The Dark Academy on Korriban

It was a busy night in the sixes.

Jo'ren hadn't been back since meeting up here with Xevine and Gerry, which seemed like a very long time ago now. He swept in and looked around, half expecting to see Veers again. Nothing yet, and he wasn't going to sense for her. He preferred his blood inside his skin. Instead he walked over to the bar, creating a space by looming over some Imperials.

Choosing not to recreate his previous visit he ignored anyone else that he might have known there, ordered a pint of what passed for Korriban ale, and leaned on the bar while he waited for it to arrive. Absently he wondered if Jaina Von ever came in here, but he had never seen her anywhere but in the Training Yard. He pulled out his communicator, half expecting to find a message there, half hoping not to. Then the beer turned up and he focused on it instead.

There was no dramatic entrance. Just... an entrance. At least, at first. Nobody really payed attention to Layne as she headed for the bar. But a minute later an argument seemed to erupt.

"You still owe me from la--"

"Fuck off. Give me something to drink."

"L-look..."

"No, I don't want to look. I want something to drink."

"I j-just can't give you something after tha--"

"Either give me something to drink, or everything in here breaks. Again."

"..."

"That's better."

He looked over as the minor altercation broke out. It was mercifully brief. He recognised the cause from that night after the orientation exams. The beer wasn't great, but he didn't really care. The point was that it was still in his hand and had not shattered, despite the presence of the notorious glass destroyer of the #66. He raised it in Layne's general direction and nodded, then spoke to the barman.

"Good choice."

Now the fuck what...

She turned to face whoever it was that thought to be glib...

...and found herself glaring at Jo'ren.

She knew who he was, of course. She also knew she didn't like him. Not that that necessarily said much; there were a lot of people she didn't like.

He just stared right back at her, apparently unconcerned and sipping his beer. Jo'ren didn't need to activate his Sense abilities to know what she was most likely thinking. Thing was, he didn't care either, so there was a bit of an impasse in the not giving a fuck department. He just savoured the beer in the unbroken glass, because you never knew how long that was going to be your reality.

She thought about how to deal with the situation. Demanding to know what he was staring at was the old fan favorite. Walking over and surprise-kicking him in the nuts was an entertaining notion. There was the 'keep-glaring-until-one-of-us-looks-away' option. Then there was the option of just outright insulting him a couple of dozen times. Picking up a glass and throwing it at him just to see how he'd react was also considered.

But that was all just fantasy. She had better things to do than make yet another enemy for no good reason. She already had enough people on her list. So instead she opted for a simple breaking of the stalemate.

"What?"

Well, that was refreshingly different to what he was expecting. He set the beer glass on the counter and studied her a moment. "I'm having a beer on my own Layne Hoshin. Guessing that's your plan too." He pointed past her toward the doors. "Better lines of sight on this side of the bar." He raised the glass and sipped again.

Better lines of sight? What a tool.

"Worried someone will come in and kill you if you're not paying any attention? Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Jo'ren looked at her, raised an eyebrow, and then sighed with disappointment. "You don't need to play your game with me Layne." He sipped his beer and shrugged. "I don't give a fuck. I do enjoy people watching while I'm drinking though, and the view is better on this side."

He raised a hand before she could respond. "If we're both over here then it'll be quiet. And I'll shut the fuck up."

Because who was going to look for conversation with an intense-looking sith and a loudmouthed brat?

Well, at least he's not pulling a Zeno. That counts for something.

"Alright," she said after a moment and sat down at his table/area of the bar. "I would've thought goldenboy would be drinking Corellian Merlot."

That was better. Once Layne had sat next to him people actively started avoiding their area of the bar. He took another mouthful of the beer and squinted at her a little.

"Goldenboy? You're looking for Khalim, or that Deathwright guy." He took another swig and raised his hand to the barkeep for another. "Wine all tastes the same after the first glass."

"Deathwright is a tool. And I don't even know who this Khalim fellow is."

Well, she'd probably recognize his face. Maybe. But the name? Not so much.

The empty glass was placed on the bar as he finished the first beer of the night.

"Never met Deathwright. Khalim's the other big sith."

His eyes crossed the room to an Imperial officer who filled out her uniform rather nicely, then back to the newly poured beer.

"Yeah right," she said, "whatever. I bet you lot have like a secret club house and everything."

The second beer was as average as the first. He took a mouthful and slowly rolled it around to see if there was any extra hidden taste. There was not.

"Sure, it's right next to where you meet up with the Emperor's Wrath for milk and cookies, or tea and scones."

Jo'ren looked at Layne with a cool, detached air. "I've never met Deathwright. I hear he's a tool though." It sounded a lot like something Jaina Von would say, in tone if not content. Then again, he had been spending a lot of time with her of late.

Another few moments passed and he smiled slightly and took another sip.

"He's more of a biscuits kind of guy."

She took a sip from her own drink.

"And there's a lot of tools in this academy."

The big sith nodded and took another swig. There were indeed tools-a-plenty. It seemed to be a major drawback of the current Sith model. Then again they were all tools of the powerful now.

"No question."

"You're all so eager to salute and serve," she said, "so desperate to impress. That guy you seemed to hang out with all the time... Gerald... yeah him. He seemed the most eager of all. Look where it got him."

"Gerald Hin believed in the Empire, and was murdered for his trouble." Another sip of lukewarm beer. "And don't give me that 'you're all <whatever> life's so unfair' whiny bullshit."

He looked over at her. "You're graduating, you've got a black lightsaber, and people think you're a hard ass. Buck the fuck up."

He returned to his beer and took a long sip.

She glared at him. "He died because he was the sort of guy who let himself get manipulated. He welcomed it, even. And you know it. There's a lot of people around here like that."

Perhaps surprisingly the big guy nodded. "Yep. That's all true Layne. I kept telling him to look out for himself first, but he was too trusting."

"Never did hear exactly how he died anyhow."

Jo'ren sipped his beer and looked out across the bar at the people walking around. He wondered how many of them knew or cared that Lord Zash was a monster who preserved herself by stealing the life and power of others.

"If you believe the official story he died helping Lord Zash uncover some powerful lost Sith Lore.". From his tone it was rather clear that Jo'ren did not believe that story in the slightest.

"And what do you believe?"

"That Gerald was not the first and won't be the last.". He spotted some more beer. "Anyone working with her is either complicit or about to meet a fucking nasty end. Maybe both."