Alliances – 3660.025 BY

"Anral!" Zanleya called out, spotting the distinctive red trimmed robes of her preoccupied friend. It had taken her a good half hour to find him, hidden away in one of the smaller and less frequented cantinas on the fourteenth level. He had his head bowed and was idly using the force to swirl the remnants of a bowl of soup that looked like it had gone cold some time ago. His gaze snapped up as he heard her, his hand instinctively dropping to his side. Anral was the only member of their group of acolytes to possess a lightsaber, inherited from his parents, a source of both envy and awe to the rest of them, Zanleya included.

"Oh, greetings Zan," he said, returning his hand to rest on the table. She picked her way through the stools to sit opposite him and gifted him with a rare smile, although it quickly faded on looking into his strained face. He looked haggard; his usually bright orange eyes seemed dull, ringed with heavy shadow as if he had not slept in days. His face twisted into a rictus as he saw her expression change, fully aware of his own dishevelled appearance. They had barely spoken these last few weeks and it was a situation she was keen to remedy, especially now that she knew Jensine was after her blood. Still, it was not entirely selfishness that had set her out on this quest to find the pureblood.

"What's wrong?" Zanleya asked, genuine concern tinging her voice. "I've barely seen you recently, you even missed one of Tremel's lessons and you're his star student!" Anral took a deep breath before exhaling slowly as if the weight of multiple worlds rested upon his broad shoulders. He glanced round the cantina before answering and when he did so it was in a hushed voice.

"I'm in danger," he began ominously, Zanleya braced herself for bad news. She pursed her lips but said nothing, letting him continue. "I'm going to tell you this because you're one of the two people I trust. Have you ever had a force premonition?" He asked.

"No, although I have to admit I haven't gone looking for one," Zanleya answered. She had heard of them, force premonitions, sometimes simply called force visions were just that, glimpses of possible futures and events that had yet to come to pass. By and large the Jedi made greater use of them, not least because they often required careful meditation to receive and Sith were not exactly renowned for their ability to meditate peacefully. That being said, Zanleya was aware that Sith were still quite capable of them, she remembered reading about Darth Traya who had seen far into the future with such premonitions.

"I have, I keep having them," Anral said almost whispering, as if fearing the visions themselves would overhear him.

"What happens in them? What do you see?" She guessed that it was not going to be peace and happiness.

"It's all variations of the same thing. I see myself suffer, there is pain and loss, sometimes I die, sometimes I barely survive. There's a fight and I always lose," Anral replied bleakly, a note of desperation in his voice. "These premonitions have been haunting me for weeks now."

"Oh my! You think it's real, it's going to happen? I guess you don't know who causes it?" Zanleya asked in a flurry of concern, the notion of Anral dying shocking her.

"Yes, I'm sure it's real and no I don't know how it occurs. I think it happens here though, on Korriban."

"Oh Anral! That's bad, what can I do to help?" Zanleya asked, almost instinctively.

"I don't know Zan, I really don't know. It's so draining, they keep me up almost every night."

"Can't you just shut them off? I thought you only received force premonitions if you meditated?"

"It's not that simple, if only it were. But it's like the force is trying to tell me something, trying to warn me, something bad is coming. I've got to see the visions, even if I know it's driving me mad. They are the future… only if I can understand these visions can I hope to avoid whatever it is that's coming." Zanleya pursed her lips, this was far beyond her field of expertise. "I'm sure the visions are what will come to pass, but they keep changing, as if every decision I make subtly alters the future. I spoke to Overseer Loun and I stopped dying in the visions, but there was still suffering. Then I saw Harkun the other day and the contents of the premonitions worsened again." He looked directly into Zanleya's eyes with an almost despairing look, like a man who knew he walked before the firing squad at dawn. His distress hurt her, she could not help but feel sympathy for the only one she had dared call friend. The self-assured and almost regal pureblood now looked so haunted, hounded by these portents of doom.

"Have you spoken with Ragate? She knows a lot about this sort of thing," Zanleya suggested.

"I did, but she didn't really help. She told me what a gift it was to be able to receive visions at such a young age. Then she pretty much confirmed what I'd suspected… that these are all possible futures. But how do I avoid what I don't understand? I don't know who I'm fighting or what causes the pain and loss. I just know that it will happen unless I do something."

"Force premonitions can show you things that are decades away, what happens if this is far in the future?" Anral's brow creased.

"It's a possibility, but the intensity of them seems to suggest it's imminent. I must find out what they're trying to warn me of," he repeated almost obsessively.

"If there's anyone who can, it's you. You're one of the strongest acolytes in our group," Zanleya encouraged. A faint smile caressed Anral's face with its light touch.

"Thanks Zan, I only hope I can solve this before whatever disaster it is overtakes me," he said sombrely. Zanleya hoped so too, she hated seeing him so run down whilst feeling just as powerless to help him.

"Plus, you're strong in the force, you have a lightsaber and your prestigious parents, you'll come out on top in the end." A slightly more genuine smile appeared.

"Was there something you wanted to ask me?" Anral queried, "I'm sure you came here for a reason other than to hear my maudlin ramblings." Zanleya gave a wan smile and just shook her head. She could not bring herself to heap more problems upon him. Deep down she knew a Sith should not care about another's feelings, that she should seize every opportunity to strengthen her position. His problems were his own and not hers. But she valued Anral as far more than a resource to be exploited, he was the closest thing she had to a true companion and she would not do that to him. At least she now understood why he had been so distant the last few weeks.

"Honestly, it doesn't matter, plus I just wanted to check up on you. Anral…. If you need me, just ask, you don't have to face this alone," she said.

"Thank you Zan, that means a lot, I fear I may well need you before this is all over." Zanleya smiled, alliances were not just built on deals and blackmail but on goodwill and understanding. Perhaps once Anral was free of his burden he would be able to come to her aid, until then she was just going to have to make do without his assistance against Jensine. In the meantime, she would do her best to aid him.

"And I'll do what I can." Anral drew in a breath and nodded. "Oh say actually, there is something you might be able to help me with, nothing difficult mind you," Zanleya said, inspiration suddenly striking.

"Go on?" Anral perked up slightly, almost as if he was pleased he could distract himself with something useful.

"What do you know about Zarriar?" Zanleya asked.

"Odd question, what do you want with her?"

"Knowledge is power, just as much as power is power, right?" Zanleya quipped, reciting her master's favourite catch phrase. Anral managed a weak chuckle, it had become something of a private joke between the two of them, betting on how many times Kharvak would say the phrase in any given day.

"Well, not much to be honest. Let me see, I know she is a former slave from a planet called Nys, or it might have been Dyn, or Nyd I can't quite remember. Anyway, whatever the name is it's a backwater world somewhere, Imperial planet at least. Pretty sure I also heard her say something about being born a slave," Anral said, rubbing one of his facial tentacles.

"Oh yes, I remember her threatening to cremate Frendric a while back saying something along the lines of 'I still remember the smell of my slave master crisping, I bet you'll scream like him'," Zanleya recalled. Anral gave another chuckle.

"Guess she lost her chance to test that theory," he said giving her a wink.

"That she did. I suppose she must be able to cast force lightning, although I haven't seen her do it."

"That figures, I think she was picked up by a Lord Sarab who trained her briefly before bringing her here to join us. I guess that little lightning incident must have caught someone's attention," Anral said.

"Lord Sarab you say? Never heard of him," Zanleya said. "Did something happen to him? He's not her master now; Harkun would definitely have insulted her at some point if she already had a master."

"I don't know, can't say I've really paid that much attention to her. She just lurks around like an unwanted shadow, never saying much," Anral said, a hint of his haughtiness resurfacing. Zarriar, being a zabrak, was from one of the slave races and every now and then Anral's pureblood heritage showed. Zanleya made a mental note to look up Sarab though, she was sure there would be at least some information in the archives on him.

"I know right? It's partly why I wanted to ask you about her, to see if you knew any more than me," Zanleya said.

"I don't imagine I do. Oh, except that she absolutely hates Maren," Anral added. Zanleya raised an eyebrow, this could be very useful information indeed she realised.

"Oh?" It was not something she had picked up on.

"He is a bit of a dust-rat you've got to agree," Anral said with a faint smile.

"You won't catch me arguing," Zanleya said. She found Maren particularly obnoxious, he was always going out of his way to annoy people as if he was perpetually spoiling for a fight.

"But yeah, Zarriar hates his guts something fierce. Not quite sure what it was he said to annoy her so, maybe he just rubs her up the wrong way like the rest of us, but whatever it is she's got a serious vendetta against the man," Anral explained. "I imagine if it wasn't for the fact Maren spends ninety per cent of his time with Traz she would already have tried to stick a knife in him."

"Worth knowing I guess, still, I don't imagine hating Maren is a particularly unique trait!" Anral gave a proper laugh and Zanleya smiled. Perhaps she could not save him from his force premonitions she reasoned, but she could at least cheer him up for a little. It was not exactly the master move to securing a strong alliance and a lasting powerbase, but, small steps, she thought, it was never going to be easy. She stayed with him idly chatting until their next lesson, not about anything in particular nor with any goal in mind, just sharing a small window of calm in the storm that was Korriban and their respective futures.

"Remember young acolytes, it is blood that gives power to Sith alchemy. The blood is the life, by infusing properly attuned artefacts in vitae you infuse them with power. I shall explain more about the symbolism and uses of skulls drenched in blood tomorrow, but for now our time draws to a close. I still have much to teach you about alchemy but it must wait," Ragate lectured, her voice soft yet still filling the teaching chamber with the secrets of ancient Sith sorcery. The acolytes knelt in two rough semi-circles around her, all with crucibles in their laps.

Over the last few days it had quickly become apparent who favoured the path of the inquisitor and who preferred the path of the warrior. Zanleya sat in the front semi-circle with Änastasiä, Zarriar, Senli and Jandra. The other half of the group, Anral, Traz, Gremek, Maren and Zirik sat at the back in varying states of disinterest. Ragate gazed intently at the five acolytes sat directly before her and Zanleya guessed she was already weighing up which would be her protégée.

"If of course you choose the old and arcane ways over the simplistic and brutish path of the warrior," Ragate added, giving Traz a withering look. Zanleya wondered absentmindedly if Ragate's looks actually could kill, she would not put it past the lady to possess such an ability. "Which as I'm sure you are aware will be in three days' time." Zanleya raised an eyebrow, it had completely slipped her mind, what with the busyness of her lessons, her trip to see Gethen and the altercation in the dig site yesterday. Ragate was right though, it was primeday in three days' time and that would indeed be ten days, or two weeks, since Rance and Ragate had first spoken to them.

"Until then," Ragate said simply. The acolytes parted for her and she stalked past them, not with the powerful stride of Rance or the heavy footfalls of Kharvak, but the soft steps of an aged feline predator, still just as powerful and deadly.

"Thank goodness that's the end of that senile bat's ramblings," Maren muttered, but loud enough for everyone still present to hear.

"It would take that senile bat more time to do her hair than kill you," Senli remarked.

"Yeah, whatever slave scum," Maren shot back. "Come on Gremek, I was going to hit the training pits before this evening's lesson, you in? Work some of this alchemy nonsense out of my head." With that the acolytes began to disperse, Zanleya however remained.

"Zarriar," she started, once the others had almost all departed. The red skinned zabrak, almost always the last to leave, spun on the spot with the speed of a whip cracking and fixed Zanleya with a yellow eyed and hostile glare. "Can I have a word?" Änastasiä, the only other acolyte still present giggled.

"Oooh goodie! I bet I know what this is about! Oh it's all getting so exciting!" She cooed with glee. Zanleya rose to her feet with an expression of slight exasperation. "I'll leave you to it!" Änastasiä said with a grin before skipping away down the corridor. Zarriar said nothing, simply folded her grey robed arms and waited.

"So," Zanleya tried to start, but the speech she had rehearsed slipped out of her mind like a slimy slug-rat. Zarriar scowled some more. "Jensine," she said simply. "I… feel there could be mutual benefit in us working together."

"Of course you think that. You want help," Zarriar retorted bluntly. Zanleya bridled slightly at the harsh response, but perhaps it was just Zarriar's way of speaking, that she sounded like she was in a perpetually bad mood.

"For now, yes, but I can help you too," Zanleya replied carefully. Gethen's lessons were at the forefront of her mind, about bargaining from a position of power and at the very least as an equal. She did not want to come across as if she were begging for assistance.

"Funny you should say that, Jensine said almost exactly the same thing." Zanleya baulked in surprise.

"Jensine contacted you?" Zanleya said, fighting to keep the alarm out of her voice.

"…That's what I just said," Zarriar drawled scornfully.

"What did she say?" Zanleya asked, suddenly worried. She had not realised that Jensine had already begun trying to establish alliances, more to the point, if she had spoken to Zarriar… who else had she reached out to? She wondered with concern.

"She wanted to know about you, she wanted me to spy on you and be ready to take you down," Zarriar replied in a matter of fact voice.

"And you refused her," Zanleya stated, doing her best to keep herself composed, Zarriar just frowned.

"Of course I did! Stupid heartbroken acolyte, love is for weak idiots. Frendric got what was coming to him, I don't know how she couldn't see that he was a weak partner," Zarriar replied with vehemence. Zanleya breathed a mental sigh of relief, but outwardly just nodded as if that was exactly what she would have expected her to say.

"And then what?"

"She tried to persuade me to change my mind, said how she was an up and coming Sith Lord and that I would be 'richly rewarded' in the future," Zarriar answered, her words dripping with scorn and sarcasm. "I wouldn't give it any longer than a month before she's nothing but tuk'ata feed. If you don't kill her somebody else will," Zarriar predicted.

"Oh it'll be me," Zanleya vowed.

"Then why do you need me?" Zarriar queried with the force of a riposte. "If you're so confident."

"To expedite matters and balance the odds should she decide to bring hangers on," Zanleya responded evenly. She had known it would be a gamble trying to get the silent and reclusive zabrak on her side, but she had to start somewhere. She did not imagine anybody else in her group would help her, bar Anral and he was indisposed at the moment. Zarriar had not made any overtly hostile remarks toward her of late, so she reckoned she stood a chance, it was a low bar to pass to be sure, but one most of the rest of her group failed to clear.

Her chat with Anral had helped her find out a bit more about the solitary zabrak and she had since done her research. Lord Sarab only had a brief entry in the archives; he had clearly picked Zarriar up and trained her for half a year, based on the dates, before dumping her on Korriban. He had subsequently been killed in a battle against the Republic, the archives made no other mention of Zarriar so she doubted that he had intended to take her on as his apprentice. So, whilst she had undergone basic training, Zanleya expected that the zabrak was more or less in the same position as the rest of them… which did indeed make her roughly an equal. Of course, Zanleya imagined Zarriar did not possess such a knowledge of ancient Sith history and philosophy as she did, that was Kharvak's doing, but on the other hand it was clear that she was a potent force user. It was also entirely possible she possessed greater skills than she let on, the only time Zanleya had seen her fight had been in the duelling pits where she had given as good as she had got.

"And what do I gain? For putting myself in the firing line?" Zarriar asked.

"An alliance with me, I will repay you. Let's say if you, hypothetically, wanted to kill a certain acolyte in our group I could help you with that, ensure that your back was watched and that if push came to shove you would have someone to help you even the odds against any… fallout," Zanleya said with a sly smile. She meant Maren and they both knew it, dealing with Traz would of course be the inevitable problem if either of them were to hurt or kill their obnoxious peer. Zarriar narrowed her eyes, the only movement she had made since the start of their conversation.

"An interesting proposition, this 'hypothetical situation'," Zarriar said, emphasising the last couple of words. "So I take your word that you will come to my aid in this theoretical scenario where I need help?" Zarriar said. Zanleya had to admit when it was phrased like that it did not sound quite so enticing, but she was relying on Zarriar's hatred of Maren to persuade her.

"Yes, I keep my word. No Sith can make it alone, not these days at least. Everyone needs allies of some kind, even you," Zanleya said. Zarriar scowled, the black tattoos across her face creasing.

"Some of us don't run into trouble at the rate you do," Zarriar shot back, Zanleya just shrugged.

"I'm sure it'll happen to you soon, you just haven't killed any fellow acolytes yet," Zanleya said, although emphasising the word 'yet'. She did not want to antagonise Zarriar, but at the same time she knew she had to keep up the front that she herself was a powerful individual and one worthy of allying with. Rather than come across as an isolated acolyte seeking help against a vengeful adversary who may have already gathered supporters to her side, even if the latter was closer to the truth.

"I've ended the miserable lives of far more bandits and looters than you," Zarriar retorted.

"Forceless worms, too far below us to matter. I'm talking about helping you against a much more powerful foe, one with the force and formidable friends," Zanleya said. Zarriar just grunted.

"Someone does need to stick a blade between Maren's ribs," Zarriar conceded after a long pause.

"Exactly! And if you do us the honour of ridding the Academy of him, I will be there to help you deal with any fallout. If, of course, you are willing to assist me in turn."

"Alright then, deal. What do you want me to do? I'm not fighting Jensine for you," Zarriar said. Zanleya allowed herself a half-smile. The conversation had not quite gone as she had planned but it had achieved the desired result nonetheless.

"Watch my back and let me know if you see anything," Zanleya replied.

"That's it?" Zarriar queried.

"For now, I just want you to look out for me and I'll do the same for you. I will let you know if and when I need any other assistance."

"That I can do," Zarriar assented.

"Basically I need another pair of eyes. Jensine is certain to try some cowardly trick and I've got to be ready for it, as I'm sure in a straight fight I could take her and I reckon she probably knows that," Zanleya said, she was partly bluffing about the latter point. In all honestly she had no idea who would come out on top if the two of them were to walk into a room together, but she had to back herself. "If you spot people spying on me, or her snooping around, let me know," Zanleya explained.

"Consider it covered," Zarriar stated simply. "You better uphold your end of the deal, or there'll be a debt to pay…" she warned.

"You have my word."

"Don't think this makes us friends though. I'm doing this because I think you can help me and because I don't mind seeing that arrogant and heartbroken brat murdered," Zarriar stated. Zanleya's smile lost its warmth.

"Understood," she said simply.

"Good and I don't want to hear about your tragic past or your sob story either. This alliance is to help us both eliminate our rivals then achieve greatness and power and nothing more."

"Oh I assure you, I shall have both of those," Zanleya vowed, her smile reappearing although in its more sinister form. Zarriar said nothing more, simply turned and strode from the room. Zanleya watched her go thoughtfully, so far so good, she mused. If she was being honest with herself, she had known all along that Zarriar was never going to happily jump at the idea of teaming up nor had she entertained the notion that they would become the best of friends. Nevertheless, it was a victory she told herself, so long as Zarriar upheld her end then she could sleep just that little bit more easily. That being said, she was still slightly unnerved by the fact that Jensine was already busy trying to recruit other acolytes against her. If it came to a pitched battle then she was not sure if Zarriar alone would be enough to balance the odds, certainly not if Traz, Maren and Gremek all sided with Jensine. Still, she knew that this was as far as she could go for the moment, in all likelihood it would be hazardous to try and ask anyone else to help her, certainly from her group, as they might just double-cross her.

"One thing at a time, one thing at a time," she muttered to herself. She had made good progress today, whilst she still knew very little about Zarriar, she had the feeling that she could trust her to watch her back for now and that was definitely something. As for dealing with Jensine, she had the beginnings of a plan…