Love's Curse – 3660.016 BY
Zanleya cast her gaze round the cantina, searching for somewhere to sit where she could be as isolated as possible. Selecting a table in the middle with only a single blue haired occupant, she carried her tray over and plonked herself down. Her class of acolytes had been given a couple of days rest after the trial in the tomb of Tulak Hord and it was the evening of the first day. Kharvak had spoken to her again, teaching her more on the history of the Lord of Hate, but other than that she had not done much. Lessons would resume soon, but for now she was settling down for some food and a relatively quiet evening. As best she could she avoided socialising with other acolytes, not because she hated them, but through force of habit. Her years of slavery had not engendered her with strong social skills or the desire for company. In addition to that, the constant need as a prospective Sith to stand on her own and prove herself had not brought her out of her shell. The only other occupant of the bench she was sat at was a human female and was ignoring her, something that suited Zanleya just fine.
A wide array of exotic smells filled the cantina, the scents of such a diversity of alien food mixed with the aroma of spices and sauces from the length and breadth of the Empire. A great array of dishes had been prepared, as they usually were, to give the varying Sith who ate there something to suit their personal tastes. While the majority of those present, and in the Academy as a whole, were human, there were a not insignificant number of aliens and force sensitives from the slave races. As a result the cantina was set up to cater to the tastes of purebloods, zabraks, twi'leks and a host of other less easily recognisable species in addition to humans. Despite this variety Zanleya had not been terribly adventurous in her choice of meal. She had never eaten well in the past, as she had been born in one of the poorer districts of Nar Shaddaa and then lived as a slave for so many years. So she had settled for simple yet nutritious food, hot gorak wings with flatbread and jikoan sauce. It was technically possible, so she had been told at least, to order whatever one liked and the slaves who worked the kitchens would prepare it. After all, the Academy was a volatile place at the best of times and it was in the interests of those who ran it to keep its attendees as satisfied as possible whilst off duty. That being said, she imagined such a privilege was probably only really applicable in the dining halls of the Darths in the upper levels. She was in one of the lower level cantinas, a designated eating area for acolytes and young apprentices. Nevertheless, such issues of status did not really bother her, food was food and that was all she was concerned with.
Along with the vast range of bizarre smells, the room was filled with an animated buzz of conversation giving it a lively ambiance. The hall was sizeable and could easily seat at least a hundred people and at least half of those seats were taken. Every now and then she caught snatches of conversation, of inductees discussing their trials or relating tales of their misadventures and conquests. Cantinas and bars were the main locations frequented by acolytes in their downtime, if they chose to indulge themselves such. They were one of the few places individuals could go to relax… at least, relax as much as a trainee Sith could. Zanleya however never lingered in either, if she was not training then she would be reading and if she was not reading she would prowl the grounds of the Academy or explore the wilds around it.
She was halfway through her food when her force precognition warned her of imminent and approaching danger. Instinctively she leapt up and turned round, knowing intuitively that the threat would be approaching from behind. She neither questioned nor doubted her senses for a second and was just in time to see a grey clad human acolyte come striding toward her, left hand held out as if it were clasped around somebodies neck, before she felt her throat constrict. The attack took her almost completely by surprise. Zanleya was lifted half a metre into the air, hands scrabbling at her throat as she desperately tried to breathe.
"You'll pay for what you've done!" The acolyte screeched, her voice breaking the otherwise relaxed atmosphere. Her expression was livid, blonde braided hair almost seeming to writhe with the same anger, blue eyes filled with nothing but hate and glaring at Zanleya with burning fury. Zanleya gave a choked cry as she tried to free herself from the force grip, but to no avail.
"This is for him!" The acolyte raged, stopping a couple of metres away from her, hand still held out. Zanleya's vision began to fog over as she was starved of oxygen. Desperately she lashed out with her foot, kicking the stool she had been sitting on toward the girl. It was not exactly the most elegant attack nor the most effective, but the second of distraction it caused her apoplectic opponent allowed her to break free from the force choke. She fell to the polished floor, landing on all fours and gasping for air. She knew she did not have time to recover though and rolled over to face the acolyte ready to use the force to try and push her away.
"I'm going to kill you!" Her aggressor shrieked, taking a step forward, before freezing and finding herself lifted into the air in turn.
"That's enough of that," a commanding female voice spoke from somewhere behind Zanleya. She gulped in another couple of deep breaths and shakily got to her feet blinking rapidly to try and clear her vision. The blue haired Sith who had been sat at her bench was on her feet hand held out. Her attacker was hanging stationary in mid-air, as if held in stasis, although not frozen enough to stop her from snarling in unbridled fury.
Her saviour unclipped one of the lightsabers from her belt, walked round to stand in front of the blonde girl before releasing her from the force grip. The livid acolyte was dropped back to her feet and made to lunge at Zanleya, but on seeing the lightsaber held her ground.
"Give me your name acolyte, then tell me what this is about," the blue haired Sith demanded, pointing her unignited lightsaber at the girl. "Because you realise of course that acolytes are not allowed to attack each other within the Academy." Zanleya had just about got her breath back and was now trying to regain her composure. Her heart was still beating madly, hands shaking from the suddenness of the attack and her body screaming at her for fight or flight, but she did her best to master herself. The room had fallen silent and when Zanleya glanced round she could see that everyone had turned their attention to the trio in the middle of the room. Most of the other acolytes were on their feet, ready for a good fight. She spotted the distinctive white robes of Änastasiä and the hungry expression on her face, eagerly awaiting further violence Zanleya guessed. She also had a creeping suspicion that she knew what this whole encounter was about.
"This filth killed Frendric!" The acolyte retorted, as if that was somehow justification for her actions.
"Your name acolyte," the blue haired Sith repeated coldly.
"Jensine," she answered, her eyes boring into Zanleya with intense loathing. She was clad in simple grey robes, those commonly worn by acolytes and Zanleya guessed her to be either in her late teens or early twenties. She also noticed a green amulet on a chain about her neck, identical to one Frendric always used to wear. She did not recognise her, although guessed that she must be from one of the other groups of acolytes who had begun training around the same time she had.
"Who is, or rather was, Frendric?" The Sith asked.
"My lover!" Jensine retorted. A cruel smile played about Zanleya's lips, she had guessed correctly.
"Is what Jensine said true, did you kill him?" The blue haired Sith asked, turning to Zanleya.
"Yes. He was an acolyte in my group. He attacked me in the tomb of Tulak Hord yesterday during a trial… I cut him down," Zanleya replied, giving Jensine a wicked smile as she replied.
"Aghhh! Murderer!" Jensine screamed, leaping forward. The Sith ignited her lightsaber in a heartbeat and a crackling red blade appeared between the two acolytes causing Jensine to pull up short, lest she bisect herself. The blade flickered in a strange way that Zanleya had not seen before, as if it was somehow unstable, not that the lightsabers composition was her primary concern right now.
"It's not murder if it's beyond the perimeter of the Academy, it's merely survival of the fittest," the Sith stated, albeit without cruelty.
"She has to pay!" Jensine cried out, although her anger was gone, like a storm that had burnt up its energy leaving her spent. She was on the verge of tears it seemed, clearly distraught by Frendric's death.
"For what crime?" The Sith asked, lowering her lightsaber.
"For… for… taking away the man I loved!" Jensine replied, floundering at first and sounding more like a distraught child than a vengeful Sith acolyte.
"He tried to kill me, but he was weak and got what he deserved," Zanleya shot back with malign intent. She was taking a perverse pleasure from witnessing Jensine's anguish.
"Silence acolyte!" The Sith snapped, rounding on Zanleya.
"Use that hate Jensine, let it fuel you, let it make you strong. But know that this is not the place for it; death is the penalty for attacking an acolyte within the Academy… but I will see to it that you are forgiven this once. Save your hatred for the trials and the duelling pits," the Sith said to placate the distressed girl.
"Mark my words Zanleya, I will kill you," Jensine hissed, looking directly at her. Zanleya just scowled back at her.
"You there, acolyte, escort Jensine to Overseer Tremel and explain what has transpired here," the Sith ordered, pointing at a bystander.
"Why should I?" The onlooker shot back, folding his arms defiantly.
"Because, little worm, I am Lady Cåssie, apprentice of Darth Tharmin and I tell you to!" Cåssie snapped with an authoritative tone. The acolyte quailed under her gaze and slunk forward, his ears already burning red with embarrassment. The Sith hierarchy had to be respected and acolytes were bound to follow the orders of their superiors, especially when those superiors had a connection to a Darth. Cåssie turned back to Jensine before continuing. "Whilst I cannot take away your feeling of loss… I can tell you that your lover can do you one last service. Let his memory provide you with the strength you need to go on, do it for him and let your hate make you strong. "Go Jensine; I don't want to hear anything further about you violating our rules, and if I do I will personally carry out your execution." Jensine lowered her gaze and nodded before being escorted from the cantina, although not without throwing a last hateful and tear stained look at Zanleya.
"And you Zanleya, come with me, I wish to talk to you," Lord Cåssie commanded. Obediently Zanleya followed the Lady, leaving her half eaten food behind. Slowly conversation returned to the cantina as everybody else resumed their dinners. Now that she had reason to, Zanleya studied the Sith. Cåssie was a bit taller than herself with deep blue hair that fell past her shoulders in curls, both down her back and over her chest. She was clad in grey undergarments with a black armoured chest piece over the top. Cåssie looked quite young, although older than herself, but as she was only seventeen galactic standard years old that was to be expected.
Cåssie led her out of the cantina via a side door, along a corridor then out onto a balcony, it overlooked one of the training grounds and Zanleya could see a group of new acolytes practicing lightsaber drills with staffs in the sand. Cåssie stopped by the balustrade and turned to face Zanleya now that they had privacy.
"Was anybody else present when you killed Frendric?" Cåssie asked.
"Well, yes my Lady, another acolyte called Änastasiä, we fought together against him and some failed acolytes he had recruited to try and kill us," Zanleya replied, slightly confused as to what her saviour wanted… for there was no doubt in her mind that she owed her a serious debt, if not her life.
"So this Änastasiä saw you kill Frendric?"
"Absolutely."
"When you struck him down, was he defenceless?" Cåssie inquired.
"Yes, I had severed his fingers and cut his weapon from his hand, he was helpless," Zanleya replied, the moment still crystal clear in her mind.
"And would this be common knowledge? Would Änastasiä have told your fellow acolytes how Frendric died?"
"Almost certainly, she has a certain love of fear and violence," Zanleya replied with a wry smile.
"Then Jensine will know how her lover met his end and given what you've said that doesn't bode well for you, particularly as you executed him in cold blood rather than in a duelling pit fight. You've made yourself an enemy," she stated simply.
"I suppose I have. I guess I should thank you for intervening though, my Lady."
"It was my duty to do so," Cåssie said. "Besides we would all have been in trouble had an acolyte murdered another in full view of a busy cantina."
"She was a fool to reveal herself," Zanleya remarked. "If she had waited until I was on my own she might have stood a better chance."
"On balance it's best for her that she did not, otherwise, had she actually killed you, she would simply have been executed in turn," Cåssie said. Zanleya simply shrugged.
"But that's not what happened," she said.
"True. Were you aware of the bond between those two before you killed Frendric?" Cåssie asked.
"No and to tell the truth I was not thinking about Frendric's love life when he tried to murder me," Zanleya remarked sarcastically.
"Love can be a powerful thing," Cåssie quipped philosophically, staring out over the Academy grounds; Zanleya merely snorted.
"I beg to differ, love makes you weak. It certainly made Jensine weak, she's signed her own death warrant now," Zanleya declared. She had no doubt that she was going to have to kill the errant acolyte, sooner rather than later. Zanleya was not sure if Jensine would be so bold as to try and attack her again within the Academy, but she knew that she was going to have to be on her guard. If Jensine did not try that, then for certain the next trial they were sent on or the next time she left the Academy Jensine would be after her. All of that simply meant that she would have to be ready to kill her first.
"Don't be so sure of yourself acolyte, overconfidence is a weakness and one for which there is little tolerance within the ranks of the Sith," Cåssie countered.
"But now I know she wants to kill me, if she had just tried to stab me in the back next time we were in the wilds she would have stood a better chance. Now I know she's after my blood I can prepare for her and kill her first," Zanleya replied. "If she had not been so blinded by anger and loss she would have realised that."
"Then surely what you are saying is that anger makes one weak, not love?" Cåssie argued.
"Well… it was anger because of the loss of a lover, so in my eyes that still counts as love," Zanleya replied. "Why fall in love if it's only going to lead to pain, anger and stupid decisions?"
"Perhaps because it gives you something to fight for?" Cåssie suggested. Zanleya narrowed her eyes at the Lady.
"…did he set you up for this? Did my master Darth Kharvak tell you to give me this lesson? You sound like you're echoing him," Zanleya demanded, suddenly suspicious. Kharvak's lesson from yesterday was still fresh in her mind, when he had introduced her to the idea of a Sith drawing on love as a source of power, a strange notion for certain.
"No, I did not even know you had a master until now," Cåssie replied evenly.
"Hmm… well, forgive my accusation then my Lady," Zanleya said, remembering her manners.
"Perhaps it's more common than you think," Cåssie said, looking back at the new acolytes practicing beneath them.
"It still seems absurd, especially for a weak acolyte. If you don't have the power to defend your lover then that just makes them a liability and you vulnerable… as has just been shown," Zanleya said. Kharvak had told her the percentage of fresh acolytes who made it all the way to becoming Sith… it was small, more than the majority perished during their trials. So the chances of a couple of love struck acolytes both making it through were low indeed.
"I suppose that could be true, but then if your life is to be cut short surely you would want to enjoy it to the full first? We're no Jedi, we're not forbidden to love," Cåssie said.
"I've seen what love can do… I don't want it," Zanleya hissed. Cåssie turned back to her and raised a sharp questioning eyebrow. "I became a slave because a Jedi could not love!" It was a simple fact that she would never forget, one that would haunt her all her days.
"…And that presumably brought you here? I wouldn't curse your past if it resulted in your training to become Sith."
"That's not the point," Zanleya huffed.
"Refusing to know the warmth of love is your loss I suppose," Cåssie said with a shrug. Zanleya frowned at the young Lady.
"You love somebody don't you?" Zanleya said, it was more of a statement than a question. The slight delay in Cåssie's response only confirmed her supposition.
"Perhaps I do."
"Who?" Zanleya queried out of idle curiosity.
"You forget your place acolyte," Cåssie snapped. "And I wouldn't tell you, because you don't need to know."
"It's your master isn't it? Darth Tharmin?" Zanleya said, the words springing to her lips unbidden.
"How did you know?!" Cåssie gasped in surprise, her expression one of bewilderment, her confident aura momentarily shattered. A sly smile slid across Zanleya's face.
"The tone of voice you used when you said his name back in the cantina and the way you spoke just now suggested that defending the one you love isn't a problem," Zanleya replied with a shrug. "You sounded as if you were in awe of him. It was just a guess though."
"You would do well to keep that information to yourself," Cåssie warned menacingly.
"Of course my Lady."
"What we have is special and nobody can take that from us," Cåssie stated with resolve.
"Of course," Zanleya repeated, realising she might have made a mistake and doing her best to backtrack. "Was this what you wanted to talk to me about?"
"I just wanted to know what transpired between you and this Frendric individual so that I could warn you. You may scoff at love because you don't have it, but for those of us who are acquainted with it, it's powerful. Know that there is nothing I wouldn't do to defend Tharmin and should anything ever happen to him, no force in the galaxy would be able to protect those responsible from my wrath. If Jensine felt for Frendric even a fraction of what I do for Tharmin, you better believe me when I tell you that you are in grave danger. What she did today was rash and foolish, but you best watch your back from now on because she will come for you. There will be no reasoning with her, no bargaining and nothing will stop her from hunting you. That's all I have to say to you, be on your guard else you will fall victim to the love you ridicule."