I nervously brushed my gloved hands over my robes, feeling the way the shimmersilk glided under my fingers. This was the nicest clothing I'd ever worn in my life, and I didn't want a single stray hair to mar its shining surface. I'd had three fittings for this outfit, as Darth Zash had insisted everything be perfect for the formal ceremony that evening. I was to be proclaimed her heir and formally recognized as the heir to Lord Kallig of old. My master was throwing a huge party and had invited many Darths and Lords and their apprentices, and just thinking of all of the eyes on me made my mouth dry and my stomach churn. My robes bore Darth Zash's crest on my arms, directly over where a pauldron might rest. Over my heart, intricately embroidered and set with semi-precious stones, was the symbol of Darth Kallig, an all-seeing eye that I remembered from my time in the Dark Temple.
There had been a large ceremony when I had been declared her official apprentice last month, of course, but it had been a joint affair with two other Lords whose official apprentices were broad-shoulder human males. I had looked positively tiny next to their hulking figures, Khem ever lurking behind me. As the apprentice to a Darth, I had taken the oaths of service to my master last. She had stared hungrily down at me as I knelt before her, and I felt the heat from her blade almost singeing the fur around my face. As was tradition, I had taken my oaths of loyalty to the Emperor, to the Sith Order, and to the Dark Side, not my master. Everyone knew and acknowledged the reality that treachery was the Sith way, and that weakness on my master's part invited, obligated even, me to attempt to usurp her.
After I'd returned from the Dark Temple over two months ago, things had been different. Darth Zash had eagerly accepted the locked artefact from my hands and secreted it away in her new chambers at the Sith Citadel. She had insisted upon hearing every detail of my journey and oohed and aahed at all the right places. She had smugly revelled in the accuracy of her vision and marveled that I, a Cathar slave-turned-Sith-apprentice from Korriban, was actually the descendent of an ancient and powerful Sith Lord. And she rewarded the risks I had taken to acquire her artefact.
She had arranged for me to have my long-awaited private apartment, as was customary for apprentices on Drommund Kaas, with steward droids from her own household to take care of my needs. Khem and I had settled in nicely, and while I was still expected to attend many lessons each day, I was afforded opportunities for additional luxuries, as Darth Zash seemed to want to make sure I understood that my fortunes were tied to her fortunes, my triumphs to her triumphs. She still seemed to exercise an unusual amount of oversight over my day-to-day activities when compared to my fellow apprentices with whom I shared the apartment building.
The more obliging, the more helpful Darth Zash became, the more unsettled I felt. Altruism was not the way of the Sith, and yet she seemed to be eagerly setting me up for every success. She repeatedly gloated about the marvelous future we had, reassuring me that I was essential to whatever destiny she had forseen. She had aggressively pursued naming me Kallig, which although it certainly raised her prestige, did much more for my own status than hers. I was about to be named her full heir, a process that meant I would practically be her child-everything she owned, all of her assets, her responsibilities, even her apprentices, would come to me upon her death. I couldn't see a single benefit for her, aside from the mysterious goal she was pursuing, which she still refused to tell me the details of.
No, in spite of her cheerful, helpful demeanor, I'd seen enough glimpses of other aspects of her personality to know that she was a very dangerous woman. The detail she put into her planning, the effortless way I'd seen her kill-I was uncomfortably aware that the moment I ceased to be useful to her, the moment she achieved whatever glory we were seeking, the moment I completed whatever it was that she needed me for, she would try to kill me herself, or have me removed in an unexpected attack, rather than risk the danger I posed.
My changed relationship with Khem Val provided much security for my future. His perpetual disdain and impatience had vanished entirely, and while his level of protection hadn't changed, attesting to how seriously he'd taken his honor previously, the snide comments had been replaced with instruction. He still spoke incessantly of the great sith of old, but it was always with the explicit or implicit implication that it was to help me become like them. His malice had turned outwards, against the rest of the world, and I hadn't realized how much I had feared him until I could release it. A tension that I hadn't realized existed was lifted from my back, and my nightmares greatly subsided. I had always struggled to use my terror of him to increase my grasp on the Dark Side, so having that relief allowed me to focus on more consistent sources of power, like my hunger for strength, or my perpetual insecurities among the educated, elegant sith around me.
"Apprentice!" My master glided into the room, resplendent in her elegant robes of gold shimmersilk that matched my own. On her breast, she wore her own crest, and on her shoulders, the crest of Darth Thanaton, her direct superior within the elaborate hierarchy of the Sith. "How wonderful you look!" She embraced me delicately, sweeping in and back away from me in a cloud of sweet floral perfume that made my nose itch, although I knew better than to show my discomfort. An attendant from the club we were at had followed her inside with a medium-sized box.
"I have something for you," said Darth Zash. She opened the box to reveal Lord Kallig's mask, polished and burnished to perfection, although interestingly, the long nick in the side of the cheek had been left unrepaired. Perhaps she didn't want anyone to forget the history of the item. "I had it reset and resized to fit you!" she beamed. "Try it on! I want to see you wear it."
I accepted the helmet from her and examined it. A series of clasps allowed me to easily detach the mask and place the head covering over my fur; my ears slid into the soft foam perfectly, and I realized that she'd had a complete acoustic system added, allowing me to hear everything effortlessly while providing protection from sonic attacks and unexpectedly loud sounds. The neck guard was made of thin metal panels that molded to my neck, reminding me uncomfortably of the slave collar I used to wear not that long ago. I buried my unease before my master could sense my weakness.
Once comfortable in the helm, I held up the mask and looked at it for a long moment. It was mostly made of various dark, dull metals, but the ridges around the gaping skull's grin were polished to a shine. I got a vicious sense of glee when I imagined myself, a mysterious figure, emerging out of the darkness-the terrifying leer would be the first detail anyone would make out. Inside the mask, the lenses had been replaced, and a new voice and filtration system had been fitted into the mouth. I took a deep, anticipatory breath, and carefully placed the mask over my face, feeling the magnetic seals engage. My first breath of air was silent, but strange. After a moment, I realized I could no longer smell the subtle scents that I usually ignored on the air. I felt strangely vulnerable.
"Magnificent," breathed Darth Zash, her favorite word to use in regards to me. "You will wear this tonight, and I want you to continue wearing it when you're out among the Sith," she ordered. "It lends you such an air of power and mystery! I want everyone to recognize you as the heir to Kallig and give you the respect that you deserve."
"As you wish," I said, bowing my head. I was a little startled by the mechanical echo to my words; modulation of my voice was something that had to have been added specifically, since many masks did not have that feature. Darth Zash smiled proudly.
"Now come, apprentice," she said. I fell into step beside her. Behind me, like a silent, menacing shadow, Khem Val followed. The club attendant opened the double doors in the wall with a press of a button, revealing a dais in a vast, dimly lit room that was lit with spotlights and packed with onlookers.
"They're waiting for us."
~The End~
A/N: Thank you for joining me on this journey through Dromund Kaas with the Sith Inquisitor! There will be a hiatus in her story as I pursue writing the story of the Imperial Agent next, but expect a short collaboration in the next couple of months which will recall the events of the Black Talon Flashpoint. Until then... :)