Chapter Text
Sylvia breathed in with difficulty, trying to somehow gather her strength and fight back. Either she would defeat her opponent, or they would dispose of her like trash. But her enemy was a pure-blooded Sith, whose eyes glowed with a dark flame of contempt for her, a scum who had managed to be born within the Sith Empire and possess the rudiments of perceiving the Force. Her body did not obey, it was as if it were alien. She did not take her eyes off the enemy, wondering what he would do in the next second. The main thing was not to listen to the cries of the other students, eager to get rid of the weak. One continuous food chain, not an academy. Here, the strongest survived, ready to walk over corpses to achieve their own goals. Sylvia was surprised by only one thing - her own survivability. She rarely won the fights, but she managed to drag out the fight so much that even her mentor got tired of it and left her alive for some time.
The Force blast sent her flying back against the wall, slightly closer to the other apprentice candidates. She glanced quickly at her mentor. She was watching the sparring with indifference. She had her own orders.
"Seth, stop fooling around, just kill her and be done with it!"
The other students were tired of waiting, they wanted to see the result and realize that Sylvia had already been disposed of. They had to show their strength and ruthlessness towards others if they wanted to take their place in Sith society.
Sylvia cast a hunted glance at her opponent, wondering what she could do. The Force told her that either she would throw away everything relatively good in her and finally begin to fight for her life, or there would be no tomorrow for her. On the one hand, the latter option had one such big plus: she would not have to worry and would simply die. But it was unlikely that she would be given such a merciful death. No, they would kill her slowly and painfully, feeding on her pain and agony. The girl was in no hurry to go to the next world if that was the prospect.
"Do you surrender, slave?" the Sith asked mockingly, trying to put pressure on his rival with the Force.
Sylvia shook her head, not wasting energy on words. She just needed to concentrate. She was shaking. It was now or death.
Seth was suddenly sent flying out of the airfield where the duel was taking place. Sylvia's eyes widened in surprise, not understanding what had happened. The other students were also trying to process what had happened, remembering that the girl should not have had a chance, let alone seriously injure a pureblood Sith.
The slave thought about it, but she couldn’t come up with any understandable explanation on her own. They simply didn't let her, deciding everything for her.
The other students watched with some malice mixed with discontent as Sylvia rolled around on the metal surface, trying to throw off the lightning that had entangled her from all sides. She couldn't even scream for long, someone else's will enslaved her, forced her to beg for mercy.
"Enough!" a quiet but clear voice came from the upper floors. "This could have been fun, but, alas, it is not."
Sylvia had to work hard to raise her head to see who she had managed to anger. Her eyes widened in horror when she learned that she had been punished by Darth Niacris herself, about whom there were rumors, and not at all unflattering. She had the most vile character, but it was very rare that she condescended to the lowest acolytes, half of whom would simply be expendable during the initial stage of training.
"I'm tired of your circus. And the smugness of your red-faced comrade has become even more boring to me, so let our friendly animals eat him." the Sith lady broke into a creepy grin. "And you couldn't find other ways to test the abilities of your newcomers? Playing them off against each other is interesting, of course, but sometimes it gets boring. Everyone can go free. Except for the one who fought the Sith."
Darth Niacris jumped down in one motion, forcing the Force to part for her. The students quickly moved as far away from her as possible, afraid to anger her further. She was quick to punish. And there were rumors that she was close to the Emperor himself and often carried out his secret missions. And she exterminated many Jedi. But she rarely visited Korriban.
“You do understand that I actually saved your worthless life, right?” Niacris stared with her yellow eyes.
Sylvia curled up into a ball, feeling the full force of the Dark Side that was about to fall upon her. She had to say something, otherwise everything might be so terrible that it would end here and now.
"Yes, I understand." She tried her best to make her voice firm. "I'm sorry!"
Niacris waved her hand, forcing the girl to fall silent, cutting off her access to oxygen.
"I didn't ask for your pathetic opinion. It just makes me sick when I see real trash clinging to life so stubbornly. But on the one hand, it can be called commendable, but what good will you bring to our Empire? You can't be sent into battle even as cannon fodder. But by some funny coincidence, your weak abilities in the Force allowed you to join the ranks of our students. And, fortunately for you, too many of our brothers were killed by the damned Jedi in the last battles. Maybe that's why you can still try to take your rightful place in our ranks?"
Sylvia was silent, realizing that she really was incredibly lucky. For now, her fate would be decided exclusively at the final trials, where it would already be known who would go on and who would remain to rot on the sand under the terrible sun of Korriban.
Darth Niacris made a face.
"This concerns everyone present. Please take up your fighting positions when the time comes. The war will not end anytime soon, so we will need as many Dark Side adepts as possible. Such is the Emperor's wish."
The students started chattering among themselves at the exact moment the Sith Lady left the training ground. Every single one of them wanted to try their hand at throwing themselves into the thick of battle with the damned Republic. The instructor wanted to say that they should live to see it through first, but he decided to remain silent. After all, out of a group of fifteen, only three would be useful to the Empire, and the rest would have to die for the Empire. The weaklings had to be weeded out. He looked meaningfully at Sylvia, who was standing on her feet with great difficulty and was the first candidate for elimination, unless, of course, one of the experienced mentors decided to take on a weak-willed assistant. But that was a real rarity.
"You may go to your rooms," the instructor said. "I will expect everyone at the entrance to the tomb tomorrow. There is something that must be obtained. You are free to go."
Sylvia winced in pain, but occasionally glanced at her rivals, who might well have thought of mocking her. Especially now that Seth was dead only because he had screamed too loudly. No one would argue with the messenger from Dromund Kaas. She just needed to get to her room and lock herself in. At least the evening would be quiet, so she could be glad that this day had not been her last.
But her path was blocked by, in essence, the same slaves as she. Only they try to resemble their masters, in order to somehow get rid of the feeling of a thing.
"Where are you going? Do you think you can avoid the ritual?" snorted one, apparently a representative of Corellia. Although she could be wrong. It was difficult to determine who came from where, because now there was a hunt for Force-sensitives.
“And you weren’t satisfied with the performance that the Emperor’s envoy put on?” Sylvia answered wearily, realizing that the escape plan could be considered a failure.
The Twi'lek chuckled contentedly.
“It was, of course, of the highest class, but new details tell us that it’s worth getting rid of the ballast.” You can't do anything, you just whine and get it from more talented people. And why are you needed?"
"Well, that's clearly not up to you to decide." Sylvia hissed, feeling a wave of the Force inside her. They had gotten on her nerves so much that she no longer had the strength or desire to endure it. Maybe if she fought back at least once, they would leave her alone for a little while?
"Wow, have you gained courage? Since Seth didn't kill you, you think you're special?"
Sylvia clenched her fists, imagining the vile Twi'lek being smashed against the wall, and threw her hands forward. The Force heard her wish - the hapless slaves flew almost to the very fence. It was clear from their faces that they could not understand what had happened.
"Congratulations, boys, you finally made me really angry. Thank you, I was missing some real anger and fury." Sylvia said through gritted teeth, a little proud of her outburst of emotions that allowed her to touch the Force. The mentors are right - anger, fury, rage - all these are paths to true power. It will be necessary to remember this state.
Someone from the side addressed the vanquished in a mocking voice.
"It seems that you now share the title of the most important nonentities. Ha! You are used to oppression, but you have never even felt rage itself, and yet you want to become powerful Sith. You will be of little use to the Emperor."
Sylvia didn’t want to know what they might say about her, but she didn’t have time to leave.
"And you - Sylvia, right? - should remember these wonderful feelings. Better save this rage. Fear gives birth to anger, anger gives birth to hatred, hatred will bring you victories. If you decide to use it. And so at least you proved that you are not taking up space in vain."
Sylvia ignored these supposedly kind words. This could only be the recognition of a new rival, who should be gotten rid of at the right opportunity. So she had to be on guard, otherwise they would all have to face some pre-arranged traps. Alliances are formed as quickly as they are broken. She should trust only herself, and suspect everyone else, and even then it is not a fact that you will be able to prevent a stab in the back.
***
Darth Niacris listened with some detachment as the academy instructors reported on how many students were passing their final tests and taking up positions in ship command. Too often, Republic forces found their secret bases, quickly reducing the number of possible reinforcements. Or perhaps they had a spy in their leadership who was somehow leaking information to the Republic.
To her dismay, not many acolytes experience initiation into the mysteries of the dark side and fall prey to their ambitions too often, which usually comes in the form of rather blunt betrayals. And it was so difficult to obtain Force-sensitive children, in fact, there is a real race with the hated Jedi. So such a waste of personnel in a state of war...
"So can you tell me how much I can take already?" she interrupted impatiently a particularly slow, boring speaker. "The Emperor gave me clear instructions, so I will not dare to disappoint him. And he needs to throw all his forces to the border to recapture several important planets, where there are plenty of resources, without which the war will become even longer."
"We understand that the situation requires us to constantly send new students to you, because a young Sith is much more capable than an ordinary soldier, but we do not have many opportunities to test the skills of each acolyte..."
"What do you mean? "The yellow eyes lit up dangerously. "Do you mean to say that you cannot help your Emperor strengthen the army? If so, then I will definitely convey your incompetence to him. I am sure that he will be able to find you a worthy replacement who will be able to fulfill the will of his master."
The instructors looked at each other.
"We can provide you with three groups, but they know almost nothing."
"Then force them. Put them before the fact that if they don't pass the tests, they will die. I don't see anything complicated. It's the perfect way to weed out the garbage that only takes up so much precious time. So what now?"
"Do you want us to conduct final tests right now? Without preparation? There is a high probability that even those who show promise may die. We would not want to waste resources like that." one instructor tried to object.
"Are you hard of hearing?" Niacris was surprised. “My task is simple: to get a squad of warriors who are at least good for something. And for some reason you decided that you can prevent me from fulfilling it. Arrange inspections and get me at least some of our ammunition. I don't care how many of them die, I need soldiers."
"We hear you, we just want to save some of our students. But since this is a direct order from the Emperor, we will hold tests tomorrow. But only because it is necessary for our empire. I repeat, it is not a fact that the Emperor will be satisfied with the result if too many die. But we will do everything as you ask." the leader accepted defeat, realizing the fact that he would have to sacrifice students who could have been useful.
"Your direct responsibility is to train warriors. Everything else is not so important, but for some reason you buried your head in the sand. I understand that the war is going on at distant borders, it hardly affects you, therefore, you can relax and allow the rigor of training to be reduced. And the most important thing is that later you will be surprised that they can hardly do anything. Or do you think that the Jedi also waste a lot of unnecessary time to train their beloved students? No, they are also interested in victory, so even they have thrown away their principles of kindness and understanding, growing their combat units." - Niaсris was angry, she wanted to get fresh soldiers as quickly as possible and again go to combat zones, where the Empire's army is losing ground due to the lack of Sith who can instill terror in the Republic troops. And here these rearguards relaxed, deciding that they can slow down the pace of training a little.
"Tomorrow you will receive your squad. All those who survive from the senior groups will be given under your command. We do not promise that there will be many of them, but they will definitely be the best, since they can survive. Our tests do not make concessions. Please remember it. The Korriban Academy cares about its reputation, so we will do everything possible." one of the instructors concluded. "Then we cancel all scheduled training for tomorrow. Do not tell the students anything. Let them be ready to act on their feelings if they want to survive."
Niacris nodded contentedly, internally shuddering with pleasure. These people feared her, did not want to incur her wrath. And they also remembered the important fact that she was one of the most experienced generals in the Sith army, which constantly led their troops to victory. And anyone who dared to doubt this and challenge her met their death at her blade.
"I want to personally oversee the tests," Darth Niacris said. "I want to see what the survivors are capable of and what helped them survive. Oh, and I want the personal files of everyone who will be performing tomorrow."
"Do you want to attend?" the main one looked at her with interest. "A wise decision, because a good general should know what qualities his subordinate has. You will have a place to observe, although we usually do not allow outsiders. Only those who trained this or that group."
The woman nodded, accepting this decision.
"And what can you say about them? I'm just curious what the gentlemen mentors themselves think of their charges. You can certainly predict what the acolytes are capable of. And which of them deserve special attention, and who is the real scum who will die among the first."
One Chiss chuckled, attracting attention.
"You caused a stir among my acolytes today. It's a shame Seth crossed your path. He was capable."
"Capable? Don't make me laugh. If he had talent, he would have killed this puny girl who doesn't even know how to use the Force properly. But as it is, all he does is talk and no action. Total disappointment." Niacris disagreed.
"Sylvia is surprisingly resilient," the Chiss said thoughtfully. "She had so many opportunities to die, but she is still in the group. Although she has no talent for the Force. Only a meager predisposition, which our agents could not ignore. But it seems she can do something."
"She is weak. There is little Dark Side in her, which cannot be normal. It means that she is so weak-willed that she cannot even use her fear." the Lady Sith grimaced. "She is the first candidate for death during the test."
"Of course. Especially since she doesn't even have any allies. What Sith would do everything with his own hands when he can use others?" another instructor chuckled. "The other acolytes would simply kill her first, so she wouldn't get in the way."
"What about the others? I'm less interested in weaklings."
"Among the rest, there are about six people who know how to use the Dark Side to achieve their goals. There are those who are good at clouding the enemy's mind, forcing them to make fatal mistakes. Someone was able to use lightning, someone strengthens their body..."
"So it's not as bad as you're trying to convince me. Let's see what they'll use tomorrow when they encounter a real threat, where no instructor can help."
Chapter Text
The Lady Sith studied the data provided by the instructors, hoping to predict the outcome of the final tests. For her, it was all in the distant past, but these brats, on whom the future of the Empire partly depended, would have to give it their all if they wanted to be of real use and not become nothing but worthless trash, on whom so much precious time was wasted. Times might have changed, but the cruelty of the Dark Side - never.
Niacris leaned back in her chair, wondering what she would do if the damn Republic decided to launch a massive attack while she was away from the front lines. Yes, the Destruction of Coruscant had been a brilliant operation, but you couldn't take the Republic by surprise like that. They were prepared for almost anything. Although they were still overly trusting. Niacris allowed herself a fleeting smile as she rose to her feet and stretched. She would be watching the carnage soon enough, no doubt. Once the acolytes realized that the day had come when either you strike or you are struck down, things would get really interesting.
The comlink beeped shrilly, announcing a call from an encrypted channel. Niacris frowned. What else did her Emperor want?
The woman knelt.
"My lord." She bowed her head politely.
"Niacris, I'm glad you're still in touch, otherwise an unpleasant thought had crept into my head and wouldn't let go." The Emperor spoke slowly, allowing his interlocutor to feel his power.
"And what was that thought, my lord?" Niacris remained calm, but her thoughts were running in different directions in the hope of determining what exactly was causing the Emperor's displeasure.
"Well, how can I say it... First of all, doubts are gnawing at me. Although you've served me faithfully for many years, some of your actions and decisions upset me. Maybe I've just started seeing shadows of enemies everywhere, eager to strike me, or maybe I'm perceptive enough to notice the inconsistencies." Even through the technology, the Emperor pressed on her with all the power of the Dark Side.
"If some of my decisions were a bit hasty, my lord, then I can assure you that I am on your side. You know that there are constant intrigues on Korriban and Dromund Kaas, and more than once they have affected you and your position. You may not believe me, but I am your loyal servant until my last breath." Niakris had never been dependent on power, but going against the lord would have been the height of short-sightedness.
"I know, Niakris, I know. If you want a loyal comrade, create one yourself. But I have expressed my concerns, and I am afraid I am forced to watch your every move. Do not disappoint me. Take the acolytes and return to the front lines. We cannot give up our positions. Over."
Niakris looked at the floor for a while, trying to stop trembling. Rarely did she confront the lord, and much less often did she feel his anger on her own skin. She couldn't figure out where she had gone wrong, but there was no time to figure it out now. If the Emperor was displeased, it was better to do what he wanted.
***
The instructors kept an eye on the acolytes standing in a crowd at the entrance to the tomb. It was necessary to maintain order, if only to ensure that the test went smoothly, with all participants.
The Chiss cleared his throat.
"Listen up, losers. Today your fate will be decided. Prove that you are worthy of being part of the Sith Order, or simply die with the realization of your own worthlessness. We need strong warriors who know for sure that the future belongs to the Empire, and not to the weak and rotten Republic. Today you will enter the ancient tomb of one of the most powerful Sith of the past - Tulak Hord. He truly did not like disturbers of his peace, so you will have to strain yourself if you want to survive until the end of the trials. Your task is to go through the tomb and meet the masters waiting for you on the other side, who will make their decision." He waved his hand sharply. "Let's begin!"
As the Chiss had expected, the acolytes hesitated slightly, and then rushed into the narrow mouth of the tomb in a crowd, pushing each other aside, hurrying to run first.
"I don't think any of them will be properly trained," he muttered. "A waste of resources. Only a real fool would rush into a tomb full of traps so stupidly."
"Alas, there is nothing we can do to change that, colleague. Try to object to Darth Niacris, after all the right hand of the Emperor, who usually does not look in here. Only occasionally do members of the Dark Council visit in order to keep an eye on an apprentice, but fortunately these candidates are always on a separate list."
"I agree. Although these can serve well, if as many lessons as possible are hammered into them. But that's not our problem. I'll be very surprised if more than five acolytes manage to reach the end of the test. And if they do, they'll run into the Emperor's envoy, who has expressed a desire to replace one of ours. And then they'll clearly regret not being eaten by the creatures."
The other instructors just shrugged. They did everything to protect the truly talented students from completely unnecessary tests. After all, the Dark Council is also a separate aspect of power in the Empire, and if you want to live long, you need to be able to maneuver between all the poles.
Sylvia ran along with everyone else, waiting for the moment when they would start getting rid of her. She had no allies, and she couldn't get through this tomb alone. But something told her that it wouldn't be so easy for the others to work as a team either. She remembered an old phrase that someone had dropped within the walls of the academy: the way of the Sith is betrayal. If that's the case, then you shouldn't trust anyone.
"You'll die here, worthless." The Twi'lek couldn't help but comment, speeding up and disappearing around the corner.
Sylvia bared her teeth, listening to her feelings. The Dark Side was everywhere here, in every crack in the wall, in the slightest vibration of the air. The girl felt terribly uncomfortable, as if she would never be allowed to be here in her life. It was becoming difficult to breathe, as if the tomb was pressing with all its weight on her consciousness. It took incredible effort to take a step. But there was no turning back - the instructors would simply kill her for her cowardice with one wave of their hand. And what rights did slaves have?
She was distracted from her completely unnecessary thoughts by a scream of horror from the acolytes who had run ahead. Sylvia instinctively squeezed the handle of her vibroblade, hoping that she could defend herself. The scream was repeated again, but then abruptly stopped. The girl slowly approached the ill-fated turn, afraid of what she might find there.
The Twi'lek was not the first victim, the creature enslaved by the Dark Side successfully gnawed three and raised its still hungry gaze to Sylvia. She recoiled, trying to come up with a plan, but the beast jumped on her. The vibroblade automatically rose upward in an inept attempt to defend itself. The creature growled, but its jaw stopped dangerously close to Silvia's face.
Fear worked wonders, especially when you began to transform it into a weapon. All the worthless slave had to do was sense the raw anger and fury boiling inside her and use it. The creature flew into the wall and screamed piteously as its body was impaled on a torch that had stood there since the days when Tulak Hord was still alive and stalking Korriban, harassing the damned Jedi.
Sylvia couldn't believe her eyes, but everything inside her was seething, a previously unknown power was dancing in her hands. Something she hadn't been able to feel for an incredibly long time during endless training, where everyone beat her half to death only because there were no other entertainments on Korriban. And when everyone was a slave, the authority there was held by the one who had enough power to destroy his rivals. So, now it was definitely impossible to stand still.
The slave took a deep breath, keeping all her emotions and feelings in the same position, although inside she was warping at such dark manifestations. But now it was a question of survival, not what felt right or wrong. Sylvia could not accept the fact that she would still have to face her past abusers, and she could not be sure that she would not enjoy hurting them. On Korriban, everything was saturated with hatred, malice, the desire to cause terrible suffering, to destroy the enemy, to trample him to such a state that you would not even want to dirty your hands on him if he begged to be put out of his suffering. The weak did not survive in the ranks of the Sith.
The slave began to move forward carefully, feeling the suffocating darkness swirling around her, trying to get into her, fill her lungs and completely dissolve the victim in itself. The sensations were not pleasant, but there was nowhere to go: either she would try to fight for her right to live in the Empire, or she could stay here and wait for another hungry little animal to come and feast on her defenseless prey.
***
Niacris watched the test with some disappointment. She hadn't expected impressive results anyway, but she had expected that the bunch of scum wouldn't immediately be torn to pieces by the creatures of the Dark Side. Unfortunately, such soldiers wouldn't be able to serve even as cannon fodder for the glory of the Empire, and therefore their training was a waste of resources.
"I told you that you shouldn't conduct the tests so quickly..." one of the instructors tried to justify himself, but was immediately shut up by the displeased look of the Emperor's envoy.
"The Emperor gave me a clear order, to disobey which would be the height of stupidity and unwillingness to keep your head in its rightful place. Namely: gather the acolytes and go to where the hated Republic continues to destroy our loyal comrades. But you hardly understand this, because you do not often leave the safety of Korriban, do you, gentlemen mentors?" Real contempt oozed from Niacris's head, from which it was impossible to hide. One of the Emperor's personal guards could intimidate anyone, if she wanted. "So, I myself will choose which of your failures will be ready to go with me to the front lines. And there I will decide who will live and who will die in the name of our great Empire."
Niakris wasn't dodging, she really wanted to leave Korriban, she always felt uncomfortable on that planet, as if something was blocking her access to free thought, to habitual thinking. Something was changing inside her, grinding and mixing, not allowing her to think clearly. She didn't have a specific answer, but she had to visit the hated planet less often.
"You do understand that these aren't real combat units that you can count on?" another man tried to get through to her again, but his words were ignored.
"You do understand that the Emperor will be damn unhappy with this state of affairs, right? Yes, we struck the first blow, but the war continues and there will always be successful and unsuccessful outcomes. So I advise you to shut up and do your job, so that there will be someone to protect the territories entrusted to you from the encroachments of these crazy Jedi who believe in some nonsense about friendship throughout the world." Niacris almost hissed with indignation, but restrained herself from killing someone in a fit of rage.
***
Lord Scourge rarely visited Dromund Kaas, only when the Emperor personally called him on special assignments. In particular, they were always connected with that failed coup attempt that led to the pureblood Sith gaining immortality and being forever bound to his master. But the last time, the Emperor became increasingly strange, ready to commit mass executions just to quench his ego's thirst. As Scourge suspected, this could be connected with that monstrous ritual that was never avoided. And those Jedi were not to be envied at all: Revan was sent into a comatose state for the longest time, and the fate of the girl who came for her comrade was hardly pleasant. Scourge was not one to truly feel sorry for temporary allies, but his vision of the Force changed several times, which confused him. And looking for that very Jedi who would destroy Vitiate was a waste of time, because no one knows whether it was true or a figment of his panicked mind.
The Sith dropped to one knee, ready to listen to his master.
"I have come at your call, Master. How may I serve you?"
The Emperor did not answer immediately. He preferred to force his servant to guess what exactly was required of him, and only then explain his true desire. Scourge hated this at times, because sometimes it was easier to listen to an order and immediately carry it out, without any games.
"It concerns Niakris."
Scourge wasn't surprised that the conversation turned to another participant and at the same time the lucky one to receive great power. The Emperor was always extremely attentive to those he rewarded, and expected a certain step from them. Scourge knew more than the rest of the Dark Council, although they would probably jump into a black hole if they could learn such a secret. Influence, everything is built on damn influence. And if the master wants to assign something, then pretending to be damn busy does not work.
"I am listening. What exactly do you need to do, my lord?"
The Sith was no fool, yes, he understood that the Emperor was dangerous, but he could do nothing about him. He could only hope that he would not think of performing the ritual again.
"I am beginning to have doubts about her loyalty," the Emperor finally said. "Her actions are no longer what they should be for my faithful servant. No, she is not weaving any intrigues, as Darth Nyriss did, who did not underestimate the strength of our unique prisoner. And that is the problem. If Niacris had been a Sith from the very beginning, then her behavior could have been predicted."
"Do you think that she is worth fearing now? Then maybe we shouldn't send her to the very edge, because she could very well find allies there in the Republic, or someone else." Scourge had no illusions. The old visions were clear and displayed all the hidden qualities of the Jedi duo who had risked interrupting the ritual.
"Be afraid? Not now. For now, she obeys my orders without question, you can see that, because Niakris is currently gathering a squad of young acolytes on Korriban, whom I am going to send into such hell to check for sure whether there is anything left in her from her old life. You can’t expect anything from these weaklings anyway, but I would like to see her reaction." The Emperor spoke evenly, as if everything that was happening was one and the same for him. "I would like you to check our prisoner. I have no doubt that he will definitely try to do something, his strength is impressive, but I do not trust him. Now I can no longer influence him as before. But he may well make changes in Niakris. And he will try so that I will not notice anything."
"Then how did you know there was something wrong with her?" Scourge asked, not quite understanding where the Emperor was going with this. Yes, Niacris was not that simple, she had another life, but all of that should have been erased over the past centuries.
"It was something elusive. As if her attitude towards the war was slowly changing. Most often, she made plans where there were fewer and fewer victims, which is completely out of character for her, isn't it?" The Emperor laughed. "Where have you ever seen a Sith from the personal guard feel sorry for some bug, cannon fodder, who must die for the glory of our Empire? Can you imagine? Even the "kindest" of us are still used to destroying anyone who gets in their way. The only difference is whether the death is painful or not."
"Are you saying that the Dark Side is loosening its grip?" Scourge himself had participated in that matter, although, in his opinion, there were few options for Niacris: either submission or death.
"I didn't say that, but it is quite possible. Our mutual friend, it seems, mentioned a couple of times that he had a comrade in arms who stubbornly resisted the Darkness. Let's see how true that turns out to be."
"And if it does happen that control is no longer there, will you give the order to destroy?" Scourge said indifferently.
The Emperor shook his head.
"No, just watching for now. Let's see how she behaves in front of the acolytes, from whom nothing special can be expected. In the end, she had an excellent chance to kill me then, but the choice she made was not entirely correct. Although loyalty to a comrade is undoubtedly beautiful." Vitiate laid out possible scenarios in his head, which he was in no hurry to dedicate his servant to. Sometimes it's just fun to let things slide and see what eventually becomes reality. "For me personally, Niacris does not pose any real threat."
Scourge nodded, realizing that this was the end of the private conversation. Just observation. The Sith did not like to sit idle, but in this situation he would be able to pay attention to the visions that the Force sends him. And which the Emperor should not know about.
Chapter Text
Sylvia understood that the final trials were never easy, never all survived them, usually only a few, or even just one acolyte. There were many dark creatures, but her rage helped her survive so far, allowing her to use the Force exactly as it was originally expected. Yes, the Sith Lord Tulak Hord knew how to identify those who wanted to live, and those who only boasted about their abilities. She was shaking from the Force that overwhelmed her, feeling how the Dark Side was reaching out to her. And these touches were strange, but right now it was her guarantee of survival.
The tomb seemed endless, one corridor followed another, she had already lost all orientation in space. Sometimes she thought that someone was watching her, but there was no doubt about it: the instructors were watching who was coping with the test and how. Sylvia came out into some hall, most likely a ceremonial one, since there was an altar with some kind of cube by the wall, but she didn’t want to approach it at all. A strange glow emanated from the cube, which attracted, but also repelled.
"Let me guess, is this part of the test too?" Sylvia muttered under her breath, trying to somehow break the ominous silence. Although all the Sith tombs of the past were simply shrouded in horror and darkness, so her efforts were in vain. "A cube, huh? A holocron or whatever they call it?"
She was thrown roughly into the wall, apparently another candidate had also reached the hall and clearly decided that it was worth announcing his presence.
"It's amazing that you managed to get this far, slave. Apparently, you have some talent after all." Her rival spoke up, holding a vibroblade in his hand, aimed at her. "But it's best to stay away, girl. Only those who are strong enough and skilled in using the Dark Side are worthy of touching the Sith holocron."
Sylvia struggled to her feet, trying to make out her opponent in the dim light. He was a Zabrak, who usually went unnoticed during classes, but everyone considered him dangerous. And the fears of the other students were justified during the final test. She clutched her weapon tightly in her hands, wondering what she had to do to stay alive until the end of the test.
"Do you want to fight for the right to become the winner? You seem to underestimate your opponent." smiled the Zabrak, who actually wanted to put pressure on Sylvia so much that she would throw herself at him. It was his favorite Force trick. Almost everyone fell into his trap, opening their minds completely to him, allowing him to control their actions.
"No, on the contrary." the girl croaked, keeping a safe distance from him. She would not risk attacking him without a plan in reserve. But the Zabrak stood his ground, paying more attention to the artifact than to the slave.
"Still, an interesting test, using the holocron. Or is that the trophy that needs to be obtained?" the Zabrak suddenly said. "How many competitors do you think we have? Our class isn't very good as it is, and Tulak Hord isn't known for his mercy."
Sylvia only tightened her grip on her weapon.
"Why are you even asking me? There is no point in joining forces with me, is there?"
"Just sharing my thoughts. But you are right. Very few of our... comrades have reached this stage." The Zabrak swung his blade expressively.
"It's nice to know that you use "our" comrades." the girl bared her teeth, feeling the vibroblade's handle slip from the sweat in her hand. She would have to choose the moment, otherwise it would be too late, otherwise this Zabrak would simply kill her and become the winner. True, she had little chance. Rage was seething in her, but in comparison to her opponent it was nothing.
The Zabrak took a step forward, increasing the pressure, surprised to himself that the weakest had even made it to this round, but they had all been chosen to be Sith, so it was worth keeping in mind that it wasn't that simple. Sylvia, on the other hand, took a step back, keeping her distance.
But both of them had little patience, so the Zabrak decided to test his strength. Sylvia barely held the vibroblade in her hands, feeling how the recoil from the blow almost made her drop the weapon. The enemy was strong.
"I will do you a favor by killing you here and now. The secrets of the Force are not for you, human rat. So die!"
Sylvia crashed into the wall, realizing that the enemy was using the Force, pushing her toward the statues with spearheads. She didn't want to run into them at all. Blow after blow, and her strength was waning, fatigue was falling. She was backing down before the power of the Dark Side seething in the Zabrak. He drew it in a completely different way, not like the others. A false calm that allowed him to replenish the connection and destroy everything in the world. You couldn't guess what he would do next. His power was suffocating her, not allowing her to breathe, as if her entire being did not accept the surrounding atmosphere.
"I admire that you..."
"Yes, yes, I know... The Academy made me survive." Sylvia croaked, dropping her sword, no longer able to hold it. She understood that she was not surviving the test, that this would be her end in this world. What a misfortune she had to be born in the vastness of the Empire! It was unfair! Damn unfair! The rage flared up in her again, only now it felt different. As if it came from a different source, and not like before, like a breath of fresh air. It was so unfamiliar that it knocked the breath out of her. As if she began to see this world more clearly and understand it better, but not like the Sith. What was happening?!
But now this strange power gave her an advantage against the pressure of the Dark Side, giving her an opportunity. Sylvia looked at the Zabrak intently, as if examining every line of the tattooed skull, then in one movement she jumped away from the enemy. It felt like someone was helping her, as if this energy was coming from somewhere. The guy looked at her in surprise, feeling her change. Now he had to decide what to do with it.
~
An angry and at the same time interested look was directed at the instructor.
"Well, I wouldn't say that this phenomenon is so rare, but nevertheless, usually adherents of the Light Side do not live even half a year within the walls of the Academy. And here this little brat even managed to survive until the test and another contender for victory. An illusory one, of course, but still a victory. I wouldn't say that it is definitely your fault, but I think it could have been noticed much earlier." Niacris could not hold back a mocking snort. She saw that the man turned pale and looked in her direction with apprehension, awaiting her verdict. "Perhaps we should purge our ranks. Or check for an inclination towards the Dark Side. We would not want to breed defectors who could give away a couple of our secrets to the Jedi."
"I understand your concerns. But all our acolytes were born in Imperial space and must follow only our ideology. In addition, many of them were born in poverty and are hungry for power, which allows us to use them for our purposes more confidently." the instructor rattled off. "We... We will carefully check everyone who will join us. True, adepts of the Light side usually do not survive too long within the walls of Korriban. But this is an excellent answer to the question of why she cannot control the Force within the training grounds. But I think there is no doubt that the Zabrak will win, right?"
"Who knows. Adaptability is also an important trait for acolytes. Besides, if the girl somehow miraculously survives, then we can use her." Niacris said thoughtfully, tapping her finger on the table. She remembered the Emperor's special children, whose number would be good to increase if they wanted to finish off the Jedi and the Republic rather quickly.
"Use it?" the instructor asked again, perplexed, trying to guess whether he should worry about the integrity of his life or whether he could finally breathe a sigh of relief. He did not like the changeability of the Emperor's envoy's mood at all. His colleagues, as expected, remained silent and looked at the screens, observing the outcome of the duel.
"Yes, use it. Jedi have a soft spot for others. And they can be amazingly blind, so it’s worth playing on these feelings. Stop the test. Don’t let the Zabrak kill the girl. She’ll make a good spy. She’s sure she won’t be useful, but now… I’ll give her a purpose in the name of the Empire." Niacris made a decision. She had long been interested in how one could use those who couldn’t give their all in battles and research, who were literally twisted by the Dark Side and didn’t let them breathe. For her, it was a real waste to simply kill such acolytes, when with proper treatment they could become good deceivers and spies in the Republic. "We’re losing our people, losing our advantage. So it’s worth undermining the confidence of these good fools."
"Are you sure? This seems like a rather dangerous adventure, not a solid plan." One of the instructors said carefully. "Where is the certainty that these plans..."
"No one will send weaklings completely alone. But first they will undergo their special training, where their loyalty will be tested. Or do you think that this is an impulsive decision?" Niacris looked angrily at the speaker, letting him know that he should think more before doubting the decisions of Sith of a different rank. "They will definitely be dealt with on Dromund Kaas. Not to mention that I will deal with this little one myself. At first, this will be an experimental moment, easy to eliminate in case of failure. Or do you have other ideas on how to strengthen the power of the Empire?"
"Absolutely not."
The instructors were given a few minutes to exchange eloquent glances while Niacris began to peer at the screen. Each time, these higher-up Sith tried to show their superiority in everything, ridiculing the instructors for their work, although they themselves were already starting work with more or less tested material. None of them had ever tried to train a Force-sensitive newcomer on their own, to make him feel anger, the touch of the Dark Side, to teach him to use rage for his own survival. But there was no point in talking about it, they would simply be ignored.
~
Sylvia fell on her back, mentally preparing herself for her life to end. The mysterious power was gone, but it had allowed her to live long enough to die less shamefully. She had survived until the end. Much longer than she could have expected from herself. At least to show that she could do something.
"I think the winner is already clear. I don't know what trick you used earlier, but it didn't help you. My victory is a testament to my superiority over the other acolytes. I deserve much more than any of you pathetic weaklings. The Sith of old should be proud of me." the Zabrak spoke solemnly, throwing Sylvia's vibroblade as far away from her as possible.
But before he could deliver the final blow, a hidden speaker spoke. The voice of one of the instructors was cold and dispassionate, but what he said made both finalists look up in surprise.
"The tests are over. You both passed them. Get out of the tomb. Your mentors will be waiting for you at the exit, who will give you further instructions."
"What's going on?" the Zabrak said irritably, wondering what to do next. There was no point in not believing the words, so it was worth deciding to develop a line of behavior. However, this was hardly the first time that there were several survivors who demonstrated their talents. But it was quite unexpected for these tests.
"I think we should go to the exit and find out." Sylvia jumped to her feet, holding out her hand, expecting her weapon to jump into her hand. "I know no more than you."
Her opponent gave her a disdainful look and grabbed the holocron first. Then he walked towards the exit. It was clear from his sharp, quick steps that he completely disagreed with the instructors' decision, but Sylvia doubted that he would dare show it to his superiors. Well, of course he took that damn triangle to show his superiority. A Sith-style gesture.
She hurried after him, keeping a sufficient distance to be ready for his blow. There couldn't be cameras all over the tomb; there had to be blind spots. So she was in no hurry to say goodbye to her suddenly acquired life. Curiosity stirred inside her about their next steps. The Zabrak would most likely be taken as an apprentice, and she might either find a teacher herself or become cannon fodder on the front lines. Sylvia had no illusions.
The sunlight made them squint helplessly before the formation of several instructors and a pair of armored Sith. The acolytes hadn't seen them before, which meant only one thing - this was their future. It was exciting.
"Congratulations, acolytes. You have passed the tests, which means you have proven your usefulness to the Empire. Do not forget that your main task is to serve the Emperor and the Dark Council. Now your future teachers will tell you what is expected of you. Accept their words with honor, and do not dare to disgrace our academy. Do you understand?" the chief instructor looked coldly at each of them, then took a step back.
"What is your name, boy?" the heavyset Sith in armor rasped, looking at the Zabrak. He was not going to take the girl, but the Dathomirian was just his type.
"Ezarje." The Zabrak bowed his head in awe. He accepted his future, feeling the power of his mentor. He wanted nothing more. For now.
"A good name for a Jedi killer. Come with me. Soon you will kill your first Jedi."
"Yes, Master! I will gladly bring down the full power of the Dark Side on these pathetic weaklings who cling to loyalty and honor!" The young acolyte was ready to howl with delight that he had been chosen by a powerful Sith as an apprentice, that he was about to show his abilities and then... And then... His burning gaze shifted to Sylvia, who stubbornly pretended not to notice his hatred towards her.
"Your luck is about to run out, weakling. Your kind shouldn't survive, you know! Try not to run into my sword when I fight our enemies. I might not be able to tell the difference between you and them! Understand?!" The Zabrak suddenly fell silent, trying to breathe, his eyes growing larger and larger.
"Master Zarrens, I kindly request that you teach your ward to keep his mouth shut before that very tongue is forcibly nailed inside his skull. I suppose you won't mind such a remark?"
The armored Sith glanced sideways at the other mentor, who was slightly squeezing her fingers in a position as if they were around the throat of a new apprentice.
"I will heed your wishes, Master Niacris, only if you do not provoke my apprentice by choosing battles where our charges might clash. Neither of us wants to waste time keeping them in line. Especially when we both want to teach them the teachings of the Sith." Zarrens looked at Niacris carefully, waiting for her to release the Zabrak.
"What is it, boy? You don't have the strength to handle such a light pull of the Force? Trust me, this isn't even a real Force Choke. Your first test, Acolyte. Come on, show me that power you brag about."