The room that Spindrall had claimed for himself, unlike the rest of the tomb, looked almost exactly like it had in the game. A small cul-de-sac, utilitarian lighting and durasteel grating providing the lighting and space required for the failed acolytes hiding here to train. And there were acolytes, a half-dozen of young men, working on sword forms or struggling to summon lightning against the training dummies. One, either foolish or more skilled than the others, was stepping into the small structure*[1] on the left hand side of the room. I watched as he gathered his courage and he passed through the door, vibrosword drawn and active.
Crimson light blazed as ray shielding snapped into place over both entrances to the structure, and then the six small turrets within opened fire. He blocked desperately, blade buzzing through the air as he tried to retreat, to place his back in a corner where he could focus on defending from but a single direction, but it was fruitless. The turrets tore him apart in under a minute, the lower intensity training bolts driving him to his knees and then his stomach, before battering his insensate body until even their weaker output overwhelmed his endurance.
A fool, then.
Ignoring his slightly smoldering, bloody and bruised corpse, Kory and I ascended the stairs slowly and solemnly, each of us aware that all our efforts with Cormun and (though we hadn't met him yet) Rigel were fruitless if Spindrall spoke against us.
"Slaves. Welcome to my humble hole." Spindrall greeted us the moment we finished ascending the stairs to the platform upon which he knelt, a seething cloak of the Dark Side wrapped around him, writhing and shifting in his meditations. It dissipated as he rose, breaking apart and fading away like a mist as he turned to face us, wizened features coming into view. "Here to learn the ways of the Sith from a doddering old fool hiding in a tomb, and to return to your Overseer with a sign of my approval."
"We are, despite Harkun's misgivings." I responded for the both of us, tilting my head to the side curiously as I met his eyes with my own. "It is strange, My Lord, that your eyes are so calm a shade of grey. I had thought a devotee of the Dark Side such as yourself, one that lives in a place so steeped in its power as this tomb, would have the same physical changes that all mighty Sith seem to experience. Even the paling of your skin and the lines that cross it seem more due to age than corruption."
"Ha! A bold slave, who comments on the features of a man who can condemn them to death, but no less bold than your previous actions upon this world and Dromuund Kaas alike. You amuse me, and so I shall answer your impertinent questions. Only those that are incapable of proper control, or those who draw too deeply on the Dark Side in a short time frame, lose themselves in the way you describe. Understandably, most Sith in the Empire are one or the other. I spend little time on the battlefield, so the second is not a concern for me, and my control is impeccable, so the first is equally irrelevant." He gave a raspy bark of laughter, and despite myself I could not restrain the blink of surprise at his knowledge. Knowing that we were here to be evaluated was one thing, requiring little talent in discernment or cleverness, but knowing who I was personally was another thing altogether. Catching the surprise, both with his eyes and The Force, he gave another bark of laughter. "I see many things that others cannot, and hear what they do not speak. There is a reason, despite the whining of Harkun and those like him, that I remain here and have the gravitas that I do. I know who you are, Vestara Khai. I know that Marr himself has sent you here, and I know that you have claimed the woman behind you as your whore and made use of her within these halls. Were it not for your butchery of those that sought to steal the relics of our Founding Lord, I might kill you for such defilement."
"I sought only to emulate what I know of the Sith, My Lord. My Kory is weaker than me, and so I took her for my own, made her mine. Received her submission and made sure she understood what it meant. This is what I saw the Sith of Dromuund Kaas do, and so I knew it was the right choice." I said quickly, inclining my head as my mind raced, cursing myself and my libido as Kory gave a soft whimper of distress behind me. It had never occurred to me, in my lust, that doing what we did would constitute as an offense, but of course it would. I can't imagine it would have gone over well if, had George Washington (for an example near and dear to my own heart) had a grand tomb, two people had entered it and started having kinky sex on the relics and decorative statues while covered in blood and gore.
"Hmph. There is a difference between the rest of the Empire. rest of the galaxy, and these sacred sands, but no matter. Your pet is weak, yes. Disgustingly weak. It is the way of the Sith, of the Empire, to submit yourself in mind and body to those superior to yourself. To surrender without a fight, however, to allow herself to be bent and bred like the whore she is without resistance…this is behavior worthy of those who serve the Sith, not Sith themselves. She does not deserve to stand in our halls as an acolyte, nor rise within our ranks." He didn't sneer, didn't scoff or spit in my plaything's direction, only spoke with cold, implacable certainty. "I will not give her my approval. Her life will, inevitably, be forfeit. Either when she follows you to Harkun's chambers, or when she is finally cornered and crushed like the mouse she is within the halls of this tomb."
I felt Kory's fear, and her resignation, as she pressed her face against my back. She had begun to have faith that I would save her life, believed that everything we had done proved that she was worthy of being Sith, and it was all being brought crashing down. My Kory was giving up, abandoning her desire to fight and live by the heartbeat.
I would not permit it.
"Kory is mine. I decide whether she lives or dies, and I say that she lives." I growled, squaring my shoulders and glaring at the old man before me, who merely raised an eyebrow at my aggressive defiance. "We have proven ourselves, passed your 'Trial of Blood', by destroying the slug nest, destroying the looters. Her submission to me, my ownership of her, does not diminish that!"
"You have killed many men and beasts since you entered this tomb, that is true, and she has offered you some assistance in that matter." Spindrall acknowledged, clasping his hands behind his back and pacing slightly before us as he took on a lecturing tone. "However, she did so only because of your promise to preserve her life. She would not have had the courage or the strength to do so without your hand clasping hers. To lack both initiative, and the strength to follow through on initiative, does not serve the future of the Sith. Nor does, I reiterate, submission without even the most token resistance. How can she be entrusted, in however small a part, with the future of our order if she is so easily broken? Even now, she hides behind you, cowers in your shadow!"
"I didn't break, I chose to submit! Vestara promised to teach me and protect me so long as I became hers. I made a bargain to my own benefit and advancement." Kory argued, poking her head out around me, a fierce look on her face that was honestly more cute than intimidating. "Giving up without gain isn't the way of the Sith, right? So, I figured out a way to succeed in spite of my limitations! I turned a hopeless situation around through using whatever tools I could!"
"Ah, the mouse bares her little fangs!" Spindrall remarked, pausing in his pacing and sounding distinctly amused as he regarded her. "Not the worst excuse for weakness that I have ever heard, certainly, but I am unconvinced. How will you fare, mouse, without your owner keeping you safely in her pocket, hmm? Will you pass this academy and be content to spend the rest of your life spreading your legs to purchase safety?"
"Not all Sith are like Lord Marr, meant to lead the battle from the front. There are those who work in the shadows, those that interrogate and question and watch. I look at Kory and see a great deal of potential, Spindrall. Small, soft, and sweet, easily unnoticed by those around her. Easy enough to ignore while secrets are shared or patrols are performed, easy to ignore long enough for her to get close and slide a blade into someone's heart or poison in their drink." I responded for her, Kory nodding in agreement, and Spindrall hummed in thought as he regarded her.
"What you say is true, and I admit that she is by appearance and behavior below notice, unremarkable and unmemorable. Ideal for both spying and assassination." He mused, and we both brightened at the appearance of success in our argument. A feeling that was quickly quashed as he continued. "Yet I have little confidence that she will last long enough to bring this plan of yours to fruition. So, you will buy her life in blood. Kill the Acolytes below, and I will give approval to Harkun for the both of you. Fail, and I will strangle the life out of your pet myself."
I clenched my jaw hard enough to hurt, but I honestly couldn't say that I was surprised. Spindrall likely believed that I was keeping Kory alive for her use as a whore, and nothing more. Given that I had bent her over a sarcophagus not an hour ago and that she was still dripping my cum from between her legs, I could hardly fault him for believing it. After all, the idea that I might have saved her because of a ten-line conversation from a video game, that I was inexplicably fond of her despite the brevity of that interaction, would have been unfathomable to him. And, for that matter, he wasn't entirely wrong. I fully intended for Kory's primary purpose to be as one of my lovers…which Kory would probably prefer to being an assassin or a spy.
"You have a bargain, Spindrall." I agreed coldly, turning away from him and reaching to the Force as I prepared to fight. I felt regret, for a moment, how easily the Dark Side responded to my call. How quickly it flowed through my veins, kindling battle-lust, and I had to consciously tamp down on more overt physical reactions. The Dark Side, I reflected once again, worked much like Pavlovian Conditioning. Linking pleasure with rage and hate and the causation of harm. Even worse, despite being aware of it, was the fact that I had no choice at this time but to wield it exclusively. I lacked the training to achieve victory in five-to-one odds against other acolytes, especially after fighting past the k'lor slugs and the tomb raiders, while also trying to balance my usage of the Force.
I descended the stairs like a stormcloud, heading directly for the acolytes, (each and every one of whom was a moderately-built male human, almost painfully generic in appearance and presence within the Force), all of whom had heard Spindrall's pronouncements and were gathering together in order to fight me, exchanging words with one another as they regarded me. Well, I wasn't inclined to give them a chance to plan their attack, nor was I inclined to spend anymore time in this tomb than I absolutely had to.
I lashed out at the left-most of their number before I even reach the landing, lightning pouring from my hands. He attempted to block, of course, but even lightsabers struggled to block properly aimed and empowered Force Lightning. The vibrosword, which was not even a military-grade weapon like my own, might as well not even have been present for all the good that it did him. He collapsed, screaming, as his muscles and nerves ceased to function properly, misfiring or shutting down entirely under the barrage of high-voltage eldritch energy. I cut the energy off and charged, confident that he would be out of the fight for the time being, and shoulder-checked the next man in line, knocking him to the ground.
A tingle in the Force warned me and I turned, blade coming up just in time to catch the next acolyte's attack on its length. Our blades pressed together as we pitted our strength against one another. Fortunately for me, his malnourishment from hiding in the tomb for God knows how long left his muscles in only slightly better shape than my own 'only-recently-freed-from-slavery' musculature, which meant he couldn't overpower me as quickly as he might have had he been healthier.
The man I had shoulder checked stirred, hand scrabbling for his weapon as he attempted to stand, and I took a moment to look down and stomp on his throat, crushing his larynx and thoroughly removing him from the fight as his eyes bulged in shock and fear. Had he the ability to keep calm and use the Force to slow his oxygen expenditure or reopen the damaged pathway, he might have been able to save himself.
He was neither, and immediately began panicking and clawing at his throat.
The distraction of dealing with him, however, cost me. The other two acolytes, unengaged thus far, had spread out to flank the one with whom I was blade-locked. While the one to my left was distracted by the flailing figure at my feet, the one on my right had no such issues, and swung his vibroblade at me. A panicked thrust with the Force diverted it from anything instantly fatal, but I gave a short scream of pain as it scored a searing gash across my thigh instead. Desperate, I channeled Force Lightning again, but this time using my sword and that of my enemy as a conduit. He was quick on the uptake, jerking away before he got more than a painful jolt, but it bought me the time I needed to fall back and regain my balance.
I was injured now, my mobility reduced, which put me at a disadvantage. Something my enemies were clearly aware of, as all three were advancing towards me radiating sick satisfaction and anticipation. Given their dedication to engaging me in melee, however, I was confident in saying that that my talents with sorcery were beyond their own. All I needed was the time to tip the odds in my favour, and I knew just how to get it. My tattoos flared as I gathered power, the three across from me hesitating as they sensed it blooming within the Force. Expecting another blast of lightning, the two on the flanks dived sideways in an effort to avoid it while the one in the middle charged in an effort to stop me.
This left him quite unprepared and off balance when my overpowered Push caught him in the chest and hurled him across the room, right into the blaster-defense training dome that I had spotted on the way in. The whine of the blaster turrets beginning their work was a welcome one as I selected my next target, giving the left-side acolyte a short blast of lightning to keep him at bay as I picked up one of the fallens' weapons and hurled it at the right-side acolyte as fast as I could persuade the Force to move it. It embedded itself in his stomach, leaving him a screaming mess on the ground, and I clashed blades with the final acolyte.
"For a former slave, you're not doing too badly. Perhaps, once I kill you, Spindrall will let me keep your little pet as a plaything." He hissed, pushing me back a step with a surge of strength and giving my thigh wound a rapid punch. I screamed in mingled pain and anger as the leg gave out, and screamed again as his blade cut through my robes to leave another wound across my chest, my blade clattering away across the stones. He stood over my kneeling form, eyes alight with sadistic glee as he raised his blade again. "Die knowing that I'll rape that cute whore of yours on top of your corpse."
Was this really it? Was I really about to die to a literal trash mob, all my dreams and goals for nothing, my plans shadows and dust on the wind? Was I nothing more than a deluded fool, who believed that they could change the galaxy?
Was I really so weak, so worthless, without Kallig aiding me? Was I truly nothing without him?
I looked over at Kory, saw and felt the fear and pain and affection for me in her, the resignation that she was about to watch me die, and that she would soon follow. Was I going to allow that, allow her to die after I had sworn to protect her, convinced her that I could save her life? Was I going to give up here, after surviving Luwian, seducing Nicky, impressing Marr?
No.
The word reverberated through my mind, deep and decisive and full of wrath. My power coiled around me, the Force answering my call as I gathered myself for one final effort. The acolyte's blade began to fall, determined to end me before I could raise my own to defend myself. I looked up at him, dominant arm protectively cradling my wounded torso, and squared my shoulders as I met his eyes and opened my mouth. But I was not going to plea for my life, nor spit insults in defiance of death. Instead, I did something else entirely.
I screamed.
The sound filled the air and the Force both, a high-pitched, echoing wail, like that of a banshee. The wave of Force-enhanced decibels slammed into him like a fist, visibly distorting the air between us, and he reeled away with a scream of his own, clutching his ears as blood began flow from his burst eardrums, his nose staining his face red as he clenched his suddenly blurry eyes closed. Stumbling over the body of the man whose throat I had crushed and falling onto his back, he writhed on the ground, screaming obscenities in between wordless howls of pain as I called my vibrosword back to my hand. I rose, slowly and painfully, the tip of the weapon dragging on the ground as I half-stumbled, half-shuffled over to him.
My first attempt at finishing him off failed, my blade piercing his shoulder rather than his heart, and my next two were hardly better. In all, it took five tries to finish him off, and another two to kill the still-paralyzed man I had attacked first. My task complete, I turned for the stairs, slowly and painfully making my way towards the peak.
"Well done, if not flawlessly, but I suppose a flawless victory is a bit much to expect from a slave fresh off the shuttle. Even one with your background. Your talent with sorcery is impressive, far superior to your talent with a blade, but given your past, this is to be expected. That scream, in particular, was an excellent move, if one made in desperation. Refine it, and it may prove quite beneficial in close quarters." Spindrall remarked as my bloody, battered body finally reached the top of the stairs, Kory instantly coming to my side, fluttering about anxiously as she tried to figure out how to help me without inadvertently causing more harm. After examining me for a moment, the old man gave a grunt of what seemed to be satisfaction and looked at my companion. "Stop hovering, little mouse. Go down to the bunking area and search the first and fourth lockers. Bring the stimulants and medical supplies you find there back at once."
Kory looked like she wanted to protest at first, but the moment 'medical supplies' left his mouth she was off down the stairs, eager to lend a helping and healing hand with my injuries. It was only right, after all, given that I had sustained the aforementioned injuries fighting to preserve her life. I started shrugging off my shirt, slowly and painfully, paying the old man's presence no mind, as I waited for her to return.
"She may serve you well, Acolyte, but do not think for a moment that others will be so amenable to bargains as I." Spindrall remarked, folding his hands behind his back and regarding me with an air that could just barely qualify as curiosity. "It will be interesting to see how you manage to keep her alive through the rest of your trials and into your apprenticeship."
"You've my thanks for your confidence in my ability to claim Lord Zash's apprenticeship for myself." I grunted in response as Kory rushed up the stairs behind me and started working on my wounds, putting kolto patches on some and spraying a thin coating on others. "Since I doubt it is due to my devastating power and vast talent, I don't suppose you would tell me why?"
"You are cheeky, brat, but amusing." Spindrall responded with a light, genuinely amused chuckle. "The acolyte Ffon Althe sought my advice and confirmation over the information you gave to him, confirmation that I provided. With him seeking a different Lord to serve, you are all but assured to earn Zash's apprenticeship. None of the others, together or apart, have the ability to contend with you. Even if you lacked the greater knowledge and training that you possess from your time belonging to Lord Luwian, you would outmatch them. Now, begone from this place, lest more failed acolytes arrive and take your mouse from you. You will find the way forward quite clear, thanks to Althe and the rest of the acolytes belonging to your pool and that of Baras."
"Thank you, Lord Spindrall." We murmured together, bowing as he turned away, having dismissed us from his interest the moment he had finished speaking. He did not deign to respond, nor to even look at us as we departed his abode. My last sight of him before the stone walls blocked my view was the cloud of Dark Side energy coalescing around him once more as he returned to his meditations.
[1] *Most people probably never noticed it, since it wasn’t where Spindrall was or where you fight the acolytes, but this object is actually in the game. If you walk into it, you can actually see the small turrets I’m talking about. It doesn’t do anything, but given that Spindrall’s area is all about failed acolytes trying to redeem themselves, a blaster-defense-trainer (the Sith version, of course) seems to be the most probable explanation for it.