determined to prevent that scenario from occurring.
The white clad Sith unleashed another devastating force blast. Zanleya had no opportunity to block it this time, instead throwing herself to the ground and attempting to roll so as not to be thrown across the room. Had she been a fraction of a second late she would likely have been pulped, as it was though she dodged the majority of the blast. She landed heavily, winding herself in the process as she once more struck the flagstones of the chamber floor. She rolled with the impact and hastily pulled herself up onto all fours, her back now to the other exit to the chamber. Änastasiä had both hands raised and was lifting a segment of fallen masonry into the air. Zanleya struck out with the force, shoving the chunk of rock back toward Änastasiä, who waved a hand in response and sent it hurtling against the chamber wall, where it exploded into a thousand fragments.
Zanleya leapt to her feet again, blade once more humming. There was a shout of anger and with a battle cry Yena, forgotten in the brief skirmish, leapt at Änastasiä. The white clad acolyte reacted with phenomenal speed, whipping round she flung both hands up. The yellow twi'lek, who was mid-air, was hurled upward by the force. She smashed against the ceiling in a brutal impact and Zanleya could quite distinctively hear several bones break. The unfortunate acolyte fell back to the floor with another crash and a howl of pain, the vibrosword falling from her broken hand. Änastasiä used the force to sweep the weapon up and with a savage cry of joy plunged it into Yena's back. The doomed acolyte shrieked, the sound quickly turning into a final gasping choking cry of pain.
"Is it not the most perfect experience?" Änastasiä asked, as if it were a rhetorical question, pulling the now blood covered blade free. Zanleya, shocked by the suddenness and ruthlessness of the whole episode, was speechless.
"Taking the life of one weaker than you, it's sublime," Änastasiä said with obvious delight, a euphoric smile upon her face as if she had just eaten the most delectable treat. "Your turn!" She cooed readying another force blast. Zanleya cursed and threw up a force barrier once more, hastily backpedalling. Like before the blast sent her reeling, but evidently Änastasiä's stamina was not limitless and this time her defences managed to take most of the blow. The attack still caused her to stagger back and she quickly turned the stagger into a hasty retreat, withdrawing into the short corridor that led out of the chamber toward the central atrium.
"No no no! Don't run away I'm not done!" Änastasiä admonished; Zanleya darted back the last few steps and rounded the corner. Daylight streamed in through an archway ten metres away, the open sands of Korriban beyond. She considered her options, she could try to ambush Änastasiä as she came round the corner and get into hand to hand combat or she could run, the latter thought filled her with disgust. No, she told herself, she was going to be Sith, she would not flee. She backed up a few steps and took up a ready stance, prepared for Änastasiä to come out of the chamber after her.
The only warning she got was a rush of air before a chunk of rock smashed into the corridor wall and exploded like a hand grenade, flinging stony shrapnel out. Zanleya flung her arm up to cover her face and cried out as the scything bits of rock lacerated her left forearm and legs, bringing sharp stinging pain. She once more backpedalled, Änastasiä clearly having realised that she would be waiting for her round the corner and thus intended to force her out. Zanleya cursed as she heard demented laughter from inside the chamber and the whistle of Änastasiä flinging another rock into the exit corridor. This time her force barrier deflected the shrapnel but she still took a couple more steps back in response before darting the last few metres out of Tulak Hord's tomb and into the daylight. Blinking from the sudden change she quickly checked herself over, the cuts from Änastasiä's rock bombardment were painful but mostly superficial. She spared her environs a quick look, the orange sands of Korriban surrounded her, whilst the carved cliff face of the tomb rose before her, crumbling entranceways and pillars adorning it.
Her force premonition told her to move and she darted sideways before another of Änastasiä's infamous force blasts came bursting out of the tomb like a howling banshee. Then, before she could get into ambush position to the side of the tombs exit, Änastasiä appeared, the white of her robes a stark contrast to the dark of the entranceway.
"We don't have to fight!" Zanleya cried out, desperately hoping that she could make the maniac see sense. They were only five or so metres apart now, Änastasiä with her newly acquired vibrosword in her left hand, her right poised and ready, the midday sun beating down upon them, a stark contrast to the cold of the tomb. "I don't want to kill you!" In truth she was even more concerned about her own chances of survival.
"Kill me? You can't do that… you've… you've not even taken somebodies life yet have you?" Änastasiä queried, the realisation dawning upon her with the shock you would expect if somebody had just said that a beloved relative had died.
"Not yet," Zanleya retorted menacingly, readying herself to either charge Änastasiä or deflect another force blast.
"Oh you poor girl, how can you be Sith if you haven't killed?" Änastasiä asked with what was almost pity. Zanleya had known all along that becoming Sith would lead her down the path of the dark side and that along the way she would have to slay those who opposed her. Nonetheless, whenever the thought of having to kill had crossed her mind she had pushed it aside, not wanting to contemplate it yet. She knew it was inevitable, but it was something she had been avoiding. Unlike some of the other acolytes, those who occasionally struck down slaves for amusement, or those who had slain fellow acolytes, she was yet to take a life. It would be the final act, the point of no return, the moment at which she finally abandoned her innocence and completely committed herself to becoming Sith. Ever since Darth Kharvak had rescued her she had never questioned the journey she had begun, from that moment forth knowing that her destiny was to become Sith or die trying, yet this was a morbid milestone she was yet to pass. It seemed though that the moment of truth was fast approaching.
"I will kill, and the first blood I spill will be yours if I ha…" Zanleya's threat was cut short.
"There they are! Help me bring these two down and I swear I will see you redeemed!" A voice shouted. Änastasiä and Zanleya both turned to another of the archways in the cliff, one of the other acolytes, Frendric, was there with a trio of individuals who were obviously outcasts, their robes tattered and torn. Without hesitation the four newcomers fired up their vibroblades and ran across the sand toward the two girls. Änastasiä and Zanleya paused, then looked at each other with a moment of understanding and both nodded, firing up their own weapons, the time had come. Frendric and one of the outcasts ran at her, the other two charged Änastasiä. Zanleya adopted a fighting stance and held her vibrosword at the ready, preparing to meet the assault. There was a cry and out of the corner of her eye she saw something fly into the cliff wall, but had no time to ascertain what had happened.
Frendric slowed slightly, letting the outcast reach her first. In the split second before the exile got in range Zanleya analysed him, looking at how he held his weapon. She swung one end of her vibrosword up, correctly predicting that her assailant would aim for the chest. There was a clash of metal on metal and a whine that set teeth on edge as the ultrasonic weapons struck. With a rapid sweep she brought the other end of her blade round, aiming to cut the failed acolyte in two. He parried the strike and took a step back. Frendric joined the fight, attacking from the other side with a reasonably crude overhead blow.
Within moments the three combatants were lost in a swirling melee, blades flicking and flashing, whining with each crash. Zanleya was angry that she had allowed herself to be ambushed, but equally angry with Frendric for using such cowardly tactics as recruiting the Academies offcuts, implying he could not fight alone. She focused on her anger, letting it give her strength. Zanleya danced round, parrying strikes from both of them, the dual attack demanding every bit of her concentration. She did not have time to check on Änastasiä, but guessed that she was occupied with the other outcasts.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl where she existed in a world purely of clashing blades and rapid parrying. Then Frendric stepped back and jabbed his hand toward her. She was far too focused on the outcast to be able to deflect the force attack. However, Frendric's force prowess was not terribly impressive and the blast only staggered her, it did however get him out of the fight.
Zanleya spun her vibrosword in front of herself, deflecting a flurry of strikes from the outcast. He was not a proficient duellist, or if he had been then his exile in the tomb had dulled his skills. She did not struggle to block his clumsy attacks, even after being staggered by Frendric. In retaliation she swiped left then right in rapid succession, forcing the exile back.
With the moment of breathing space she had created she glanced round. Frendric was gone, instead of charging back at her he had withdrawn from the fight and was aiming for Änastasiä's back. Zanleya's white clad ally of convenience was struggling to keep her own adversary at bay, the red zabrak giving her a hard time. Frendric was creeping up on Änastasiä, clearly planning to cut her down whilst she was busy with her opponent. The third outcast was crumpled by the cliff, presumably a victim of one of Änastasiä's notorious force blasts.
"Änastasiä, look out!" Zanleya shouted in warning. She reached out with the force, picking up desert sand and flinging it toward her foe. The outcast cried out, raising a hand to shield his face. Whilst he was distracted Zanleya ran to intercept Frendric. There could be no hesitation, she knew she had to fight without mercy. Given a chance Frendric would kill Änastasiä and she was only too well aware that she could not take on three opponents at once, protecting Änastasiä was critical.
She leapt for Frendric, at the last moment he spotted her and ducked, then hastily parried her back strike. Frendric stumbled, desperately trying to regain his balance. Zanleya did not let up, pressing the attack. She sliced at him with one end of her weapon, knocking his vibroblade aside, then slashed down with the other end. He was not prepared for the second attack and the blow struck his hand. Frendric screamed as the blade bit through flesh, severing the fingers on his right hand in a spurt of crimson blood. The vibroblade fell from his mutilated hand and he dropped to his knees in pain, his left hand clasped over the ruined stumps of his fingers. Simultaneous exhilaration and horror washed over Zanleya, the thrill of victory and the visceral act of maiming him both filling her mind. The sound of running feet made her spin round, the other outcast she had been duelling was sprinting at her but as she turned he faltered, the sight of her now blood covered robes and her blazing eyes giving him pause.
There was another cry and the zabrak who had been duelling Änastasiä went down. Frendric's scream had distracted him and the moment of lost concentration cost him his life. Zanleya glanced over to see that Änastasiä had run him through, she wrenched her blade free with a joyous cry and a shower of blood.
The acolyte who had been about to attack Zanleya wavered, seeing that all three of his companions had fallen his morale broke, he turned and ran. Änastasiä did not give him the chance; she used the force to lift a loose rock into the air then sent it hurtling at the fleeing outcast. The failed acolyte gave a panicked look back and was just in time to take the projectile to the face. The result was both messy and fatal.
"Beautiful! Such sweet victory!" Änastasiä cried in triumph. Like Zanleya her white robes were stained with blood and her eyes ablaze with manic light. Zanleya was breathing hard, the exertion of the last few minutes catching up on her. She felt incredible though, elated by their victory, adrenaline still rushing through her blood and her heart pounding. Änastasiä's predatory gaze fell on Frendric, who was mewling on the floor, clutching his ruined hand.
"Ohh Zan, how good of you! You left us one to play with!" She crooned with glee.
"Not intentionally," Zanleya remarked, turning her attention back to Frendric now that the other threats had been dealt with.
"It's so much more fun when they're helpless!" Änastasiä said with sadistic delight. Zanleya noticed that the psychotic acolyte had a reasonably deep cut on her upper arm and another on her thigh. If she was in pain though she was hiding it well, Zanleya mused. She kept her blade humming, ready to attack Änastasiä should she try to kill her again now that the immediate danger was gone.
"Don't worry, I don't want to kill you, you're more fun alive now!" Änastasiä said, sensing Zanleya's caution. "Come on, there's better entertainment to be had!"
"I… let me… live… please!" Frendric pleaded, looking up imploringly at the two blood stained acolytes.
"Don't be silly, you're going to die! Kill him Zanleya!" Änastasiä instructed with wicked glee. Frendric thrust his uninjured hand out, but he could not focus and nothing happened, Änastasiä laughed mockingly at the feeble attempt. Zanleya took a step forward, eyeing the injured acolyte with contempt. He had tried to kill her, this was what he deserved. Still she hesitated.
"Ohh come on, it's time you accepted your destiny!" Änastasiä coaxed, although she did not sound impatient. She was enjoying it, Zanleya realised, Änastasiä was relishing her internal conflict and Frendric's terror as she deliberated over ending his life. Nevertheless, Zanleya knew that the insane acolyte spoke the truth, there was no way she could walk away and leave him alive, to do so would make her appear weak in the eyes of all those at the Academy... if of course Änastasiä even let her walk away. She did have people she wanted to kill, she wanted to kill Jedi, she wanted to kill Bragga the Hutt and his minions. She wanted revenge and she wanted to be Sith, this was what she had to do. But she knew that to end Frendric's existence would be to irrevocably turn her back on her old life. Then again, what had her old life really been? She had slaved away for Bragga for years, she had been cast aside by a cruel galaxy. She was not finished though, she had survived, she had escaped and now she would be the one who directed her fate. She would shape her future and anybody who tried to stop her would perish. A slow smile spread across her face as her internal dialogue came to an end.
"You tried to kill me," she pronounced vindictively. Frendric knew this was the end and scrabbled away, trying to get to his feet to run, Änastasiä stopped him, crushing him down with the force. "I am going to be Sith and nobody is going to stop me," Zanleya stated with determination.
She advanced on Frendric, vibrosword humming, whining as if it were eager for blood.
"Yes, do it!" Änastasiä encouraged gleefully. Zanleya licked her lips and narrowed her eyes. He feebly raised his left arm, a futile gesture. Zanleya slashed down, her vibrosword slicing through his raised hand and into his throat in a spray of arterial blood. Frendric fell forward making a sickening gurgling noise as the life flowed from his body. He crumpled into the quickly reddening sand his limbs twitched for a few brief moments, then he lay still.
"Ohh magnificent! How does it feel?" Änastasiä asked eagerly.
"I feel… alive, like… I can feel the force… the strength of the dark side," Zanleya replied. Every sense tingled, a flood of sensations overwhelming her, all melded together, feelings of power, domination, hope, excitement. The strength of her emotions was almost tangible, as if all she needed to do was reach out and tap into them and a whole new world of power would be hers. She felt as if she could wave her hand and tear the whole cliff side down with the force or raise her arms and float aloft on a column of energy.
"It's incredible isn't it?" Änastasiä said with a wicked smile. "Now at last you're one step closer to becoming Sith."
"Yes," Zanleya agreed, she could not argue with that, she was committed now. She cast her gaze across the battlefield, now silent but for the faint whistling of wind, the bodies of the three fallen acolytes littering the sand and Frendric at her feet.
"Huh, I guess I better get a tusk," she stated, breathing out heavily and letting her shoulders drop. After all that had happened she doubted hunting a tuk'ata would be much of an issue now.
"No need," Änastasiä said, she pulled a blood-stained tusk from her pocket. "Take this, tuk'ata have two tusks, Tremel only asked for one. You've given me a lot of amusement, so you've earned it," Änastasiä offered, holding it out. Zanleya hesitated, wondering if it was a trap, but saw that the murderous acolyte was being genuine.
"Thank you," Zanleya said unsteadily, taking the proffered item, her emotions still running wild after the last few intense minutes.
"I might have struggled to kill them all without you," Änastasiä admitted.
"Likewise," Zanleya confessed. In truth both of them knew that without the other they would be dead, but neither was willing to honestly admit their vulnerability. It was not a bond of friendship, but the mutual acceptance that they were temporarily allies.
"Let's just call earlier a little misunderstanding?" Änastasiä said with a glint in her eyes.
"Something like that," Zanleya replied grudgingly, equally aware that if she had not been properly prepared Änastasiä could have killed her before Frendric turned up.
"Remember this day, they won't all be this good," Änastasiä said, waving a hand to Frendric's corpse. Zanleya nodded and took a last look around before heading back toward the cliff and the entrance to the first part of Tulak Hord's tomb. Halfway there she turned to look over her shoulder and was slightly relieved to see that Änastasiä was not following her.
"Are you staying to find the alpha beast?" Zanleya asked.
"Yes, there's more fun to be had yet! Although I doubt it'll be as good as that which we've already had."
Zanleya simply nodded, whilst she was glad Änastasiä had been there to help her, she was equally glad to be out of her presence. Slowly she retraced her steps, heading back toward the Academy. She knew that she was not going to be leaving the tomb as the same girl who had entered. Nevertheless, she had been successful and she was now closer to fulfilling her destiny and finally becoming Sith.