Trere Edru

So, the big scary Sith Academy on the planet of the murder beasts... was a school. A shock, she knows, but there were actual classes with lectures, homework and tests. There were entirely academic subjects that would hardly be out of place in any other institution of learning. Sure, there were the combat classes, the fact that they were making poisons and explosives in the chemistry practical's and of course the information gathering class had an actual torture and interrogation component to it. To be sure, the number of classes you were required to take? Very small, with almost everything being an elective.

Those unavoidable core classes? Combat, Philosophy and Basic Force Use.

The first because no matter what your eventual specialization was, there was going to be some kind of combat in your future, probably with a lightsaber if you lived long enough to graduate. In any case, a Sith was a military asset for the empire, and so yay. Which ironically is why they were drumming the basics of the force into all our heads. Because it was how a sith used the force that made us who we were. Which ironically, is also why there was philosophy class. Because newsflash, we were an empire, and the force was as much a mental discipline as much a physical or mystical.

Any dark side user could have fancy powers, that did not make them Sith. Which hey, fair enough. Best to leave that to their glorious leader and the self proclaimed witch. She was just looking forward to taking some alchemy classes next semester to see how she can push some of her projects.

Speaking of which, she needed to prod that damned feline for the parts. Matt may have had a good idea with that makeshift howdah, but the boss wants it to be sturdier and fancier. Which meant testing to see what his maximum weight was... and running her hands all over those muscles. Perks of the job.

Lis Orlet

Truth be told, she was terrible liar. It is why she had been caught after all. Then again, she had always been a simple lifter of small things while in search of what pleasure and comfort life has to offer. She was no professional gambler or entertainer, A cat burglar if one would excuse the pun who did some other jobs and generally speaking lived a simple and modest life. And not, as some would speak, in constant search of the next big score. That was generally too stressful and troublesome. But then she was caught and she was sent to probably die.

At least until the spicy one decided that as a good little lady she needed a pet kitty to get those hard to source items she was all too willing to track down. That she could, as she placed the package down, have access to a not so bad gang? It was worth it in some regards, mainly some of the perks. Like the mountain of muscle looming over her shoulder like her own personal rancor. For some reason, these bad boys and girls were less than eager to cheat her or pick a fight after it was proven that her favourite pillow was not only able to tear most threats to bits, but was resistant to blasters and training sabers.

Honestly, as she picked up the new case, she was not sure why... and wished that she had a tail to run under the big boys chin~

Sallel Verdeeral

They were hunting. As it was, Ixodiun wanted some fancy beasts for a little party she was throwing this weekend for some of the other noble types. A sort of half expected thing given how she was apparently one of the new members of a major house at the academy, and while that did not mean as much as it did outside? Well, there were little things that remained the same. Like the fact that she wanted some beasts for the guests to hunt down, because of course Sith wanted their blood and violence to also have fancy crap in the background. Figured really, even if it was not her place to do more than roll her eyes behind her back and do what needed to be done.

Granted, what made the hunt easier is that she had a partner. Sure, his stealth abilities were complete and utter shit, but he was perceptive and was capable of beating the beasts she found into unconsciousness with little apparent issue. Some foaming at the mouth eery now and then, but that was probably just the battle rage. Because as she watched him slam the heads of the hydra together, a smirk curling on her lips, he seemed at home, fighting monsters... and then she frowned.

"No, bad Matt! No eating the bosses party beasts!" Seriously, did he HAVE to try nibbling on each new kind of mutation abomination against nature? She was glad that this world had no rancors, he might try to hunt one down.
As it was... she did not even think some of what they found was native to Korriban, and hoped that the overseers would not be too upset if they accidently interfered with any trials.

Granted, she also wondered what a random encounter table was, and why Matt seemed to be occasionally muttering about it while glaring. Or what an Ewok was and why he was convinced they would be appearing.

Luegu Jatra

It was time, as she sat down, the others smiling, for one of the best parts of this little alliance. Truth be told, given how the male was a good bit smarter than he looked or acted at times (not actually all that difficult given how he at times acted like a rancor with a toothache), to say nothing of the fact that he could likely tear them all apart with his bare hands, she wondered why he put up with some of their demands? Why, she was fairly sure the reason why one of the upper years who took her saying no poorly vanished without a trace was because Matt simply ate him, and so it was not like something as petty as reservations against cannibalism would hold him back, particularly given his appetite.

Still, the lights dimmed and he walked forward, wearing nothing save a loincloth that hid nothing, a light following him, as he took out the jar of oil, pouring it onto those abs... and then? They started to move. They pulsed and drummed, echoing and making a music of sorts. And it was not just his pectorals dancing and making the music. No, almost every one of his muscle groups was moving and dancing independently, flexing with each movement, the oil tracing and moving up and down his body with not a single trace of telekinesis or hydrokenisis. No, as the oil formed separate streams, pictures even... it pounded out an unusual song that he claimed was attributed to a demi-god from his home world.

Sure, none of them recognized the words, but... the muscles alone. Hands were busy, and wet panties were thrown as they whistled as it came to an end.