The Dark Academy on Korriban

Eternal frontier?

Well, not quite. The Galaxy was big enough to let most of its inhabitants to be a little coreward. And Korriban may have been in the Outer Rim, but still quite non-frontierly. Moyr didn't feel she was pushing any boundary here. She had no sense of new beginning. Just another point up the spiral.

She took her lekko over her shoulder to the front and stroked it gently in an act of pleasant self-stimulation of memories. Her mind strode toward all the lanes she had traversed ever since the flight from Arkanis. Tapes wrapping her legs stretched as she shifted her body weight though the pleasant view of it was obscured for any watcher-from-behind because of the long cloak cast over her revealing cloth-like wear.

Zeno strode into the observation deck, his finely cut and tailored clothing nearly as black as the void outside. The sight of the alien drew his attention amid the relatively empty background. He approached with gentle, graceful footfalls that were not inaudible but suggested someone that carried themself with poise. As he came to a stop a bit farther than arms length to her side he looked out into the mostly empty system.

After a moment he spoke up. "I find the emptiness between stars comforting."

"So do I. I like expanse. But a purrgil swarm could give our pilots and us some thrill."

She mused, adding an image to the voice by a sidelong glance.

"When you fall into a flock, killing any is your death with anything less than a corvette. You have to drift for a time as if you were one of them."

"I've only flown among them once, when I was fifteen. Got in the way of a perfectly good training exercise," he says with a shrug. "Though it was a unique experience for sure."

He looks over to the woman, his eyes dispassionate. "Zeno Deathwright."

"We had sixteen starfighters, but most pilots were not trained well enough yet and the carrier was not designed for battle so we just let them fly through rather than eliminating them."

"Moyr Ahaya."

The lekku undulated slightly at introduction, something that carried meaning only in her native language.

"But have you seen much battle since then?"

Looking back out at the empty expanse, Zeno watches the nothingness. "I've yet to do battle against republic forces. I've had very few combat engagements and they've all been against pilots scheduled for execution. My family regularly uses such individuals for training purposes. They are granted stay of execution for as long as they continue winning and are given relatively comfortable lives within their holding facilities as a means to motivate them to fight to the best of their abilities. I've performed a dozen executions during my training. It's not the same as pitched combat but Deathwright pilot training is the most unforgiving pilot training in the empire."

He shrugs. "Much like what Korriban is to the Sith training, though certainly significantly less prestigious. My training has consumed my time and I've not been to the front lines yet. Only a matter of time though..."

She pondered the similarities between Deathwright training and her own situation for a moment.

"Were those encounters deathmatches or group hunts? Are the convicts given fair odds, comparable craft?"

“Overseer Harkun,” Lord Zash said to the holographic image formed from the communicator in her hand, “I am already in system. I should be there by the end of the day can this not wait till I arrive?”

Harkun for his part agreed reluctantly and said, “Of course my Lord, but I just wanted to reassure you that you would be impressed with the potentials I have gathered.”

“I am sure they will be sufficient, now transfer me to Overseer Tremel,” she said warmly but with finality on the subject. Harkun nodded and did as requested the holographic image changing to a dark skinned and clean cut human.

Overseer Tremel smiled broadly and said, “Lord Zash, it is a pleasure as always.”

Zash gave a warm reply, “Have you seen to organizing the shipment of my effects, Tremel?”

“Of course and might I add I am looking forward to receiving you personally. I am told you are looking for a new apprentice, I was desolated that you did not enlist me in your search,” he said with a cool demeanor.

“I did not want to burden you, Tremel. You have been a great help with assembling my museum and research,” she replied already seeing where Tremel wanted this conversation to go.

“You reach out to Harkun, but not an old dear friend? I feel wounded, I thought we were close,” he responded carefully.

“It was not meant to offend, Tremel. I will be planet side soon, if you wish to discuss this further we can do so then. Thank you for your service,” Zash responded. She ended the communication, not out of any inherent malice but to avoid the eventual advances she would have to endure. Tremel was a good sort but since the passing of his wife, he had grown a bit… attached to the idea of her person.

It was amusing at least and gave her a string at which to tug. She turned her attention to the endless sea of black with pinpricks of light, the brightest of which was Horuset, the star that gave light to Korriban. It had been two years since she had been back to Korriban, and yet in some ways it was as if she never left.

"All participants in such training are given specific roles and craft for the training appropriate. And the convicts tend to be given advantage. In general they tend to kill more trainees than the other way around. That is why any unit is considered fortunate to receive a Deathwright recruit or support from a Deathwright squadron. We come already blooded and capable. Those that aren't don't make it out of training alive," he explains to the alien, apparently not holding any contempt or sense of superiority.

Sylvain walked down the observation deck with his holopad withdrawn. He appeared to be typing some type of a message when he came aware of a figure a few feet in front of him looking out into space.

Looking up Sylvain bowed slightly. He immediately recognized Lord Zash. She had often been the talk of older boys at the academy when he arrived two years ago. Her absence was often lamented by many who had always 'enjoyed' her presence on the school grounds.

Stopping at a polite distance, Sylvain put away his holopad and bowed respectfully, "Good evening Lady. Impressive scene is it not?"

She stroked her lekku again, laying the other hand on her hip, presumably to keep the cloak obscuring her silhouette in place.

"That's quite ingenious. Much better fate that what many Sith are consigned to on Belsavis."

She turned to regard the youth speaking to her, not that she looked much older herself. She smiled and turned her attention to the view, “Out there in that sea of black is the home world of the Sith, from here it cannot be seen but I can feel it reverberate through the Force.”

She laughed lightly and added, “And aspirant, the proper term is Lord, lady would be for a noble woman.” There was no malice in her voice, it was light as she added, “Have you been to Korriban, or were you trained off world?”

He nods. "It keeps us sharp and ensures quality pilots for the fleets. We've been in the business in producing the best pilots since our founder proved her worth to the empire centuries ago. We're not as politically influential as other noble houses but we get resources and backing from the empire because we produce results. It is the family's singular focus. Though I am outside the standard process due to my father's blood and my ability with the force. I completed that training while simultaneously tutoring under a former sith academy instructor. If I make it through that I'll be able to claim graduation from two of the most deadly training programs in the empire." There's a hint of pride in his voice, clearly not conceit.

Sylvain bowed slightly in apology, "I'm sorry Lord, seeing one with such grace and youth I must have assumed you were a noble. I'm just coming from Dromund Kaas, and must have noble interaction on the brain."

He then smiled and nodded slightly, "I've been training at Korriban for most of the past two years. My name is Sylvain Torsin."

He then paused briefly before asking, "Might you be Lord Zash then? I had heard she was returning to Korriban for the Tests."

She nodded in response to his question that she was indeed Lord Zash. She replied lightly, “I had hardly thought any would notice my return. So aspirant what are your thoughts on the home world of the Sith? You have tread upon sacred ground, breathed the very air of our ancestors.”

“Or is it still the same dead world hoarding all its secrets,” she said lightly watching his response closely.

He smiled, "Your absence would not be missed by anyone of importance Lord Zash."

He nodded contemplatively, "That is a poignant question Lord. Ever since I arrived, I could feel the impressive presence of so many who have gone on before. Their power, strength, and passion was at first somewhat ominous. But as I have paid attention to their examples and calling I have begun to feel more at... 'home' than I would have thought possible."

He then paused, "Korriban's secrets are only hidden from those who are unwilling or unable to pursue them. It has been my duty and privilege to exert myself in the process of unraveling as many secrets as I can."

She let the compliment go focusing on his latter words and replied inquisitively, “And what has Korriban revealed to you? What secrets have you pried from its crimson soil?” She crossed her arms and lightly tapped her chin as she waited for his reply.

He replied, "In a phrase? The true nature of the Code."

He elaborated, "Conflict forces one to better oneself. Korriban relentlessly forces one to change, grow, adapt, evolve or... perish."

His face had a steely resolve displayed to the Lord, "While my family is of military stock, my roots as a child pushed me to find better and more efficient means of achieving the goals of the Empire. The dark side is the pinnacle of all power in the galaxy, to ignore it or to become too entrenched in one's own system of doing things is to bring on one's own destruction. Every circumstance, every being, every tool has a use and a means of victory that must be seized by one with the strength of body and mind to do so."

He then added, "Korriban has taught me what my limitations are, and through negotiating those limitations... has provided the means whereby I may break the chains that hold me back from accomplishing all that I could."

She nodded at his response then turned inward and said, “Your father is the Minister of War, do you seek to follow his path and direct the War or more likely is the future too far away to really begin to see what you wish to be? Beyond becoming Sith, of course.”

"Practicality would suggest that pursuing a similar path as my father may be apropos, but ultimately I do not wish to place any limits on what I may accomplish in life. My intent is to acquire the strength to build the Empire to the point that we may spread our control and order across the galaxy. If that be by engaging in conflict like my father has, subverting the efforts of the Republic through negotiation and deception, or by strengthening the Empire from within, there are many ways in which I can accomplish my aims."

His resolve didn't waver as he spoke with the Lord. His tone was not one of overconfidence, but of one who knew what he wanted but cognizant of what his limitations were at this moment.

"But the Force may actually turn out helpful for piloting a starfighter, may it not?"

Moyr squinted her ear-cones to catch something from the other conversation by the eye on the cosmos.

"You seem to be a very focused man, Lord Deathwright."

“You have a great deal insight and focus, I look forward to seeing if that amounts to success for you, aspirant. The training will hopefully test you and push you to greater aptitude,” she said in response.

“Just remember to free yourself from the chains of old thinking. We should look to the past to understand where we came from and not to become bound by stagnant ideas. Change is inevitable,” she said turning her eyes to the view.

“Even if we cannot see it.”

Sylvain smiled and nodded, "I have been taught that, there is nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success, than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things."

He smiled, "But to refrain from doing something because it is intimidating or ominous is the cowards way of dealing with the world. If there is more strength to be had, a greater way of accomplishing one's goals... one must have the courage to look at all the possibilities and select the one that will lead to the best result."

He cupped his hands behind his back before continuing, "Your willingness to seek for a greater Empire, one that will overcome the weaknesses of its past, is inspiring. I will strive be able to become the focused and adaptable Sith you hope I will become."

Then finally he added, "I must mention that my mother sends her regards. She was fond of the dress you wore to an Imperial gathering a while back and hired on your designer in hopes of finding something that, as she puts it, 'Melds to me as well as it did to her'. So far she's been disappointed."

"It absolutely will. And that is something I will be working towards in my study of the dark side." He pays no heed to the other conversation. It wasn't his and he didn't really care about it at the moment. "My goal is to become a force to be reckoned with and that takes time, effort and focus. I will rule my house and bring power and fury to bear against the Republic."

Lord Zash gave a light laugh, which only accentuated her youthful nature. She had to recall the gown and then agreed that it had been quite successful at turning heads, perhaps too much so. She responded warmly, “If I recall your mother was stately in appearance and well attended to, I’m impressed that she even remembered me. If my tailor has been less than forthcoming with a solution to her request I might have to give him proper motivation.”

“The elite of the Empire must not settle. I know a few names that might be better suited to her needs.” It would take ages to replace her tailor and having the family disposed of because someone wanted to copy her style would make for a rather poor day. It could take months to find a replacement.