Master and Apprentice
Hermione Granger kept her gaze on the data pad in her hands, despite the spider-crawling feeling she got from Darth Gladiolus's putrid gaze glossing over her. She had digested enough philosophy, history, and lore from the galaxy beyond to understand that her friend, Edelweiss Potter, was dead. Her body walked and talked, retaining years of memories. But they were poisoned by the influence of the dark side of the Force. She did not know if Zeta-Aleph had missed the obvious evidence of the dark side's evil in the documentation it provided her, or if the droid mind failed to realize what was and was not aberrant.
But she understood. The Sith were evil. Their ideology, as revealed in their Code, led many to embrace selfishness and self-destruction. Galactic peace in all eras had been defined by the domination of the Jedi and their Republic over their rivals, for strife always emerged hand-in-hand with the Sith and their ruinous empires. Hermione realized she had not been mistaken to take up arms against Gladiolus. The mistake she and her comrades made had been to underestimate the foul woman, failing to foresee why they had been incapable of acquiring aid from the auror corps—men and women who in any other circumstance should have been natural allies.
They're her tools. She has control over the aurors, ensuring they will never take up arms against her. Her will is absolute for them, and so the nation will remain in her grasp. Only a schism among the Sith could free them.
"You've been away for a while," Hermione said once she finally looked up. "I thought you had forgotten about me."
Gladiolus giggled. "I could never forget about you, Hermione. You have taught me many lessons. Why, I fear I might have never learned them without you. Why would I ever forget about Hermione Granger?" Her head tilted slightly, her sulfuric eyes seeking Hermione's brandy brown gaze. "You're avoiding my gaze. How quaint that you can believe by avoiding my gaze you can protect your mind from my powers to perceive everything within you; your emotions, your thoughts, your very being.
"But you are wrong."
"I am not powerless before you, no matter what lies you have told yourself, Gladiolus."
The Sith Lord blinked. A light smirk graced her lips. "I would not call you 'powerless', Hermione. However, you cannot keep me out forever. Your strength has limitations. Limits that you will reach long before I tire in my effort to peel apart and discover every little secret you hold dear."
"Well, then fortunate for me that you've had me so long I no longer keep secrets from you."
The Sith Lord glowered. "You've grown brazen in your time locked away here."
"What do I have to lose? You will never release me. As long as I provide utility to you, my life persists." Hermione paused. Seconds passed before she uttered, "I know what breed of monster you are, Darth Gladiolus. The history of the galaxy is clear: the rule of the Sith is the rule of death and destruction. The rule of the Jedi is that of peace and prosperity. There is always a chance—"
Gladiolus's hand rose and clenched, strangling Hermione. "I will never allow myself to fall for that weakness of the Jedi," the Sith Lord snarled, her yellow eyes burning with her wrath. Hermione stiffened, recognizing the mystical grasp from the Janus Rebellion. It had been used on both her and Draco Malfoy. So this is the dark side's power. "You are a fool to suggest I could follow that fate, Hermione. If I must choose between my goals and myself, I will choose my goals."
"And… not your…self?" Hermione rasped out. She coughed as the choke was released. "You cannot… be serious. You've revealed enough that—"
"This conversation is over," Darth Gladiolus said, flat and final. She turned away from Hermione. "Zeta-Aleph. Synthesize all research and data Hermione Granger produces and have it sent to my personal data pad for my perusal. Understood?"
[YES, LORD GLADIOLUS,] replied Zeta-Aleph.
Darth Gladiolus glanced at Hermione, all familiarity finally gone. She wondered if the Sith Lord would speak one final time before departing. But instead, the Sith Lord shook her head and strode off, content to leave Hermione behind in her cell.
Hermione sighed and leaned back. Her head rested against the cold durasteel that lined the walls of her cell. She closed her eyes. What a waste this has all been, she thought bitterly.
What a waste.
What a waste! Darth Gladiolus thought, wrath and malice ablaze in her veins. She had gone to inspect Hermione Granger, curious what the girl had been up to in her solitude. Instead of discovering one awestruck by the majesty and power available in the cosmos, she discovered one willing to argue about the morality of the Sith and the Jedi. And worse than merely arguing over the matter—Gladiolus could entertain discussions about the merits of both orders as long as the argument came around to the proper answer—Hermione had decided to state that Jedi rule was preferable to that of the Sith.
Foolishness, choosing their ways over the Sith. The Jedi have always been weak. Too weak to enforce their rule over the whole of the galaxy, for they have always fallen under the sway of another body that enacts the will of various worlds instead of their own. If they had true will, they would yoke the Hutts and end the foul practices that occur in Hutt Space, far away from the "light of civilization" within the Republic.
She wandered the durasteel halls of Ziost Hangar, fury pumping through her veins faster than blood. Gladiolus knew she should attend to her duties at the Ministry or check on her apprentices or even the acolytes being trained elsewhere. Her anger was too great to handle those fools and idiots she kept around for their utility. Even her apprentices felt like fools some days! Tracey was foolishly loyal. Neville remained uncertain about the Sith. And Luna Lovegood's peculiarity suggested, day after day, that the girl would never succumb to the influence of the dark side of the Force.
More and more, Gladiolus felt justified in her decision to test them. Each had revealed softness and weakness inappropriate for a Sith. If Tracey was less loyal or Neville more believing or if Luna could shed her tendency toward the ways of the Jedi, then they could prove themselves as Sith apprentices.
This is my punishment for not taking greater care with their training. I have permitted them—Lovegood and Longbottom in particular—to stew in their personal failings, all the while not taking a close hand in their training. I thought them akin enough to myself that they could be driven, with the aid of holocrons and the need to prove themselves, to rise to the occasion and prove themselves without being managed like children.
Any who survive and prove themselves… adequate of my expectations shall be shaped into the Sith apprentices I expected when I first sought them out.
Darth Gladiolus continued her wandering. She would test their skills and nature. Would they prove to be Sith in truth? Or would she need to restart her search for an apprentice?
She hoped not. Almost a year had been given to these three; one had to be viable.
Tracey Davis drew in a slight breath as the portkey her master provided deposited her upside down and several feet above the durasteel floor. She adjusted quickly and landed like a cat: on her feet. She wore her black apprentice robes and clenched her double-bladed lightsaber in her right hand. It had been adjusted two days ago so she might use it properly—and she had known immediately that properly meant her weapon was now truly lethal. She could sever a head from its neck if she wished. She remembered how her master had sliced open through those she executed.
A shiver ran up Tracey's spine. She now held in her grasp the same weapon her master wielded. From the reports she read, the lightsaber had been used to finish off Dumbledore and Voldemort. Her gaze fell to the double-bladed weapon in her grasp. Was it truly as powerful as she believed? Or was it her master's power that made the weapon so threatening?
She put that thought out of mind. Her master had summoned her, yet said nothing. She needed to make herself known.
"Master? I have arrived," she called out. Tracey waited several seconds. "Master? I have—"
She sensed a flickering presence behind her. Something raged at her instincts, screaming threat. It would be like her master to spring a trap on her unexpecting apprentice. Tracey dove forward, rolled toward the nearest durasteel wall, and popped up in a defensive position, her lightsaber held between her and the threat she sensed. Crimson blades activated with that familiar snap-hiss.
She frowned as Neville Longbottom appeared and dropped a foot to the ground. He too wore his apprentice robes, though his were lined with crimson and gold.
Ever the Gryffindor, Tracey thought mockingly. She rose from her defensive pose and deactivated her weapon. Neville flinched as he turned her way.
"So you're here as well," he said. "Has Luna arrived yet?"
"I've seen nothing of Lovegood. Knowing our master, she will arrive last."
Neville frowned. She sensed his skepticism, but he did not challenge her claim.
Tracey was proven right a minute later. The strange blonde arrived, her feet a hair above the floor. She wore a robe in the cut and style of their apprentice robes. Instead of being purely black, however, she wore mostly shades of tan and brown with a golden crescent pendant around her neck. Tracey stiffened. She recognized the color scheme from her studies. With a mixed pair of snap-hisses, she activated her lightsaber. Neville removed his lightsaber from his waist and thumbed the ignition, though he did not activate his weapon.
Luna stared at Tracey with a hint of amusement. "I see you recognize the colors I wear. The heliopaths told me of them. I know Darth Gladiolus will not approve, but I wanted to wear them once."
"You're a traitor, Lovegood, wearing Jedi robes."
"Have you not considered the galaxy beyond may believe the Sith gone? By wearing the enemy's colors, we can pass as we please," Lovegood said, sounding almost like their master when she corrected any error she perceived in them. Tracey's hackles rose, sensing a shred of superiority from the odd blonde. "You can also consider our world, if you do not think Darth Gladiolus shall take you into the stars beyond. The public expects us to wear black like Darth Gladiolus. If we instead dress in different colors, we will be free—"
"They already know who we are, Lovegood," Tracey snarled. She shifted forward a few inches, preparing herself to duel both of her fellow apprentices—assuming they were truly Sith like her. "What of you, Longbottom? What are your thoughts on Lovegood showing up dressed like a Jedi?"
Neville glanced between the two girls with a slight furrow. "It's distasteful, but I understand her reasoning." He grimaced at receiving dark glowers from both women. "Tracey's right, of course. You should not dress that way, Luna. Maybe once we're full-fledged Sith Lords. But we remain apprentices still."
Tracey frowned. Something about Neville's response struck her as disingenuous. She presumed it was only her suspicion over his weak defense of Lovegood. Yet the feeling itched in the back of her mind. Something was amiss with Lovegood and Longbottom. Something she feared she was failing to grasp, despite it happening right before her.
Could it be he no longer wishes to become a Sith?
It was a mad thought. Yet it struck Tracey powerfully—in a flash of inspiration—and left her rattled. Was she the only true apprentice to Darth Gladiolus, the Dark Lord of the Sith? It could not be true! She had gathered with these two several times—but always with their master present. She had never delved into their feelings until here and now. She had never gone to Longbottom Manor or sought out Lovegood at the Ministry.
"So you three have finally arrived," drawled a familiar voice. The speaker crackled her words, yet Tracey relaxed at the soothing lull of Darth Gladiolus's drawl. "Good! I see that you are all present. Were it not for Davis preparing to fight Lovegood, I might have waited longer. Stretch out your mercurial patience until it draws you into action.
"Though conflict is a key aspect of our ways, I would be a poor teacher if I permitted fighting amongst you three without aim or purpose. Violence for its sake is barbarism. Sith are greater than that. Every act of violence we commit furthers our goals. For myself, each act I commit furthers my aim of freedom—true freedom—and to secure the lasting independence of this world.
"I desire from each of you to consider what your goal as a Sith Lord shall be. Do you want power purely for its sake? Or would you pursue it for a loftier goal? Is everything I teach you used purely to further blind ambition, or does that ambition drive you forward into the realm of greatness?"
A door Tracey failed to spot upon her arrival suddenly slid open. "You will find me deeper within this complex. I had it constructed for other purposes, but it is suitable for testing you three." Their master fell silent for a moment. "In the future, perhaps one of you will use this complex to train apprentices of your own."
"And if we do not?" asked Longbottom.
"Then you have made other choices. I could not fault you for not taking to this place as I have, for only Davis has experience with these halls." Darth Gladiolus fell silent for a moment. "I would be greatly disappointed if your cause to not use Ziost Hangar proved to be betrayal, Neville. If you are to strike me down, I will expect you to pour the full extent of your hatred into the blow. Better you be transformed into a Sith Lord than to wallow like the weak."
Longbottom and Lovegood exchanged wary glances. Tracey suspected they possessed none of the loyalty to their master and the Sith ways that she held on to. But they had been chosen not for loyalty, but to use their power.
Power is everything as a Sith. If I am to succeed my master, then I must be the most powerful. And if I'm to grow in power… Tracey gazed around the antechamber until she found the speaker from where their master's voice emerged. I must play along with whatever plot she has planned for us.
"What is our mission?"
"You are to find me and defeat me if you can," her master drawled. You may work together. But note that reliance on an uncertain ally can lead to your downfall, just as if you face a foe more powerful than you."
Tracey watched Lovegood and Longbottom. Their faces hardened. Yet their eyes betrayed a shared fear. They would hide their fear to protect their lives and goals. And yet Tracey sensed what they feared being exposed: Treachery.
She understood intellectually that betrayal was intrinsic to a Sith's nature. After all, Lady Bastila had spoken warmly of how she had planned to grow strong enough to strike down her master, Lord Revan, and become the Sith Master and rule instead of bowing to him. Tracey considered that way of thinking. Could she truly become stronger than her master? Could she strike down Lord Gladiolus?
I must if I wish to surpass her expectations and be named a Sith Lord, Tracey thought. She grimaced. Her thoughts felt forced, as though they had come from some dark, unnatural corner of her heart.
Perhaps they had. Perhaps through embracing the Sith and their ways, she had twisted and disfigured her soul until nothing but a putrid blackness remained. If she were frank with herself, she could not fathom a life where she did not make this choice. Perhaps only in those lives where Edelweiss Potter somehow never became Darth Gladiolus. But that was absurd. Her master had been destined to become the Dark Lord of the Sith.
And so I must be a worthy apprentice. One day I will strike down my Sith Master, and become the Sith Master in her place. That is the fate of all who are Sith: to destroy or be destroyed.
Neville sensed a change in Tracey Davis. He struggled to not stare at her as fear gripped his heart. he sensed a seismic shift in her conviction. Where once there had been a weakness of piety deep down, it had been shattered and replaced with the strength of clarity. The middling Sith apprentice chained down by her loyalty had suddenly evolved into a Sith apprentice who truly believed every tenant and plank of the false religion that destroyed the good woman named Edelweiss Potter.
His gaze jumped to Luna. She watched Davis with wary care, already sensing and understanding the change that suddenly occurred within their alleged peer. He knew then that he and his ally would not find common ground with Davis. They might all desire to strike down Darth Gladiolus, but only one among them desired to assume the position of Sith Lord.
His right hand clenched. He fought the temptation to activate his lightsaber. Davis held her lightsaber at the ready; could she know how likely a duel was? Despite his strength and Luna's speed, she was the better duelist. He knew that most of the success he and Luna experienced during their practice spars occurred solely because Davis permitted them. He had never understood why—and part of him suspected Gladiolus wished to squash whatever shred of weakness led Davis to fight them so.
"We should work together," Luna said. She watched Davis as though she might suddenly lash out. "She's stronger than each of us. If we try and fight her separately—"
"—she'll kill us quickly if we're lucky," Davis finished. At Luna's disturbed look, she shrugged. "We all know it's true. Our master is not squeamish about punishing severe failure with death. It is the appropriate punishment."
Something about her last statement set Neville on edge. Between the shift within Davis and her words, he had a terrible feeling she would not hesitate to cut them down, should they give her cause. Perhaps that was what their master desired: not to test their strength against her, but for them to cull each other. He had learned enough from Sith long dead to know that culling the weak among their numbers was a common—and disturbing—trend. Why it had been permitted to begin with troubled him.
That makes you a bad Sith, a dark part of his mind whispered. Darth Gladiolus must know that your heart is not dedicated to the path she's set before you. That's why she's put together this little trial. To make you commit—or to end you.
He caught Luna's eye. He wondered if she had managed to completely fool Gladiolus. Deep down, Neville suspected it was unlikely. That he could question whether or not Gladiolus suspected them allowed his heart to grasp at hope. A chance remained that their master only suspected them of betrayal. And if that were true, then a chance remained they could remove the Dark Lord of the Sith without risking a new monster arising in her place.
"Fine," Neville eventually muttered. "Davis, you lead the way. Your weapon is more defensive than ours. I doubt she'll come at us head first, but you never know."
Davis regarded him with suspicion. The look lingered for several long seconds before she nodded. "Come along then, Longbottom. You best watch—and defend—my back."
Without waiting for a response, Davis strode through the doorway and into the structure prepared by Darth Gladiolus. Neville clenched his lightsaber in a tight grasp. He needed to be ready for any attack—and he would trust in the Force to alert him when danger finally arrived.
Luna Lovegood trailed several paces behind Neville Longbottom, who trailed behind Tracey Davis. She knew it had been expected for her to remain close at hand. But between Davis's apparent succumbing to the dark side's corruptive influence and Neville's difficulty in masking the secrets of his heart, she needed to keep her distance between them and herself. After all, she increasingly had cause to trust neither.
Luna snorted softly as her hand rose to brush the crescent necklace she wore. Me. Worried about who I can and cannot trust. Alas, that which becomes of youth: the slow death of hope and joy.
A sigh escaped her. Neville glanced back with a concerned frown, while Davis ignored them entirely. The Sith apprentice must not truly think them a threat. She could understand not viewing Neville as one. After all, he had been perceived as weak for most of his time at Hogwarts. To add insult to injury, he was apprenticed to his grandmother's killer. His strength could bring down the Sith, but only if he could get around the superior technique of their foes.
Luna Lovegood was a threat. She was not some simple girl to be cast aside on a whim. She had developed herself into something more. Someone more. Stronger. Made of sterner stuff than her father, who might have possessed a spine rigid enough to not back down against the Ministry, but had proved incapable against Darth Gladiolus's dominating sway. It did not help that Luna increasingly suspected her Sith Master used the power of the dark side to sway the minds of the general public. Already she knew the auror corps belonged to the new Dark Lord. That had been accomplished before the Janus Rebellion, when few knew the truth about the monster that controlled magical Britain.
She did not carry her lightsaber. She had no cause to do so. Luna knew her true strength resided in the Force, not in a tool. She could fight with her lightsaber adequately. But compared to her counterparts, she was the weakest with the blade. Neville could overpower her with brute force. Davis possessed a technical knowledge of her weapon and preferred forms that came across as prodigious to an unknowing eye.
They continued down the long, seemingly endless durasteel corridor. They had yet to deviate from their path, for the walls neither turned nor gave way to alcoves or doors. Luna feared they would follow this path until either their patience frayed into violence or they reached where Darth Gladiolus waited. And regardless of which path they might follow, she knew lightsabers would activate and blood would be shed.
Deep in her gut, Luna knew someone would die this day. The Force clouded her vision of the future, hiding certainty from her. But she sensed distress on its currents. The Force was life manifest, binding the living and the not living together. Given what she felt, she feared Darth Gladiolus would not be the one to perish. After all, the Dark Lord of the Sith warped and poisoned the currents of the Force. Oh, how clean and sweet it was when joined willingly! The rare chances to embrace the Force without the blazing taint of the dark side had been the finest moments of Luna's year. She had to be careful about embracing the Force so, for she suspected Darth Gladiolus would sense such betrayal.
She brushed her necklace again. Fashioned through Sith alchemy, it would strengthen her connection to the Force. She hoped it would be enough for what she had to do.
"How do you think she will test us?" Neville asked Davis.
"She'll test my certainty," she replied. "I've held back in our practice duels. I have not treated them as seriously as I should have. My loyalty to her has become a hindrance to my development as a Sith."
"And for me?"
Davis regarded Neville coolly for several seconds. She then turned forward and muttered, "Your faith in the dark side of the Force and the Sith Code is weak. She will see it strengthened, or you will be destroyed." Davis shrugged. "I cannot fault our master for her choice. If I am not strong enough to fight her as I must, then she will destroy me as well."
"How can you stand the thought of allowing her to destroy you?" asked Neville, unable to suppress his horror.
"You know the Sith Code, Longbottom. Passion. Strength. Power. Victory. This path I must embrace; if not, then I am unworthy to call myself a Sith." Davis glanced over her shoulder at Luna. For a split second, she swore the other woman's eyes burned with the same sulfuric shade that consumed Gladiolus. "Lovegood will have the most difficult time, for she is spiritually a Jedi and not a Sith. She gives lip service to the Sith and the Code, even as she hardens her heart against the way she must willingly embrace to ensure her survival."
Neville did not respond. He did not glance back at Luna. He only continued to follow behind Davis, his lightsaber in hand. He straightened: shoulders rolled back, chest puffed out. Luna sensed his actions were for himself and not for Davis. Yet the fallen one shifted in response. Her weapon, which had hung limply in her right hand, straightened within a tighter grasp. Her thumb rested on the ignition. With a twitch, Davis could ignite both blades and act before Neville or Luna.
Luna watched on carefully. She trusted Neville enough to know that should the three of them fight, he would prove a stalwart ally against Davis. They would persist as allies, but any friendship between them had to be sacrificed for the greater good. Given their position, any friendly feeling risked exposing their plan. They had no other options when their foe proved deadly enough to slay You-Know-Who and Dumbledore in a single night. They needed to be ready for anything Darth Gladiolus threw their way.
And then they crossed a slightly indented threshold. The facility shook and groaned.
Darth Gladiolus drew out of her meditations. She had activated the facility's defenses hours before her apprentices arrived. She reached out and inspected the systems, wondering which they had foolishly activated. When she realized they had flipped a simple proximity alarm, she frowned. Could they truly be so pitiful as to not notice even the simplest of traps? Or were they distracted by personal enmity?
It is the latter, she realized. Gladiolus smiled to herself. She had presumed they would fight amongst their number, but never had she thought their fighting could lead to activating the defenses in this part of Ziost Hangar.
She almost burst out laughing. How ironic that traps meant for regular humans could catch a trio of Sith apprentices, regardless of their strength—or their weakness.
Come, you three. Come prove that you were worthy of my attention to begin.
Neville widened his stance the moment an earthquake rippled through the facility. He glanced around as he recalled the hedge maze Edelweiss raced through in their fourth year. That, he firmly believed, was before she discovered the Sith and the dark side of the Force. They could have done something differently—anything. The trouble, Neville knew, was that they had no clue what could have stopped Edelweiss from finding the Sith holocrons. But then if she had never discovered the Sith, Voldemort could still live—
"Merlin's beard," Davis grumbled, shocking Neville from thoughts of the past with her witchy swear. She stood several paces away. "This was not what I expected."
"I agree," Neville declared. He smiled when she glowered at him. "This feels like something Edelweiss would have prepared, not Gladiolus." He paused before adding with a sly smirk, "Then again, our 'master' is both."
"She is only Darth Gladiolus, the Dark Lord of the Sith," Davis reminded him.
"She speaks true," added Luna. Neville glanced at her, unable to help the slight feeling of betrayal that ran through him. "Edelweiss Potter is dead. Darth Gladiolus replaced her, wearing her skin and speaking with her voice."
"…that's a grim way to view it," Neville grumbled.
"Yet Lovegood is right. Our master replaced Edelweiss Potter. And I imagine if Potter dared reveal the truth to you during her final year at Hogwarts, she would have confessed in the end that nothing but Darth Gladiolus would remain. For her… it was inevitable. A foregone conclusion. One we should embrace ourselves."
"…so you're saying that 'Tracey Davis' will die?"
Davis nodded. "One day I will be a Sith Lord like our master. She will grant me a Sith name to replace my current one. Just as she claimed the name of the warrior's flower, I shall have a name suited to heritage and destiny alike." She shot Neville a pointed look. "Given your fear of becoming a Sith Lord, I would say you are unfit to become one. Unfortunately, it is not for me to decide your fate, Longbottom. That choice is reserved to you… and to our master. Should she find your wanting, well…"
Neville grunted, unimpressed by Davis's words. He sensed his fellow in opposition to Darth Gladiolus draw close to him. He straightened slightly and prepared to put forward his own defiance against Tracey Davis.
Luna would not fault Neville for how he responded to Davis's verbal aggression. They had no real argument against that point, for neither of them desired to become a Sith Lord. Their reasons for becoming one of Darth Gladiolus's apprentices differed, even though they now shared the common goal of dethroning the one they called "master" without replacing her as the new Sith Master.
"If she finds me wanting, then she can act as she wishes," Neville said before Davis could press. "I will not lie down and die for her. I am not easy prey like those she surprised during the Janus Rebellion."
Davis scoffed. For a moment, Luna feared their argument would continue—or worse, break into fighting. Instead, Davis turned and continued. The rumbling and shaking had ended while they had stopped so Neville and Davis could argue. Luna had watched on, knowing she had nothing to contribute. She had already given up the Sith ways. Yes, she would use the potential of Sith alchemy and Sith sorcery to bring about Darth Gladiolus's destruction, but it was not guaranteed.
She may have sold her soul for nothing. No choice but to continue.
"Come on," Neville said before Davis could create too much distance. "We should stick close to Davis. Gladiolus may have modified this structure to punish us should we split up."
Luna nodded and allowed Neville to lead the way, ever following Davis's wake.
Tracey sensed Neville and Luna continuing to follow her. She hated their weakness and foolishness. They held tightly to their arrogant judgment and silly ideas of morality. They would destroy themselves. Embracing the dark side would protect them from that destruction. The path to ascension—to becoming a Sith Lord—would be closed unless they soon changed. Tracey saw the path before them. She knew that without embracing the dark side of the Force, they would be left to languish in weakness. Assuming they did not perish, naturally.
Power was everything in this world. Her master had revealed that truth to her. It had taken the holocrons of the ancient dead to help open her eyes to that truth, though. And only today had she come to terms with what she embraced as a Sith.
She reached a door after several minutes. She glanced across its wide frame, illuminated by soft white lights. Tracey recognized it from the singular time her master showed her the path down from the Chamber of Secrets and into the main hold of Ziost Hangar. As a Slytherin, she had been honored to enter the secret chamber of her house's founder. It did not impress her as Ziost Hangar had; yet the Chamber of Secrets was an ancient place of value to Tracey Davis. She was among the rare few who had ever seen that mystical place.
Longbottom and Lovegood caught up to her after a few minutes. The door opened.
Blaster fire poured through the wide doorway. Tracey ignited her lightsaber while Longbottom and Lovegood ducked behind the doorframe. With her double-bladed lightsaber, it was child's play to deflect and block the barrage, even as it focused on her. She remained where she had been caught for several heartbeats before taking a step forward.
The barrage intensified. Tracey took another step and another, always moving forward.
She continued pushing forward. The barrage failed to lessen until she had pushed forward several steps into the massive chamber. It resembled the hangar of a "capital ship" as her master called them, though none of the expected "snubfighters" sat in the many empty docks. A few platforms hung above her; none of her attackers stood up there. Oddly, the source of the blaster fire did not move positions as she continued her push. She could no sense an attempt to flank her.
Something is not right here. Tracey had learned from Lady Bastila about battle tactics when blasters and lightsabers were used as part of her battle meditation training. Given her choice to enter the hangar, some of her attackers should be moving to flanking positions. They had yet to move toward flanking positions. That meant they either possessed a tactic she was ignorant of or their programming was wrong. Maybe her master had designed this chamber as one of the testing sites.
This could not have been meant for me. Why else would the doors remain closed until they joined me? Tracey nodded to herself. That idea sounded better than the thought this was meant to test her abilities. However, that brought into question how this scenario was meant to test Longbottom or Lovegood. Were they meant to work with Tracey to overcome these attackers? That felt decided un-Sith-like, despite the fact working together would make achieving their goal easier. Maybe their master merely wished to see how they handled a challenge only a Sith Lord could overcome.
Whichever it is, I cannot remain passive for long. The longer I defend, the weaker I will be for whatever else awaits me. Tracey breathed out slowly as she widened her stance. Let me show Longbottom and Lovegood what a Sith apprentice can do.
She sprung high into the air, twirling and spinning. the dual blades of her lightsaber remained around her, deflecting blaster bolts as they tracked her through the air. Tracey waited until she was nearly to the platforms before breaking out of her spin. She pushed softly off the sparse molecules in the air superheated by the blaster fire following her—her master had taught her some of muggle science, along with Lady Bastila—and rocketed onto the nearest platform.
Tracey knew she would not have long. The platform beneath her feet already warmed as blaster fire splashed against it. With how many enemies she possessed, their barrage would eventually cook a hole through the durasteel.
Still, her position granted her a chance to safely monitor the enemy. About five dozen droids were positioned along the far ridge, blaster rifles raised and firing. All were focused on where she stood, aiming to either shoot her down or force her to make an error.
Keep moving.
With the Force propelling her, Tracey leaped from platform to platform. She made an effort to pick them at random, earning enough space from the blaster barrage to reach the next platform without needing to deflect with her lightsaber. And as she slowly worked her way across the chamber, she found herself wondering where her fellow Sith apprentices were.
They must act, Tracey thought, gritting as a blaster bolt skimmed past her. Unless they mean to sacrifice me. She was getting close. And the closer she got, the quicker the droids could spot and shoot at her.
Come on, you two, she thought bitterly. Act. Act!
"We must move!" Neville hissed. He had followed Luna's example, hiding behind the doorframe into the large hangar while Davis pushed forward. It proved a wise decision, for Davis's double-bladed lightsaber allowed her to push forward against a stream of blaster fire with relative ease. The choice to hold back did trouble him as a Gryffindor, but his time with Sith holocrons had opened his eyes to other tactics.
Luna nodded. Neville wondered exactly why she followed his lead now instead of acting as she saw fit. Perhaps she sought to use him instead of working with him. That conclusion felt off, but then she proposed they use this test to eliminate the Sith Lord, Darth Gladiolus. He feared they would have to kill Davis before the end. Murder sat ill with him, but it was necessary. Britain could not persist with a monster like Darth Gladiolus ruling it for long. Already she had destroyed a rebellion. Were it not for the fact the auror corps belonged to her, heart and soul, another rebellion would likely be brewing.
That was what Neville wished to believe.
They dashed forward, holding low to the durasteel floor. The droids maintained their focus on Davis, who leaped from platform to platform above them. Time passed, quicker and quicker, between her leaping and the droids firing at her. All the while, she pressed forward. One of the droids would eventually score a hit.
And once that happened, the droids would notice Neville and Luna and turn their blasters on the other apprentices. If Luna was like him, then she possessed no training in deflecting blasters. Their focus on the lightsaber had been dueling. They had presumed that practice would grant them the skills necessary to defeat Darth Gladiolus—and Davis, as well.
Luna stopped before Neville. He neared a console he hoped controlled a bridge across to where the droids stood shooting at Davis. Upon reaching it, he realized Luna had stopped following. He glanced back. Luna stood several paces away, eyes closed and hands reaching forward. He wondered what she was doing—and then he felt her power in his bones.
His breath caught in his throat. Neville understood that Luna was powerful in the Force. But never had he suspected she possessed enough strength to affect every droid firing at Davis. He watched as they slowly rose into the sky, no longer able to aim and fire their blasters. Several long seconds passed before they cracked and crunched. A moment after that, sparking chunks and parts fell to the distant floor.
Davis dropped from the rafters, landing softly amongst the droid parts. She shot a glower at Luna. Neville stiffened as outrage slithered through him. Davis should thank her fellow apprentice for bailing her out.
"We should be working together so that we can overcome Gladiolus's strength," Neville said. "You need to—"
"I'm moving on. Alone," Davis snarled. "And don't you dare tell me what I should or should not do, Longbottom." She strode away, heading for the far door. Neville could not hear the door as it slid open for Davis. She paused just beyond the threshold, too near for the door to close automatically behind her. For a moment, he thought she might wait for them to join her.
With a swipe of her hand, Davis crumpled the door, leaving a sparking, inoperable barrier between them.
"We'll need to find another way," Neville told Luna. "She's cut us off."
She shook her head. "She has not. The Force will see us through."
Neville sighed and nodded. He wished he had her faith in the Force. But he could not justify that faith. And so he watched impotently as Luna used the Force to pry open the destroyed door.
Tracey resisted the primal urge to stop as she pressed onward. The damaged door might slow Longbottom, but Luna would push through. They would be back on her heels soon enough. Her grip tightened. Though they tried to exhauster with those droids, she knew she could cut down Longbottom and Lovegood without issue. They were weaker than her. She could—
She sensed her master. She had expected to sense her master earlier, for none could match Darth Gladiolus in power. Davis longed for that power. She coveted it. Tracey tried to stop being surprised that she desired her master's power now. Ever since her revelation before the beginning of this trial, a small voice in the back of her mind had begun to egg her on. It demanded she seek power and gather it within herself. Once she had enough, she could strike down her master and ascend as the new Sith Master.
"There you are," Tracey whispered, all thoughts of the other apprentices gone from her mind. "Wait for me, master. For I will prove myself!"
She pressed on, unaware her eyes blazed a poisonous yellow.
Neville trained behind Luna, reeking of a wariness that compelled her to focus on the road ahead. She sensed Davis before them, continuing to move forward. The dark side clung tightly to the other apprentice. Tracey Davis had made her decision; she had chosen the dark side and the fate that awaited all Sith. If there had been a shred of hope to save their fellow apprentice from the darkness, it was now lost. They would need to fight master and apprentice if they wished to succeed.
"Was that her?" asked Neville. He shivered as though struck by a wintery breeze.
"It was. She's made her decision. If we fail, Gladiolus will grant her a new name."
"A Sith one."
Luna nodded. Relief filled her that Neville possessed the intelligence to realize what struck her almost immediately. Her jaw clenched as she considered their options. Had she made other decisions, Luna would not worry over how to stop Lord Gladiolus. Had she chosen the Janus Rebellion, she would be dead by now. Had she chosen to reject the apprenticeship, she would be with her father, lost in life as she bounced between odd jobs. And had she chosen to reject her resistance to the dark side, she would be just like Davis:
Lost.
"Then we need to move faster," Neville said. He breathed out heavily before increasing his pace. Luna blinked before following suit. If they allowed Davis to reach Gladiolus before them, then all hope could be lost.
Divide and conquer was a strategy for a reason: it permitted the wise and weak to defeat the arrogant and strong.
Sulfuric eyes flickered open. Darth Gladiolus smiled; she sensed her three apprentices. Her loyal apprentice neared, followed by those two… fools. Fools who believed that learning a little of the dark side of the Force would grant them strength enough to ace and defeat a Sith Lord. She parsed out their emotions and frowned. Neville had come to embrace Hermione's silly notion that Gladiolus had murdered Edelweiss Potter. Idiots and fools! Edelweiss sacrificed whom she had been to ascend: to become something greater than her destined self.
As for Lovegood, she sensed regret and dedication. The girl truly had become one of Hermione's silly, stupid learners. She would perish, learning what she had been tricked into believing had always been a fool's errand, no better than a lie.
She rose to her feet and left her meditation chamber. She had not planned to meet them this soon. Gladiolus had planned to let them fight first. But that was unnecessary now. She would cull the weak. Only those worthy to be her apprentice would remain.
The sole question was whether or not any remained worthy.
The durasteel door hissed open, revealing a massive chamber. Neville entered first, followed by Luna. Tracey stood in the center, absently twirling her deactivated weapon. She glanced over her shoulder at them before turning her gaze back to the far door.
"She's not here yet," Luna murmured.
Neville nodded. They had feared they would not catch Davis before Darth Gladiolus could arrive. They managed to accomplish their goal, though something about this chamber sat ill with him. The nearer wall was over forty yards away, while the walls to their left and right were over thrice that distance. The ceiling loomed high above them. Were it not for the strips of white light dotting the ceiling, they would not know how high it loomed.
"Do you think…?" began Neville, his voice trailing off as a door across the chamber hissed open.
Darth Gladiolus, Dark Lord of the Sith, entered the chamber. She wore a sleeveless tunic and a cloth wrap over her trousers. Gauntlets and boots comprised of an unfamiliar metal gleamed in the brightly lit chamber. Her blazing sulfuric eyes swept past Tracey Davis to the pair behind her.
"Luna Lovegood. Neville Longbottom. I offered power and strength to you both. I offered the chance to rework the world into a shape that fits your desires. And how have you repaid my kindness? With betrayal and infidelity."
Davis glanced between her master and her former peers. A sickly look clung to them and the sockets seemed rather hollow, lined with purple bruising that had not been present earlier.
The dark side's taint.
Neville decided, then and there, that he would never again use the Force after this day. All it had wrought upon Britain was pain and suffering. He would make it his life's work to bury all knowledge of the Force, including the foul ways that turned Edelweiss Potter into Darth Gladiolus.
That all depended on his survival. There was no guarantee of that, or even of victory.
"So you realized our intention," said Luna. She tossed away her brown robe and drew her lightsaber. The crescent necklace she wore flickered with light, taking on a dark cast. The blade that hissed to life was not the familiar crimson of the Sith, but a pure white that filled Neville with peace and hope. "I only agreed to join you because it granted me the chance to avenge Hermione. To do justice by her memory."
"I did not take you for such a fool," Darth Gladiolus declared. Her gaze shifted to Neville. "And you, Longbottom?"
He nearly flinched upon meeting her piercing gaze. He could feel her screaming traitor into his mind. Did she believe that word alone would freeze his courage and compel him back to her side? Any chance of him returning to the Sith fold had been lost the moment he agreed to assist Luna in her plot to destroy the Sith.
She knew, Neville realized. Gladiolus learned what we planned and plotted this 'trial' so she could dispose of us without losing face before the public. He glanced at Davis, who had not moved closer to her master or further from the traitors. Her grip was white-knuckled. What about you? You could have disposed of us without involving Darth Gladiol—
Realization struck Neville hard. He feared their fate was doubtful now. Perhaps only dubious. Gladiolus sought to not only eliminate himself and Luna through means that the public would not question, but she also established the stage for Davis to prove herself as a Sith apprentice. Should she perform as expected, she might earn that Sith title she lusted for.
"Shall we begin?" asked Darth Gladiolus as she rolled her tattooed shoulders. Her lightsaber sprung into her hand, the crimson blade igniting before the hilt slapped into her palm. With a roar that rippled through the Force, she leaped thirty yards across the chamber, landing just beside Davis.
"Kill Longbottom, Davis, and you will truly be my apprentice. You will be worthy of the title: Sith Lord." She smiled maliciously. "Lovegood is mine."
Davis's eyes widened and then narrowed fiercely. A trace of the sulfuric yellow Neville witnessed earlier returned as she focused her will on slaying him. She ignited her lightsaber and twirled it about with great theatrics. He raised his weapon. After a moment to breathe out slowly, Neville ignited the crimson blade, casting a bloody light across his face. Once he might have been honored to wield a crimson blade. But his love and loyalty to that color had been diminished, and now murdered, by the Sith Lord that consumed Edelweiss Potter.
I will stop her apprentice, and help Luna stop her. The Sith Lords end today.
He lunged forward just as Davis sprung to her left, her double-bladed lightsaber spinning like a shield before her. Neville never defeated her in their spars. But that was the past. A chance always existed for the impossible, especially on a day like this, when the fate of the world hung in the balance.
Luna cursed under her breath as Gladiolus slammed against her with wild, unpredictable flurries. Despite Djem So's focus on turning a foe's strength against them, she struggled to take advantage of any hole she spotted in the Sith Lord's assault. And given that half were exposed on purpose, she suspected that taking those would lead to her swift and brutal death.
"You have already lost," Darth Gladiolus taunted as she weaved through a pair of slices Luna threw her way, trying to create enough space to ground herself. "Your heart knows you cannot defeat me, so it fails to grant you the strength you require for victory. You are no Jedi, Lovegood. You will never defeat me."
"I'll… find a… way!" Luna snarled as she turned aside a heavy overhead chop. Her attempt to follow through her defense with a quick slash was thwarted by a burst of indigo Force lightning. The bolts drove Luna several steps back, catching against her blade as she worked to deflect them away. Naturally, Darth Gladiolus sidestepped the last deflected blast of Force lightning. She then lunged forward swiftly, almost blurring into shades of black with two piercing yellow eyes.
"A way? Do not make me laugh!" Gladiolus shouted. She thrust forward an open hand and sent Luna flying. She held tightly to her deactivating lightsaber as she soared through the sky, passing over the bitter crimson clash of Neville and Davis. A moment passed as she descended from the sky where she was tempted to interfere in that duel.
But Luna could not expose her back to Gladiolus—and interfering in the other due would accomplish only that. She could not fail this day. Not when the fate of billions—perhaps even trillions—relied on the choices she made.
Luna landed on her feet. Luna considered her options and then made the only choice available to her. She raised her hands, reached for the poisonous fire of the dark side burned into the necklace she wore, and cast an illusion thicker than fog over the North Sea on all three arrayed before her.
Neville would need to fight his way through the illusion. She trusted in his strength. He was strong, despite what he thought. Certainly, he was strong enough to break the illusion before either Sith. Unfortunately, she could not provide him with easy means out of the illusion without offering the same to Gladiolus and Davis.
Luna poured the full strength of her power in the Force, strengthened by her education in Sith sorcery and her working of Sith alchemy. She watched Neville, Davis, and Darth Gladiolus stiffen briefly before being trapped in illusions their minds framed on her behalf.
She stood there and held the illusions, knowing her life depended on them.
Hurry, Neville. You must be the one to strike her down now.
Neville blinked and looked around in a fright. Within a heartbeat, he mysteriously departed the massive chamber where he dueled Tracey Davis and found himself in what looked to be an abandoned part of Hogwarts. He held his lightsaber, tightly crimson continuing to illuminate a side of his face. He could only sense the touch of the dark side on the weapon's kyber crystal as he lowered the blade.
Explosions rang out from elsewhere. He glanced around and stumbled as the floor briefly shook beneath his feet.
He raised his lightsaber as he continued to survey the corridor. Several portrait frames lined each wall, yet they remained blank. No movement. No signs of life. Not even backgrounds to suggest what had once been present. They were completely blank.
Is this Luna's doing? Neville wondered. He had noticed her fly away from her duel with Darth Gladiolus. Davis required too much of his—
A warmth suddenly passed near his head. He scurried back several steps as he raised his lightsaber. For a split second, he thought something deflected off his blade. But the sensation vanished too suddenly to make sense. He waited several long seconds, weapon raised, and waited for another strike to brush her blade.
None came.
Maybe this is a dream, Neville thought. Luna's trapped us all in our minds and I have to find my way out before Davis—or worse, Gladiolus—can break free and slay her. He knew little of her Sith sorcery studies beyond being a deceptively powerful means of wielding the dark side of the Force. Luna had spoken poorly of the practice, though she had never dared suggest she would abandon it entirely.
Neville shifted his feet as another explosion rocked through Hogwarts. He frowned. Was this some battle he had never heard of? Had this fight been fabricated from some wandering mind? Or could it be that this was a future stolen from magical Britain?
A sound, rapid and hurried, drifted his way. It slowly grew nearer. He paused and listened, trying to identify it. The sound was familiar. Familiar, almost like—
Footsteps!
Neville raised his lightsaber and strengthened his stance. He would wait to meet the approaching figure before acting. Given the strangeness of the vision around him, Neville judged it safer to treat what happened as though it were real than to disregard any potential danger. He feared Luna had only caught his mind in an illusion, leaving his body free to move. And if that were the case, then Davis and Darth Gladiolus remained threats to not just Luna, but himself as well.
I must find a way out, then.
A figure came around the corner, dressed in the black robes commonplace at Hogwarts. They—she—stopped suddenly, emerald green eyes fixed on the crimson blade before Neville.
Emerald… eyes?
He blinked. Standing before Neville was not Darth Gladiolus, but the girl she once was. Edelweiss Potter existed before him, seventeen, hale, and untouched by the dark side of the Force. Here stood the Girl-Who-Lived, untainted by Salazar Slytherin's vile legacy.
Here stood his old friend, holly wand in hand and a pair of glasses on her nose.
"Neville? Why are you up here? What's that?" she asked, staring at the weapon in his hand. Neville glanced at it, then back to Edelweiss. How could he explain everything that had happened to him?
Then again, she was a figment of his imagination. He could tell her whatever he wanted, or so he presumed.
"It's a special weapon. One I found in the bottom of a false drawer in this part of the castle."
Unsurprisingly, dream Edelweiss accepted the lie without issue. "Were there any more?" she asked, surprising him with her curiosity. The Edelweiss he recalled had never been that inquisitive. Not without cause, which he guessed this Edelweiss did possess.
An explosion rocked Hogwarts. He nearly asked what was happening around them. But he had the feeling that to ask risked his mind and sanity. Whatever Luna had done to forge this illusion rested on his mind remaining whole. And his gut—and the Force—screamed he needed to take care with his words, else he upset the balance. He needed to maintain the illusion around him for now. It was safer, and it had been kind enough to reunite him with an old friend.
He met her green eyes and said, "I wish there had been another. I think it would suit you."
She nodded. Shouts and screams approached. Neville tried to not think about what he would do when the dream around him ended. Death awaited. Who's, though, remained uncertain...
Tracey Davis went through the motions of dueling two Jedi as her mind worked through the sudden and disturbing change around her. She stood on a world arid and red, the stone underlined with hints of orange and yellow. The Jedi stepped back, regrouping after their continued failure. Tracey breathed heavily as she prepared for another onslaught. The Jedi looked troubled by her defensive style. She made her decision, then and there, to choose a second lightsaber form to learn. While she appreciated Lady Bastila's instruction in the double-bladed variation of Soresu, she needed a better option than the primary method, defending, forcing her foe to waste their strength against her unyielding defense; or the seconding method, to use a blade for defense and a blade for attack.
She needed to crush her foes with ease. She needed to be able to attack with both and be so fierce and unyielding that no foe could even defend against her onslaught.
But first, I must slay these two. Tracey knew not what became of the chamber with Longbottom, Lovegood, and her master. She suspected Lovegood wielded Sith sorcery to place an illusion over their minds. That it held so firmly suggested Lovegood remained stationary, all her focus on maintaining the illusion. If she could break free quickly, then she could be the one to slay the blonde girl subduing her master.
The Jedi charged as one. Tracey raised her weapon to meet their mirrored slashes, stepping between them as she deflected their blades. One tried to spin about and stab her, but he was too slow. She severed his lightsaber's emitter and a few fingers with a swift, spinning slash. He screamed and retreated a few steps while his comrade stepped forward with a wordless shout.
Tracey played with the other Jedi until a gap emerged in his offensive. She dodged instead of deflecting and then stepped forward into the hole that opened up. The Jedi attempted to defend against her maneuver, but he had overcommitted to his last attack. She slammed a crimson blade through his chest before he could react. After a moment to ensure he breathed his last, Tracey withdrew and allowed his body to collapse beside her.
"You monster!" the other Jedi shouted.
"You're the fool who attacked me," she said with a sneer. "Your friend is dead because of your arrogance, Jedi."
Tracey knew her master hated the Jedi. So did the other Sith Lords she had spoken with via their holocrons. The reason for that hatred eluded her, though she guessed similarities in their orders meant every little difference had to be magnified. And by magnifying those differences, they sowed fertile ground for unending hatred. Hatred which empowered the Sith and weakened the Jedi.
Perhaps my hatred for Lovegood matches the hatred of the Sith for the Jedi.
The Jedi did not respond verbally. He growled and bared his teeth. He was not human, though he possessed a humanoid shape. The horns on his head suggested he was a Zabrak of Dathomir. How one of their number came to the Jedi was unknown to Tracey. Dathomir was a world beyond the reach of the Republic, whose Force-sensitives were witches locked in clan warfare forgotten across much of Earth.
"Try to kill me, then," Tracey declared once several seconds passed. "No doubt you wish to avenge your comrade. To see justice for his murder done."
"So you admit it was murder," the Zabrak said. He summoned his fallen fellow's lightsaber. With a snap-hiss, it ignited. "You're honest, for a Sith."
Tracey smiled politely. "Why lie to a dead man?"
Before he could react, she lunged forward. The Jedi tried to slice her in half, but she leaped over his strike. He watched her twirl over his head before jamming a blade through his exposed back. The tip pierced his heart, killing him instantly.
She breathed out as she withdrew her weapon. Tracey did not deactivate her weapon. She had no idea what else the illusion hid. She knew the illusions around her were Lovegood's doing. She knew nothing of what had been done to her mind. She could theorize all she wished, but that would not aid her in escaping the grasp of what Lovegood had done. And while it would be easy to rely on her master to shatter the illusion, she could not do that if she wished to truly be a Sith Lord.
Once this day is finished, I think I will also study Sith sorcery. Tracey thought it rather pathetic that she dared pursue a path followed by one of those traitors. But she hated how weak and impotent she was in the face of Sith sorcery. Had she possessed any knowledge of that discipline, then she could have broken free by now. Instead, she was trapped in this strange vision with Jedi who thought they could threaten a Sith.
Tracey growled as she scanned the area around her. No other Jedi appeared to be nearby, but she sensed them faintly. She should be able to sense their presence; none who drew power from the Force could truly hide from others. Only ignorance, from what Lady Bastila had taught her, could protect one completely from any searching through the Force. Ignorance of either one's power, or ignorance that one boasted power in the Force.
One could mask their presence, but masking and hiding were different.
She waited several seconds before deactivating her lightsaber. Tracey glanced up the cliff behind her. She spotted a narrow path that led higher to a cave entrance some fifty yards above.
Claim the high ground, her master and Lady Bastila taught her. Neither had taught her so physically, but they reminded her of that truth enough she internalized it. She started up the path, following it with swift yet careful movements. The path switchbacked three times before she reached the cave entrance.
A presence. She sensed a presence beyond the black opening. Whether it was friendly or an enemy, she could not say yet. But she had sensed a Jedi, not a Sith.
Tracey raised her weapon. She ignited both blades with snap-hisses before entering the bleak cave.
Darth Gladiolus stood in a black void. Luna Lovegood's Sith sorcery was responsible for this strange place. She peeredaround her environment, searching for a break in the black void surrounding her. Her lips curled downward. Nothing appeared to break the void. Nothing else appeared to be present with her.
"I can sense you, Lovegood," Darth Gladiolus drawled. "I know your heart. You believe that with the dark side of the Force—with Sith sorcery—you might manage to defeat me. But you are a fool! The dark side cannot defeat one like me. Not without embracing its power and all it means to be a Sith.
"I know for certain you do not believe in either. You think me an abomination. You think you must take up Hermione's fruitless crusade to depose me from power.
"You could be right, from a certain point of view. But unfortunately for you, the chance for victory over me cannot be grasped as you are. Had you waited and plotted and planned with Longbottom—and do not think I have not detected his involvement in this affair—then perhaps you could have gained enough power to overthrow me.
"But to overthrow me requires the will and willingness to be the next Dark Lord of the Sith."
The void fell silent, consuming her voice. Gladiolus frowned. She presumed she had not left where she last stood. She remained within the great dueling chamber beneath Hogwarts castle, connected to Ziost Hangar through a long, split hallway and a hangar designed to support a future defense of Earth. She could not trust that Earth's great distance from civilized space would preserve their safety. One had to be proactive, even in defense against hostile powers.
And then she sensed it. It was faint, but she sensed… one of the three she chose for an apprentice. Gladiolus closed her eyes and reached out, poking and prodding the source of what she sensed. It was dark enough that she could not say for certain whom among the three she sensed. Though despite the distance, Gladiolus had a feeling it was not Tracey Davis. Her presence in the Force had developed, growing stronger in the dark side before the trial began.
Either Longbottom or Lovegood. Which of them could it be…? Is it Lovegood, who has bound my mind to this void with Sith sorcery? Or is it Longbottom, caught up in the same trap as myself?
If he had been caught as well, then it meant they were all in different illusions. If that were true, then she suspected Luna Lovegood did not possess enough strength to maintain her sorcery illusion and strike down her enemies. She could only do one or the other. Luna did not possess the strength to slay Darth Gladiolus without her sorcerous advantage. It was uncertain if Lovegood could even stop Tracey Davis, who had just given herself to the dark side.
Gladiolus smiled. She realized once the illusion broke, Lovegood was dead. She might not perish immediately, but her time would count down from that moment. Once the countdown began, Luna was welcome to struggle for her life. And while Gladiolus knew allowing Tracey to destroy the sorcerer would ensure her apprentice fully committed to the dark side, she would not leave matters to fate. She would act as she saw fit, and only command her apprentice if it would benefit them both.
Now, I must break the illusion. Darth Gladiolus closed her eyes and reached out with the Force. Her instincts demanded she only grasp the dark side. But she knew an incomplete grasp of the Force would fail to shatter the illusion and stun Lovegood long enough to cut her down without resistance. And so she embraced it all, including the Cosmic Force. She breathed in, out, and then yanked on the full power of the Force.
White lines crackled around her. Gladiolus grinned. Her instincts proved right. She only needed to break the illusion and it would fall. Once that happened, she would be free to cut down Lovegood.
She grasped the Force once more. She drew even more power to her self, allowing it to flow through her veins like molten metal in a mold. Gladiolus reached out—
—and pushed. The white lines expanded. One moment passed. Two.
The void flashed with a stunning light, and then the great chamber beneath Hogwarts returned.
Gladiolus discovered Lovegood had collapsed. She panted heavily, her face wan and drained of color, coated in sweat. The necklace forged with Sith alchemy had shattered, leaving a blackened line across the girl's throat. The Sith Lord sped to where her prey rested, attempting to regain her breath. The girl's bleary blue eyes glanced up. Seconds passed before she realized what she saw.
A white lightsaber blade rose to block Darth Gladiolus. But the Sith Lord was too fast. Before the blade could be fully raised, she activated her lightsaber, swung her blade, and cleaved Luna Lovegood's head from her neck. She turned to face the severed head as the girl's lightsaber deactivated and clattered to the durasteel floor.
"A good showing, but you attempted to destroy me too early," Gladiolus told the corpse. "A shame, for you would have been a powerful Sith Lord."
The clashing of lightsabers drew Gladiolus's gaze from Luna's corpse. She found Longbottom and Davis once more dueled. To the Sith Lord's pleasant surprise, Davis had taken the advantage. She had been troubled when she learned Tracey had taken to Soresu over the other forms. But it was clear now that the girl had made the right choice. Where the form was meant for defensive purposes, the double-bladed lightsaber permitted a more offensive variation. One blade defended, the other attacked.
A beautiful, deadly display. She smiled and watched as Tracey pushed her advantage.
The illusion broke without warning. Tracey immediately knew her master had conquered Lovegood's admittedly impressive technique. She sensed that truth a moment after the desert world vanished. In the back of her mind, she wondered if that had been Korriban, the ancient homeworld of the Sith race whose name graced the order she belonged to. That mattered little, though.
The traitor Longbottom stood before her.
She would kill him. She would make her master proud and slay the fool who dared be swayed by the words of an insipid girl already deluded by ideas only a Jedi could hold.
Tracey kept up a pace of blocking and attacking, knowing that Neville would tire before her. She had trained more. She had the dark side to ensure her strength. She had the will and conviction to kill the other.
Neville backpedaled out of her range and raised his weapon into a high, Ataru guard. He breathed heavily and his weapon shook. Tracey grinned maliciously. "You will soon be dead, Longbottom. If I am fortunate, my master will give me my Sith name. No longer will I be Tracey Davis. I will be someone more. Something more."
Neville huffed. "I will not allow that."
"Then you will need to kill me, Longbottom." Tracey spun her weapon before her. "Unfortunately for you, I am the stronger. Soon you will be dead at my feet."
"Then come kill me."
Tracey resisted the temptation to wait and allow her opponent to dash his strength against her. He should be the better dueler, given his knowledge of Form Two, Makashi. Yet she knew she needed to strike first if she wanted to prove herself to her master. A Sith should not take the back foot. Not unless it guaranteed victory—and she had grown tired of taking the back foot. She would be the aggressor. She would hunt the enemy and destroy them.
Longbottom should prove a worthy foe to destroy, Tracey thought, snarling at him. He has stepped up and become what I want for myself; I must seize it from him.
She smiled and stepped forward. Longbottom stiffened. She appeared unphased by any threat he could pose.
Once Tracey got within four yards of Longbottom, she sprung forward. She did not lead with either blade, for that would signal to her foe which side she intended to attack. Either he relied on the Force and his instincts, or she would claim his life with the first blow.
He swung toward her left, throwing all the might he could draw from his body. Tracey spun her lightsaber, parrying his strong blow so his blade rose high above his head. She stepped forward into his guard, slammed the central part of her lightsaber's hilt into his nose, and then spun about, driving the blade home through his ribs.
Neville Longbottom tried to gasp but failed to make any sound. Blood trickled from his broken nose. His lightsaber deactivated as it fell from his hands. She withdrew her blade and retreated with a spin, keeping her blade low at her hip. The corpse collapsed first to its knees, and then to the ground.
"You have done well, apprentice," her master announced. Tracey turned to face Darth Gladiolus. She smiled proudly, her sulfuric eyes burning with pleasure. "Kneel."
Tracey did not question her master's command. Her weapon deactivated. Something powerful descended upon her. It took her a moment to realize it was the dark side of the Force. It coalesced in the chamber, surrounding them both.
She kneeled before her master and bent her head.
"You have done well," her master drawled. "You have embraced your future in slaying one who betrayed his word. Trust is fickle, just as our foes must be. We must see through their intentions." She paused. "His death was inevitable; you only hastened it. Be proud, for you have done well. You have proven your power and your willingness to do what must be done, apprentice. Rise no longer Tracey Davis, but as Darth… Myrddryn."
"You honor me, master," Darth Myrddryn said. She rose to her feet as the dark side settled in her bones. She was a Sith Lord now, though not yet a Sith Master.
But one day, I will claim that title for myself… along with others.
Note: Myrddryn is pronounced "Mirth - rin"