Chapter Text
Turns out there is no cleaning service on Korriban. Who could have guessed?
Turns out there were multiple ways that someone could dispose of a body; dumping it near a k'lor slug nest just happened to be the easiest and quickest way to get rid of it.
It was also the most insane and stupid thing you could do.
Yet here Xaden was, carrying a dead human body in the middle of the cold Korriban night, trying to dump it near some K'lor slugs without getting eaten himself.
Siv told Xaden to kriff off when he asked the Twi’lek to help him carry the bodies out into the valley, because it would be much easier to explain if anyone caught them out there.
But the yellow Twi’lek instead told Xaden that he would deal with all the blood that now stained the floors of their shared room.
Xaden grunted as he heaved the carcass over his shoulder; somehow he had made it out of the academy with all three of the bodies, without either a guard, overseer, or fellow acolyte seeing him.
Siv mentioned that the guards took shifts at the entrance and probably were on break during the evening hours when the overseers and acolytes were all in their bedchambers or elsewhere in the academy.
Now here he was standing among a trio of bodies, the chill of night nipping at his exposed cheeks and nose, the smell of blood still heavy on his clothes.
Slung over his shoulder was one body; the two others he dragged behind him as he trekked through the red sand valley.
Entranced, tombs far older than him rose up from the sandy dunes, their wide maw-like entrances almost as dark as the night sky.
Xaden couldn't help but sigh as he stopped for a moment, catching his breath. The tombs weren’t the only thing unsettling at night; the sounds that emanated from them were far more unnerving than the intimidating interior architecture—whispers that hissed at the edges of his mind and the subtle shuffling of scales against stone.
Xaden paused every time the shuffling sounded too close, closing his eyes and darting to the entrances of all the nearby tombs before he began dragging the bodies further away from the academy.
Siv had told him it was better to leave the bodies far away from the academy so that they wouldn’t be easily discovered in the morning; hopefully the K'lor slugs would get to the bodies before any other acolytes found them.
In the short conversation Xaden had with Siv, he heard a few things.
One, you can kill whoever you want, as long as an overseer, guard, or visiting lord doesn't see you.
Two Sith don’t forget the actions of others, victory or mistake, it doesn't matter, and finally, three.
If Xaden ever touches Siv’s side of the room, the yellow twi’lek would gut him in his sleep.
Xaden finally froze when he heard the sound of movement.
This was it, k'lor slugs. He quickly let the body he had on his shoulder slump down onto the ground, piling the bodies on top of each other before he darted towards a large crack in the side of the red stone mountains that one of the tombs was built into.
The crack was thankfully large enough for him to fit his entire body in, though it felt slightly uncomfortable.
Hopefully the k'lor slugs would find the bodies, drag them off back to the nest, and let Xaden sneak back to the academy without being seen. The scuttling of scales got closer, followed by the grotesque sound of the slimy chatter of the K'lor slugs' teeth. It sounded like there were several of them, but Xaden didn't risk sticking his head out to check.
The sound of sinew ripping and bones cracking made Xaden aware that the k'lor slugs had indeed found the bodies; now he only had to wait for them to leave before he could slip back to the academy.
The snapping hiss of a lightsaber made him freeze, eyes widening, and the world seemed to pause for just a moment before the sound of the k'lor slugs' screeches filled the air, followed by the scent of burnt flesh.
It took Xaden a moment not to gag. He had become familiar with the sickeningly sweet smell of burnt flesh at Basgiath; the dragons certainly contributed to that factor, but the sour-smelling odor that now filled his nostrils made him want to double over and vomit.
“How curious. Those bodies look fresh, Overseer.”
A teasing but languid voice split through the silence and almost made Xaden jolt. It was followed by the familiar gruff authoritative voice of Overseer Tremel.
"They were probably killed by the k'lor slugs on their way back to the academy, my lord. But back to the matter at hand, you wanted to speak with me?”
“Yes… I did. I wanted to talk about the Riorson boy. I heard he has just arrived at the academy.” The inquiry made Xaden pause.
He had arrived just a few hours ago; how had news of his arrival spread so quickly? And more importantly, who was this, and why were they asking about him?
“Dark lord, the boy has only just recently arrived; may I ask how you already know of his presence?” Xaden bit back a curse as his heart hammered in his chest.
Dark lord? The person Tremel was talking to is on the dark council?
A small panic filled him; his father had mentioned the dark council a few times, but every time he did, it was always to criticize his former colleagues or to sing the praises of the few allies that he had.
Xaden wondered which one this dark lord was, ally? Or enemy?
“Well, I was informed of some new rumors spreading through the academy. One of the most promising acolytes was scared by the son of a former dark council member. Naturally I was curious, and so I let the rumor mill spin, and soon enough I heard that the boy was a Riorson, and apparently he killed three acolytes who wandered into his room. I don’t suppose those would be these three acolytes overseer?”
Xaden could practically hear the raised eyebrow in the lord’s voice. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Xaden cursed mentally. So the K'lor slugs didn't have enough time to disfigure the bodies beyond recognition. His stomach churned as an evident pause filled the air.
“I do not know, my lord.” Tremel’s voice was calm but unnerved.
The dark lord simply hummed, and Xaden could almost sense the dark lord tilting his head at the bodies.
“Xaden Riorson. That's his name, isn't it? I find it very curious that four of the academy's best overseers suddenly travelled out into the unknown regions and brought back Fen Riorson's son. Darth Rictus currently holds the seat for the sphere of mysteries. I wonder, do you believe that acolyte Riorson will try to reclaim his father’s council seat?”
The accusatory words struck Xaden right in the chest.
Darth Rictus, the dark lord that now holds his father's seat, a strange feeling overcame Xaden; he had barely spent even a day at the academy, and now he already has more enemies than allies.
Much like how it had been during his first year at Basgiath. Xaden gritted his teeth together.
But a small kernel of curiosity filled his chest; if this was a member of the dark council that was willing to aid him, then perhaps he could challenge Darth Rictus sooner than he had originally planned.
Curiosity burned in Xaden’s heart as he slowly shuffled closer to the exit of the crack in the stone wall. The voices grew louder and clearer.
“If acolyte Riorson were to challenge Darth Rictus, would he have your support, my lord?” Once again the Sith hummed contemplatively.
“Careful overseer. Your closeness with Fen was well known, and your hatred for Darth Rictus even more well known; it would be a shame for the academy to lose such a prized overseer to an assassin. The world held its breath for a moment, and Xaden felt his heart plummet, and then the Sith spoke again
. “I find it curious, overseer. That you are so protective of the Riorson boy, especially when Darth Rictus aligned far more with your…traditional views.” The word "traditional" was spat venomously, and Xaden could almost see Tremel tense.
"Traditional" could mean many different things to the Sith, but it mostly just meant dominance over the lesser species and upholding pure Sith supremacy.
Xaden could hear the pause in Tremel's voice as he spoke.
“Fen Riorson and I held an understanding together. The boy is merely how I am repaying the debt I owe him.”
“The debt you owe to a dead man.” The words weren’t biting, just intrigued. Silence once again covered the valley save for the distant whispers of the temples and the howl of the night wind.
"That will be all, overseer. I hope that young Riorson found this conversation…enlightening." Xaden froze his whole body, straightening before he was torn from his hiding spot and shoved down onto the cold red sand.
Straight into the view of both overseer Tremel and the dark lord.
Fuck.
Xaden scrambled to his feet, his chest heaving as he slowly stepped away from his hiding spot into the glaring moonlight of Korriban's seven moons.
His heart stuttered in his chest as he looked at Overseer Tremel, who looked like he wanted to strangle Xaden, and then his gaze fell on the dark lord.
And everything else falls away around him. A skull-like silver mask encapsulated the Sith's head; long dark robes fell from his shoulders in a cascade of dark fabric. But his body was whole, surrounded in silver armor; there was not a single weak point that Xaden could spot in the Darth's armor.
But the armor didn't compare to the sheer presence that the dark lord had; the air around him bent inward, as if the very force around him bent to him naturally.
Xaden swallowed the lump in his throat and bowed his head, the motion awkward and unpracticed.
“Dark Lord,” he said, clear enough for it to carry across the valley.
Xaden couldn't tell, but he was sure the dark lord was smiling.
The dark council member took a step forward towards Xaden, and he felt his whole body tense as the Sith circled him, like a wolf circling its prey. And then the Sith stood in front of him; it took everything Xaden had to avert his gaze down, to not look the Sith lord in the eyes.
Then a gloved hand gripped his chin, pulling him up to face the Sith in front of him.
“A word of advice, boy. Do not cower in front of anyone no matter what rank they hold.”
Xaden blinked at the Sith, his back straightening as the Sith released their grip on his chin.
The dark lord then simply walked away, headed back towards the academy, but not until after looking over his shoulder to Xaden.
“I will be watching your rise through the empire, Riorson. Do stay alive long enough to shake things up, will you? It has been so long since anyone has stirred things around here.” And with that, the dark council member disappeared into the night, leaving a now frozen Xaden Riorson and an enraged overseer out in the desert.
Somehow Xaden found the gall and breath to speak up.
“Who was that?’ The question weighed heavily in the air, and it took a moment before Tremel responded.
“Darth Nox.”
Fuck.
To say that Tremel had been angry at Xaden is a gross understatement.
But somehow Xaden managed to weasel himself out of a beating by telling the overseer he would return immediately back to his chambers, and that's exactly what he fucking did.
This wasn’t Basgiath; no matter how many similarities there were between the two death collages, the Sith academy would always be far more fucking terrifying and dangerous.
Anything goes; there's no "can't-kill-your-enemies-when-they're-asleep" rule. Great,
Xaden wondered when he would next get an actual night's rest. He didn't breathe a word of what happened to Siv, though the Twi'lek didn't stop questioning him on whether the bodies had been disposed of; Xaden simply told him it was taken care of, even though he himself didn't know if that was true or not.
Xaden sighed as he sank into his bed, his eyes fluttering shut even as he gripped a dagger tightly in both hands.
Even with the keycard system people could still break in, though the question of how was left unanswered as Siv promptly fell asleep, leaving Xaden to speculate before he himself surrendered to the comfort of his new bed.
A groan exited Xaden as he stirred awake, rubbing at his eyes. He stood, stretching out his limbs, daggers still held in his hands until he placed them on the small bedside table.
He stretched out his arms, feeling the satisfying burn of his muscles waking up.
Quickly he pulled off the nightwear that had been provided to him and slipped on the acolyte uniform also provided for him. He was going to pull the tunic over his head until he heard a low whistle from behind him.
“Kirffing hell, that’s one hell of a tattoo.” Siv’s deep third voice made Xaden jolt, turning sharply on his heel to face the yellow twi’lek rolling out of his own bed, looking at Xaden with a raised brow, the skin on Xaden’s back pricked.
The skin tickling with goosebumps, the massive expanse of his dragon relic sprawled across his back tingled.
Xaden swallowed his mouth dry. The relic, Sgeayl, had given him to cover the 107 marks that Siv had no doubt also seen. An awkward silence fell over the room and Sivroom, raised his hands in surrender.
“Didn’t mean to pry; it's just, I haven't seen anything like it.” Siv’s tone was curious, but surprisingly, it held a genuine apology.
“It's fine,” was Xaden’s clipped answer before he pulled the tunic over the top of his head, smoothing it out as he finished dressing himself. Siv didn’t get dressed and merely tiredly walked over to their shared kitchen and began…cooking?
Siv nodded his head towards the small two-person table that sat in the middle of the dorm.
“Sit. I'll get us both something to eat.” Now it was Xaden's turn to raise an eyebrow at Siv even though he was already pulling out a chair and taking his seat.
Siv didn't turn around as he cooked.
“Look, you saved my life. That doesn't happen around here, so I feel like I owe you. I think I can at least be civil with you after you, you know, saved my life.” Xaden watched the words tumble out of Siv as the Twi’lek cooked.
“I thought the academy provided food for us?” Xaden asked; his father had told him a lot about the academy, what to expect, and how to act.
It was all drilled into him, but Xaden would admit that the past years, where he has been trying to stop himself from literally dying at any given moment, have dulled his memory a bit.
Siv barked a hard laugh. “They do, but I would hardly call what they serve food.”
Xaden grimaced, trying to not imagine what Siv described.
They sat there for a while; Siv had cooked what Xaden could only assume was some kind of meat. Whatever it was, Xaden was happy to eat it. He caught Sic looking at him as he ate and couldn’t help but pause.
“What is it?” he asked silently, praying to Zihnal that whatever food he just ate wasn't poisoned.
Siv jolted in his seat.
“It's nothing. I just—you're not what I expected.” Xaden raised a brow, a silent tell for Siv to continue.
“I just did not expect the son of a former council member to act the way you do.”
Siv said the words with a smile on his face, and Xaden couldn't help but return the gesture.
Once their plates were clean, Xaden extended his hand out to Siv, who just stared at it.
“Allies?’ Xaden asked.
The question hung in the air before Siv reached out and shook Xaden's hand with a smirk pulling at his lips.
“Alies.”