Pausing his paperwork for a moment, Angouss pushed the button opening the door to his office. "Enter, acolyte. I will be with you shortly."
Rhythmical, measured steps resounded on the metal floor in reply, followed by the shadow of a tall, lean female figure being cast over the overseer and his datapad.
He didn't need to guess who it was. The Chiss, aside from being the tallest of his female pupils, had an unmistakable Force presence; its still, calm facade belied the depths of frigid hatred lying beneath.
A wonder to behold, even if a bit too cold to suit a Sith.
Typing the few last words of the report he was working on, Angouss finally put his datapad away. "Thank you for your patience." He met the woman's neutral expression with a genial smile. "Duties of the office, I'm afraid. The Academy expects me to fill my commentaries on dead and missing adepts as soon as possible."
He considered adding a quip about the alien increasing his workload, but decided against it; the provocation couldn't be too obvious.
"It is no problem, sir." The woman's reply was short but pleasant… and void of even a shred of emotion regarding the blood on her hands; as was her presence in the Force.
Such a… lacking reaction. Where was the self-loathing and guilt of lost innocence, so easy to turn into burning rage?! The fires of indignation at being attacked?! The pride and joy at having taken another's life?!
Angouss cleared his throat, schooling his expression. He got a bit carried away. "Thank you for your understanding. I presume you've arrived to give me a piece of most pleasing news."
"It is so, overseer." The alien replied with a polite nod. "My task was fulfilled, and the extermination team that entered after my survey reported no casualties."
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "You have stayed to witness the fruits of your labor?"
"Was I wrong to?" The Chiss answered with a question of her own.
"Oh, of course not." Angouss replied with a light chuckle. "Taking pride in your deeds is not something I wish to denounce. On the contrary; it is important to appreciate one's work. Especially when others also do." Saying that, he retrieved a hundred credits chip from his desk. "A token of gratitude from the garrison's higher ups; by trapping the terentatek behind a layer of durasteel, to be effortlessly shot off, you saved a lot of expensive equipment they have already written off as inevitable collateral. Saving the soldiers' lives also counted for something, I suppose."
The slight smile the Chiss sported as she reached for the money reminded Angouss of a well fed Nexu he saw once in the Kaas City's zoo. "I am glad to have been of service." After a short pause, she continued, pulling at her stained, dust-covered robes. "If that is all sir, could you grant me the clearance to the Academy's facilities? The guards were adamant about me not being able to use them without it."
"Certainly." Angouss affirmed with a humm. "Although I must warn you, access to the library and training halls will be given only after a customary sendoff, once all surviving acolytes are present at the Academy - a measure placed in order to keep the competition between the adepts fair."
This was of course a blatant lie; the policy's real goal was anything but fairness. It was a way to ensure the noble students with access to training tools from outside the Academy received the biggest possible advantage.
"Understood." The woman nodded. "Then, by your leave."
"Just a moment, acolyte." Angouss stopped her. "One of your benefactors wished to inquire about your preferred dignity; I'm afraid your full Chiss name 'Gern'exi'aeze' present in the files is too much of a mouthful to him." Another lie, spun to indulge in the overseer's passion of curiosity. "Which one should I send: Nexia... or Tanya?"
He would have missed it if he wasn't looking for it - for just a split-second, the Chiss's Force presence stirred, impressions of the name appearing as quickly as they faded; the marching of boots, the burning cities, a maniacal laughter echoing through a ravaged landscape, accompanied by a rain of fire, blood and entrails…
…And the screams of the dying calling out a single name: The Devil of the Rhine.
How exquisite~
The Chiss, having recovered from her brief moment of shock, turned back toward the overseer with narrowed eyes. "Tanya would be preferable."
He matched her stare with his own; he now knew what he had to do. "Ah, but I'm afraid it isn't in your documentation - it can't be used in official capacity. We shall settle on Nexia then."
His piece said, Angouss dismissed the acolyte with a gesture, reclining in his chair as he watched her leave. Once alone, he began fiddling with his datapad, again replaying the recording from the slave shuttle's security feed.
Was the name the Chiss chose for herself aboard the craft one of her people's mythology? Something more personal? Either way, it was no mere moniker; it was a symbol of power, not unlike the title of Darth.
And just like the title of Darth, it was not something to simply grant oneself; not without it being challenged.
Thus, it would be Angouss's duty to deny the alien her chosen name at every opportunity. Only when she brings him down to his knees, will he acknowledge it.
Because when she does, it will be no longer as a mere acolyte; but as a Sith.
And should his challenge remain unanswered, a contingency plan would be put into motion. Kurov's death proved of no consequence to the woman. Soon, Angouss would see if her fellow adepts shared her mindset.
=(×)=
Stepping out of the Academy's sonic shower with a roll of her sore shoulders, Tanya began to stretch. She had to admit, the thing, however sci-fi, was a pale imitation of its water-reliant counterpart; though she understood why the economic forces made it non-viable for the dry hellscape that was Korriban. Demand for the relative luxury of hygienic-use water was simply outweighed by the cost of getting it onto the dustbowl in sufficient quantities.
Besides, after four days of marinating in dust and sweat, she was beyond the point of caring. As long as it kept her clean, she had no ground to complain. Which she couldn't say about many of the other elements of the Academy. Starting with its Force presence.
It was thick with fear, hate, sorrow and bloodlust, so overbearing in intensity it made Tanya's journey through its halls feel like she was trudging through a swamp.
To her misfortune, the people she was forced to walk beside only contributed further to this already miserable experience.
The forcefully conscripted like her were the least of her problems. Those meekly shuffled along, their only addition to the oppressive ambience being an occasional pitiful whimper. No, her real issue was with the second, far more noticeable kind of adepts: nobles and volunteers who genuinely believed being Sith was something they wanted to do with their lives. To them, the Academy's hallways were an ideal place to engage in bullying and other petty power games, making commuting through them more difficult than it needed to be.
And speaking of petty power games, the overseer's issue with her chosen name left Tanya wondering what exactly was his angle.
Was he asserting his dominance? She doubted the man was the kind to care about this sort of thing; otherwise the Houk wouldn't have lived through his mouth-off. At least not without experiencing Sith's cruelty first hand.
A warning to avoid discrepancy perhaps? It made a bit more sense. If Tanya started introducing herself around the Academy by a name that existed in no official records, it could potentially lead to trouble for the man responsible for handling them.
Yes, that she could understand, even sympathize with. Didn't mean she'd give up the name Tanya; at least outside of her official dealings.
Nexia was a girl who worked for her father fixing mining equipment, saving up for the day she would have enough money to escape from the Empire and the coming conflict.
That day never came. Instead, she was forcefully thrust towards a path she walked once before; fighting a war she wanted nothing to do with, her every effort to eke out a bit of personal peace to be thwarted by some filth of a 'higher power'.
Tanya refused to participate in such a rehash. It was part of why she had chosen her old name. A message to Being X, the Force, or any other louse that would try to deny what was rightfully hers.
This time, this life, she will get her peace.
She will make sure of it.
=(×)=
Tanya entered her dormitory's common room with a bit more force than was necessary. Her ruminations put her in a somewhat sour mood, adding to the apprehension she already felt by just remaining within the Academy.
Not even the feeling of freshly pressed fabric on her skin courtesy of her new set of robes was enough to take away even a tiny bit from the tension.
She wasn't the only member of her group present; the Kaleesh and the Pureblood were already there, presumably having reached the Academy some time before her. The former kept himself busy playing some alien form of solitaire with a weathered set of cards, while the latter trained with a hovering sphere erratically zipping around, occasionally shooting a thin blaster bolt for the Pureblood to intercept.
So much for keeping things fair.
Not that she expected any different. Even the Germanian Empire, a nation far more meritocratic than its Sith namesake, made considerable concessions towards their nobility.
She didn't hold the alien's advantages against her. If Tanya was in her place, she likewise would have abused them to hell and back. However, she wasn't in such a position, which meant eating the dust of her competition from the starting line.
Just like in highschool. Or the Imperial Academy.
At least this time she wasn't running up against geniuses. Or at least she hoped she wasn't. Her shortcomings were purely due to the academic head start of others, and not her intellectual or… biological deficiencies.
The latter was a not-so-small mercy. Tanya was honest enough with herself to admit to having missed the ability to physically look down on people without having to fly.
Lost in thought, she had let her eyes linger too long; earning the Pureblood's contemptuous glare. "I was under the impression you Chiss were one of the few half-way civilized alien species. Surely your parents taught you it is considered rude to gawk?"
"Apologies." Tanya replied flatly. Perhaps not the most courteous response, but she didn't care for politeness towards a person who would sooner or later try to kill her. She had nothing to gain by trying to keep things civil between her and the obviously confrontational woman.
Case in point, the Pureblood, unsatisfied with her response, immediately turned to violence; deflecting her ball's next shot straight at Tanya's face, forcing her to move her head to the side to avoid it. "Don't you dare dismiss me." She huffed, the false calmness of her words betrayed by the twitch of her brow's spur.
"Dismiss you? I did no such thing." Tanya kept her tone even, resisting the urge to chew the alien off. In hindsight, she shouldn't have; her restraint wouldn't find appreciation. "I merely value our time," hers far more than the Pureblood's, "not wishing to waste it on pointless, elaborate gestures of remorse. It would be better spent on training." She finished with a poignant look at the hovering orb.
The stuck up woman of course missed the entire point of her words. "Do you truly take such an issue with my little toy? I was trained in the ways of the Sith since I could walk; what little time I'll spend with it is but a single drop in the ocean between us."
"If you are so superior," Tanya bit back, "how come your task was to retrieve some trinket from Ajunta Pal's tomb, a place that, in the overseer's words, was 'explored and plundered over a thousand times over'? Surely someone of your skill was worthy of something more challenging?"
"Shows how little you know." The Pureblood replied with an insufferable smirk. "The tomb of the first of the Sith Lords is seeped in the power of the Dark Side; lesser minds like yours would have been crushed merely by stepping into its threshold. To enter it was the privilege of my bloodline and its power. As is this thing." She gestured towards the training blaster orb.
"Privilege. An apt summary." The Kaleesh joined in, putting away his cards. "That's all you highborn know. You never knew adversity; never crossed swords with a foe truly wishing you harm; never stared death in the eye. Hot air and delusions of superiority, that is the essence of Sith high society; one you embody well."
Tanya had to give it to the bone-mask; his words managed to make the Pureblood look redder than she already was. She turned to him with a snarl, all pretense of civility entirely forgotten. "I've killed a dozen assassins and rebelling servants before I turned ten! Adversity is the life of aSith; one you will not live long enough to leave Korriban to see!" She took a deep breath, somewhat calming down. "Now, if you excuse me, I've wasted enough time on your miserable lot." She growled, turning back to the ball, giving them both the silent treatment.
Tanya couldn't help but roll her eyes. Putting an end to the discussion before it started was exactly what she argued for! But of course the Pureblood had to ignore it, trying to get in the last word, wasting more time in the process.
Maybe out of some cosmic sense of justice, the Kaleesh didn't let the noble end on her terms either. "I already know more than enough about the life you speak of; I myself was once an assassin for one of the inbred pits of maggots you call 'bloodlines'. And should we cross blades at any point in the future, you would discover I am nothing like the amateurs your daddy sent to inflate your ego."
His words seemed to have no effect, barring the deepening of the red-skinned alien's snarl.
Seeing that the pointless verbal jousting was finished, Tanya was finally able to proceed with her own training.
Unlike the immature Sith, she didn't have access to any of the sophisticated equipment. She'd have to make do with a small palm-sized weight laying in her pocket - a common rock really, one she picked up in the desert.
Settling down on one of the benches, she turned her mind to the feat of telekinesis she performed in the tomb.
It… made her afraid, as unwilling as she was to admit it. The mental condition under which she managed it reminded her too much of the loss of control that came with using Schugel's cursed 'miracle' machine.
The Force having a will was enough for her to not trust it. If it also required, or worse yet, caused, such a compromising mental state, she'd want nothing to do with it.
The fact that It seemed to be useful only for combat, and actively sought to be used for it in order to retain 'balance', certainly didn't help matters. The Force sought conflict. As a peace loving individual, she should have denounced it on principle.
Problem was, principles, however noble, won't keep her alive. The Great War had already proven to Tanya that in the cost-benefit evaluations between her worldview and survival, survival won every time.
The result of this equation made an image of her, a firm believer in pacifistic ideals, wielding a magically-enhanced shovel the last sight for many a Francois trench denizen. However loath she was to do it, she was willing to compromise on her principles when necessity demanded it.
With her mind made up, Tanya got to it, outstretching her hand towards the rock while concentrating on it. Just like she remembered doing with the door, she refused the reality of the stone remaining down on the ground, suggesting being up in the air as a preferable alternative. To make the transition easier, she also provided a few vectors and equations regarding thrust and applied kinetic force in general.
The thing didn't budge, much to her chagrin.
Her actions hadn't gone without a response however. Within the Force, Tanya could feel something, or rather somethings, trying to creep into her mind, almost making her recoil in disgust.
The more forceful of the two was easy enough to identify; a putrid, shriveled tendril of Korriban's presence, trying to worm in under the promise of power.
The other thing was far more gentle - along with being infinitely more massive. It gave rise to impressions of the stone within the Force, urging her to feel it as opposed to merely perceiving it.
Suddenly feeling kind and fatherly, Being X? Tanya thought with a grimace. Be it him or the Force, both could choke on it. She'll do it her way, or no way.
For the next half hour, her efforts squarely landed on 'no way'. All she got from them were the impressions of two powers at the back of her head.
She grew to hate it.
She hated everything about this planet.
She hated everything about its people.
She hated everything about the quasi-religion they forced her to participate in.
She hated everything about the Force responsible for giving rise to it.
Eventually, all reason for the hate eroded, leaving only the feeling itself behind.
And after a time, this directionless hate too was stripped bare, losing all emotional connotations, and becoming nothing more than pure force to drive her forward. Spite in its distilled form, potent enough to outlast the stars.
This utter loathing shot out as lightning from her outstretched hand, shattering the stone and making her arm spasm as thunder raced through its nerves.
She should have panicked at the sudden outburst of electricity; screamed at the pain coursing through her body.
Yet she did nothing; felt nothing.
For there was nothing.
Only her will.
=(×)=
And then there was a whole lot of pain.
Once whatever high she was on subsided, her body reminded her that running high voltage through one's arm was not very healthy.
The medical droid of the Academy's ward agreed. It refused to treat her damaged nerves under anesthesia, letting Tanya experience the full pain of a kolto injection as the biochemical cocktail worked to undo what she did to herself.
A policy of pain that, in the words of the rustbucket, 'taught adepts to be more careful when experimenting with force lightning'.
She didn't embarrass herself with excuses of ignorance. They would only serve to make her look more pathetic. Besides, it's not like the droid would care. It performed a specific function, and wouldn't care for anything outside of it, including the choices that led her to being in its care.
Instead, Tanya took the painful lesson the teacher called experience gave her to heart. She was playing with fire, and she better learn how to handle it safely, lest she got burned.
Literally and possibly fatally.
On the upside, even though it had proven detrimental in its own way, the mental state she experienced was nothing like the loss of personality associated with using Type 95. In fact, Tanya could say it was quite the opposite. She felt driven like never before to defy everything that would try to make her bow.
How this translated to her shooting lightning out of her hands, she had no idea. It was something to investigate… after she got the clearance to the library. She had already spent enough time in the medical ward; she got to leave only after two hour long, pain-filled treatment, under the promise she won't exert her arm too much in the immediate future.
Fine by her. She didn't plan to do anything taxing for however long was left until the rest of the acolytes arrived anyway.
The first of them came, or rather limped, to the Academy in the evening of the same day. It was Saredin, the Republic soldier, whose left leg presented an image of torn sinew and bone barely held together by makeshift bandaging. The limb was beyond saving; when the woman finally exited the facilities, its place was taken by the cold metal of a cheap-looking prosthetic.
A result of a k'lor'slug ambush, the woman told Tanya. Good thing she never encountered them then.
The next to show up was the human male. On the dawn of the fifth day, he furiously stormed into the common room, breaking Tanya's concentration while she was perfecting her techniques for warding off outside Force entities. Unlike Saredin, he didn't look to be injured, barring a few bruises on his exposed arms and legs.
The Houk, who showed up around half a day later, was an entirely different story.
The almost three meter tall alien lumbered in, his upper robes utterly destroyed. His torso was a mosaic of cuts and branching lightning burns. The gigantic sword he carried had his edge chipped in numerous places, and was covered in dried-out blood up to the hilt.
The human man fumed at his sight. "You should have been dead!"
"Awww, you missed me, didn't'cha lover boy?" The giant alien laughed. "You should've worked on your aim; A cross-eyed pup is better at throwing rocks than you." He continued in a much more sinister tone, pointing at three giant bruises on his right arm.
"I collapsed an entire section of the tomb on you!"
"And ya made my job easier for it." The giant mocked. "Huntin' down the failed sithlings camping out in ol' Ludo Kresh's basement would have been far harder without their escape route closed off. So thanks fo' that."
The man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just… just get out of my sight, beast."
The Houk treated him to some very vulgar gestures in response. "And fuck you too, wimp." Saying that, he retreated to the medical ward.
As soon as he returned, now wearing a fresh set of robes, every datapad belonging to members of Tanya's group rang out with a priority message. The overseer called them to his office.
=(×)=
"Acolytes, with the passing of your first trial, it is my great pleasure to proclaim each and every one of you a full member of our prestigious Academy." The overseer's jovial tone echoed through his office. "From this day onward, its secrets are yours to peruse. It will be your duty to learn from them; As I am merely your examiner, it will be up to you to find yourself worthy teachers, or become them."
"Guess the horned pansy didn't make it, huh?" The Houk grunted out. "Figured as much."
Their taskmaster frowned slightly. "I am afraid our late blue friend, along with his two newfound companions, had a fatal encounter with a like-colored adept." The man said, giving Tanya a meaningful look.
The utter bastard! Now everyone's eyes were on her!
The Pureblood was wary; the Kaleesh curious; Saredin incredulous; the Human dismissive; and the Houk indifferent. Lovely.
The Republic soldier was first to speak up. "Tanya, the fuck?! Why would you do that?"
"Ah, I'm afraid you are mistaken, miss Saredin; your Chiss colleague's name is not Tanya, but Nexia." The overseer corrected, giving Tanya a beaming smile when she shot a glare at him. Was he really that much of a stickler?
"Tanya is how I prefer to be addressed outside of official dealings." She clarified, hissing through her teeth toward the paper-pusher. "And yes, I did kill the Chagrian in self-defense. He and his two crooks posing as stowaways tried ambushing me during the first night after we landed."
"You should be proud of your kill, not excuse it." The human man said coldly. "To do otherwise speaks… poorly of you."
She didn't care how it spoke of her. She just wanted to avoid being ganged on by other adepts at the first opportunity.
"The man I saw flying down with us was fidgeting like a leaf in the wind. Had he really the strength of character necessary to attack unprovoked? Or does the Chiss lie?" The Kaleesh addressed the question not towards her, but the overseer, who on his part refused to elaborate.
The prick. He was enjoying this!
"Does it matter?" The Pureblood shrugged. "He is dead and we are not, what else is there that needs clarifying?"
"As expected of Your Haughtiness." The bone-mask hissed with disgust. "You do not understand what a threat an unpredictable element like her could pose. You saw what she did with the Force, didn't you?" He continued as if Tanya wasn't there, listening.
"You moron, we are all 'unpredictable threats' to each other!" The Houk's shouting nearly deafened Tanya with how powerful it was. "We're on fucking Korriban! The planet of madness! Even if things were all hunky-dory between us, the cursed rock could drive each of us into being no more than rabid kath-hounds! Besides, if the pansy really did grow the balls to try and kill any of us, the Chiss here was his only real target. Uh, no offense," he added with a placating gesture.
Tanya raised an eyebrow; she didn't expect something like this from the crass alien.
The overseer finally stepped in, calming down the crowd. "Easy now, acolytes. As Lady Saksha said, the truth of the matter is, Kurov is dead. W-"
"Who?" The Houk asked.
"The Chagrian." For no more than a second, in the old man's tone the facade of grandfatherly kindness peeled back; revealing the depths of deathly cold beneath. But just as quickly, it came back. "What I wanted to say was that we cannot bring back the dead. But we can learn from their passing. It will be up to you what lessons you will take out of it. Dismissed."
Tanya didn't like the looks the two joiners gave her as they left the office. She had to act quickly. Turning towards the fellow ex-slaves, she opened her mouth to speak.
"I have a proposition for you, one that could benefit us all." She started. "A ceasefire between those who lost their freedom to the Empire, one that would last until we eliminate the members of its privileged strata."
To win others over in such situations, it was important to establish early who the parties involved will be uniting against, as well as a sense of commonality. On that front, Tanya thought she did pretty good.
"An… interesting choice of words, ceasefire." The Kaleesh admitted hesitantly. "It implies that the first shot was already taken."
"Yes." Tanya nodded. "By the Chagrian. My proposal was made as a way to avoid the repeat of his folly."
"Slow down, Tanya." Saredin grunted. "Are you… threatening us?"
Do not hesitate, Tanya reminded herself. In negotiations, it was worse than death. "By no means." She said calmly. "I merely express concern towards the lives of potential allies being lost fighting a threat that wasn't there. I held no ill will towards Kurov; had he left me alone, he would be here with us.
"Strong word, allies." The Houk hummed. "Doesn't 'ceasefire' usually mean a pause in beating the shit out of each other? Little violent for allies, don't'cha think?"
"A figure of speech." Tanya admitted. "And I don't want to propose anything more; not when the Sith may require us to kill one another as part of some twisted test. I do not presume any of us putting their life and freedom before an agreement in such a situation. You yourself professed ambition to 'snap us in two, break a Sith's neck, and escape to the Rim', didn't you?"
"And I ain't one bit sorry for it!" The Houk laughed. "But I get your point. The little snot-nosed brat chased me all the way to the tomb of my trial. Awfully persistent bugger. So you know what? I'm in! This way I can watch out for him without worrying about being shanked in the back."
"It would make sleeping easier, if nothing else." Saredin joined in. "Fighting a two front war is already hard enough. Nevermind five. I won't go out of my way to hurt any of you."
"So be it, Chiss." The Kaleesh relented. "I too will join your ceasefire; if only because it will let me focus on teaching the highborn louse a lesson."
Tanya smiled. To be united by hatred is a fragile alliance at best, she thought.
But it was a start.