Star Wars: Slave Of Darkness

"Did anyone die while I was gone?"

A soft woof of denial was my answer. The sound didn't carry far beyond us.

It was still a little…no. It was very unnerving how easily Gaarurra could disappear when he did not wish to be found and it seemed he had only gotten better during my brief absence. The only reason I knew he was there was because he allowed me to.

"Pity. It seems the field remains rather broad then." I commented, "Still, it seems that Scriver has not quite realized my connection with Maklan and his men. 

He seemed the type who would punish the troops for the actions of an infiltrator. Hopefully, his apprentice will remain more reasonable."

That was an unfortunately common trait among the Sith, one that I found personally distasteful. You didn't spite someone that was performing a service for you, especially when it was performed willingly. It was a good way to end up dead.

As the saying went, always be nice to the help.

I pursed my lips as I thought of another possibility, "Although, it could be that he's simply too distracted by his archaeological find to bother with them."

Gaarurra didn't have anything to say on the matter, though I was mostly speaking my thoughts out loud rather than expecting a reply. He wasn't as versed as I was on Sith history and thus did not completely grasp the magnitude of the find.

Hakagram Graush was the last Sith King before the species was enslaved by the Dark Jedi Exiles. While his death was ignominious, it spoke volumes of his personal power that they were forced to assassinate him rather than face the king in direct combat. 

When we opened that tomb, something very ancient, extremely powerful, and incredibly angry had been awakened.

For all the power unleashed in that last strike, I doubted that it had done more than temporarily disperse his spirit. I'd have to operate under the assumption that he was still around, if momentarily knocked out of action.

Still, if Graush and Scriver could keep each other occupied, more power to them. It would be one less issue for me to deal with. I had enough enemies as it was.

Speaking of issues, I had some research to do to deal with my current problem. Darth Rictus hadn't given me a timeline with which to complete my final trial, but I doubted that he wanted to be kept waiting. I also assumed that he didn't want me to be caught doing it.

I felt my jaw crack as a massive yawn forced my mouth open.

…Perhaps the research could wait until I'd gotten a good night's sleep.

...

After slipping down to Qiv's former hideaway and conking out for a solid eight hours, I got to work with a refreshed mind hashing out ideas.

The first thing I needed was to regain access to my droid spy network. The solution, as it turned out, was simple. At the time I lost it, I had been panicking. Reacting, not thinking.

My will overwhelmed the virus Darth Rictus had placed in the terminal. Relatively speaking, it wasn't complex, merely designed to lock it down.

I didn't destroy the virus though. After all, I didn't like to waste what I could potentially find a use for later. As it was, I could think of more than a few right this instant. Instead, I isolated the virus and placed it into a separate datachip before disconnecting the device and slipping it into a pocket.

With the virus removed, I was able access Qiv's files once more and begin reviewing the stored up camera footage.

Supposedly, there were two Jedi in my training group and they would be my biggest threats. A quick search of the dossiers quickly revealed the first: Olia Fen.

She was already enough of a pain in the ass to begin with. Now it turned out that she had actually been trained before the academy?

Fucking. Wonderful.

Another mental flick caused the probe droids to scurry throughout the entire academy via the ventilation system, searching for the current locations of all the acolytes.

I frowned as I noticed one missing, "Olia has not returned to the academy?"

Behind me, Gaarurra stopped pacing and shook his head.

Damn. I couldn't deal with her immediately and she could return at any time.

I eyed the frozen image of Kalista's face. Still, Olia's absence provided other opportunities. But before that, I needed to pin down who the second Jedi was before I started laying down a plan of action.

Darth Rictus had implied that the second Jedi was still here on Korriban, which knocked Qiv out of the running as he was long gone and I sincerely doubted it would be him even if he were still here. There had been too much honest fear and ineptitude there to be faked. Gaarurra was not the Jedi either.

The twins had solid, established backgrounds deep in Imperial space as former slaves from Dromund Kaas. Besides, there was only one other Jedi, not two.

That left Kalista and Garsh.

The former's documented background did have her listed as the slave of a Republic-aligned crime lord. Well, former crime lord as he was dead now, supposedly at the Twi'lek's hands. However, Olia had gone to her, not the other way around.

The latter…

I paused.

What about the latter?

I ignored the dossier page flickering on the screen before me and leaned back to think on it.

When was the last time I had actually thought about Garsh? After the first trial, he'd stuck to my shadow like a leech. But after that, he just sort of…faded from my attention before disappearing entirely.

As I wracked my memories, I realized that it had been weeks since I had interacted with the Quarren or even seen him.

I pulled up the stored camera footage again and mentally commanded it to begin searching for any footage containing Garsh.

There were hundreds of hours of recordings, with some gaps here and there from when he left the academy grounds. Most were of him meditating or practicing in the training hall, away from everyone else.

He spent a lot of time around the twins, training with both of them in the late hours of the day. As I reviewed the footage, I picked out that he favored Terrak over his sister. In fact, he seemed almost wary of Ianna and didn't meet with her unless her brother was around.

I had distantly known about this connection, this…pseudo-alliance they seemed to have had going. In light of my most recent run-ins with Darth Rictus, I thought I had a pretty good guess as to why I had never looked into it before now.

Being on the receiving end of a Mind Trick was unpleasant once you realized it happened. To realize your actions had been influenced without your knowledge and memories erased. The loss of control.

There is nothing. Only me.

Something in my head finally snapped. It had been steadily weakening for a while until it finally broke. The haze that had been obscuring my thoughts whenever they turned towards Garsh cleared.

What replaced it was cold rage. Gaarurra could feel it and he shifted uncomfortably behind me.

Garsh could have killed me but didn't. I'd show him that was a mistake.

I would not be influenced -controlled- like that again.

Grudgingly, I had to acknowledge that Darth Rictus had imparted a lesson onto me, whether it was intentional or not. Without the experience of dealing with him, I wouldn't have noticed that Garsh had done something too.

I returned my attention to the dossier for a moment, before closing it in disgust. I had to assume that everything on there was either wrong or useless, so I would have to collect my own information and construct my own dossier.

But I had my answer.

Garsh was the second Jedi. On top of that, I was certain he was a Jedi Shadow.

And now, I had a new question. Who did I go after first? Did I take down Kalista and weaken Olia's support before she returned? Or did I deal with the immediate threat of Garsh and the twins?

I spent another hour watching footage of each acolyte before coming to a conclusion.

Why not both? I had the means, after all.

Some time ago, I came across a rather interesting scroll in the archives while searching through the material Lord Thanaton had helpfully recommended. I had been surprised it was there, well within reach of ambitious novice acolytes with plenty of rivals that needed disposing of.

I'd made copies of it, obviously.

It wasn't a particularly complex ritual, or at least no more than anything I had used before. There was danger, of course, but all Sith Magic had some element of danger to it. 

It wasn't particularly powerful either and was easily overcome by anyone that had some idea of what they were facing.

Because of that it was practically useless against Garsh and Olia themselves, who had no doubt received some training from the Jedi in dealing with Sith Magic. However, the others had neither the experience nor the ability. Or at least not to my knowledge.

Which was why I wasn't going to rely solely on it. It would take time to gather the materials for the ritual and set it all up. In the meantime, I could start laying the groundwork for other schemes.

"I'm going to need a lot of blood." I finally said out loud, "Preferably not mine."

Gaarurra looked askance at me.

"Oh, not yours either. We'll probably go Tu'kata hunting again." I quickly assured him, "But I'm going to need your help with something else, too."

This next part was going require some careful timing…

...

She smiled, watching the other acolyte's face scrunch up in pain as he clutched at his chest in vain. It was her second victim this week and the sixth that month, but the thrill had yet to fade.

She knew she had changed that day in the tunnel. Part of her had been horrified. But the rest had been excited at the possibilities.

No longer was she the meek prey, but rather the predator. Where once there was fear, only satisfaction and joy remained.

Oh, she played the part well enough to continue to draw in the unsuspecting. She even enjoyed the act, playing them for fools by plucking at their sense of superiority. The ones who fell for it were the kind that truly deserved it and neither the galaxy nor the Empire would miss them.

She watched him expire before leaving. The cleaning droids would find his body soon and it wouldn't do to be found nearby when they did.

Still riding off the thrill, she was practically walking on air as she made her way back to her dorm. A questioning pulse came across the bond, making her realize she was projecting too much across it.

Terrak was wondering why she was so happy. She reluctantly reigned in her side and sent back a reassuring sensation to assuage him.

Satisfied, he allowed his end to drop for the moment. Her lip curled up unconsciously as she quickly figured out why.

Her brother was with that squid again.

A surge of hot anger boiled in her gut, though she was careful not to let it leak across the bond. Her brother was spending more time with that other acolyte than with her. Her! His own sister!

They were supposed to stick together. Survive the academy together! Rescue their mother!

But she felt like they'd been pulling apart more and more ever since Garsh got involved. The bond was still there, yes, but they relied on it less and less. Sometimes she'd go for days without feeling anything.

She knew Garsh didn't like her, but there was more than that. She'd gotten used to fear, both in feeling it and in wielding it. She knew he was afraid of her.

A year ago, she might have laughed at anyone that thought that someone would be afraid of meek little Ianna. Now, it brought a smile to her face.

Just before she pressed the key to open the door, she paused.

A shiver raced across her skin, as though a cold breeze had passed by. The academy did have climate controls inside of the building, but it was usually kept only a few degrees cooler than it was outside.

Before her, the door opened on its own, allowing light to filter into the dark room.

She stood frozen in the doorway.

Yellow eyes stared back unblinkingly at her own, its owner's face drawn into a calm, neutral expression even as the ghastly web of durasteel pulled at the skin on the right side. Gauntlet-clad hands were clasped loosely in his lap, his dark-armored left boot placed up on his right knee.

She barely noticed the gleam of the lightsaber on his belt.

Her heart dared to thud in her chest against her will as the old and familiar feeling of fear seeped into her mind.

She had become a predator, but in her ecstasy at that change, she had forgotten that there were greater predators above her.

He didn't move, didn't say a word, didn't draw on the Force. Yet, she felt a compulsion slam against her mind relentlessly, screaming OBEY again and again, nearly deafening her to all else.

Because of that, she nearly missed it when he spoke at last.

"Please. Come in."

His voice was quiet, even, and non-threatening. Deep in tone, yet far softer than she had expected. The small, still-rational part of her mind tried to remember if she had ever heard him speak before.

But the fear-ridden majority overruled everything else and she instinctively tried to resist the compulsion, locking her legs in place.

The Spider sighed and glanced to her left, "Gaarurra, if you would assist her, please?"

Out of the darkness emerged the towering frame of his ever-present shadow, looming over her. The sudden appearance of the massive acolyte caused her heart to skip a beat of its now-rapid pace. Large, claw-tipped fingers wrapped around her upper arms before the shaggy alien physically lifted her off the ground and pulled her inside.

Absently, she heard the door close and lock behind her, dropping her into complete darkness. As her feet touched the ground once more, the Spider spoke again.

"Ianna."

A renewed chill of terror shot down her spine as she realized that this…thing knew her name.

"You and I need to have a talk about a common enemy."

====================

The first book of this fanfic has been completed on Patreon, you can look it up in the collection alongside the second book. You can visit Patreon if you want to read in Advance.

 [email protected]/Rage_moon