"Thank the gods!" Serena breathed as I stepped into our shared quarters. She looked like she had been pacing before our window, wringing her hands in worry. She flew towards me and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me into a rare hug. She smelled like vanilla and warmth. I sighed into her embrace and hugged her back. My friend, my only friend. I was so relieved to be away from the others, the ones that looked at me like I was a dead woman walking. Jealous hags.

After I had bowed to my Master, Darth Reave instructed me to gather my effects and meet him in the hangar at the top level of the academy. Usually, visiting sith kept their starships at the landing pad a kilometer from the academy, the hangar was reserved for special circumstances.

My Master had no further instructions so he turned from me and slipped back under the curtain that he first emerged from. I had so many questions, so many things I wanted to ask him, but then was not the time. When we were truly alone, I could get answers.

"I thought something had already happened to you," Serena whispered into my ear.

I took a single step back and placed my hands on her forearms, confusion drawing across my face, "What do you mean?" Had she thought one of the other acolytes would try and sabotage me? Kill me so Darth Reave took a different apprentice?

Serena took on a just-as-confused expression as my own, "Well that Darth... I thought he was going to hurt you," she said breathlessly.

"Why? He's my Master, Serena," I said slowly, certain I was misunderstanding her. Surely she thought better of me than the others.

Serena's face split into a grimace, "Astra... you can't be serious."

I wrenched myself out of her grip and took several steps backward, my stomach was already tying itself in knots. "I am serious," I growled out, "we all heard him say it, he chose me, Serena. Why would he hurt me?"

Serena shook her head, she scowled at me and pursed her lips, a far cry from her relief at my entrance. "Astra. No offense, but that Darth has no reason to pick you. It's obvious he chose you for some nefarious reas–"

"Fuck. You." I spat. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

I turned away from her too-perfect face and crossed my arms protectively over my abdomen. Rage curled through me. Rage for thinking that of all people, my only friend might be happy for me. She was no better than the rest of the jealous, pathetic acolytes who whispered insults at me.

"Astra," she said, aghast, "Come on–"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Are you?"

"No!" My anger manifested in a cloak of dark-side energy curling around my ankles. I knew that if I looked down, I wouldn't see anything. But I could feel it. The invisible shield of force that slithered around me, wrapping around my limps like a protective covering. I was furious, the force drew from my emotions and coiled around me like a black snake. "What makes you think he didn't choose me to be his apprentice because he wanted me?"

Serena laughed–laughed–my blood boiled at the noise of her harmonic voice. "Wanted to fuck you maybe but–"

"Serena!" I snapped.

She sighed, rolling her eyes like it was exhausting to be having this conversation suddenly. I knew what she was doing, she was placing herself above me, like a godsdamn queen. Too high and mighty for the rest of us, like having to explain something to me was a waste of breath. She stared down her nose at me. "Astra you are barely an expert student. You failed lightsaber combat twice. It doesn't make any sense for a Darth of his caliber to choose you."

"You're jealous," I hissed, "you're just jealous that he chose me over you."

Serena's mask of arrogance stumbled, her lips parted slightly before she pulled her composure back into submission. "I'm not going to be jealous when he kills you for being a sorry excuse for sith."

"Get out," I growled. I slammed my open palm against the door controls and it hissed open, "Get the fuck out. I don't want to ever see you again."

Serena swallowed, her smooth brown neck bobbing, "Astra, I'm just worried about you," she was making an attempt to sound sweet, like she cared about my well-being.

"No, you're not. You're jealous and pathetic." I had more that I wanted to say. I wanted to tell her that I was capable and powerful. I wanted to tell her that I was sith, more sith than she'd ever be. But I couldn't find the words. With white-hot rage curling through me, my brain and mouth weren't working in tandem. I just knew I wanted her gone.

She was standing before me still, looking offended and resentful. I raised my finger and pointed at the door. "Out. Now. My Master wants me at the Fury in ten minutes."

She winced at the mention of my master, jealous bitch. She began for the door but stopped even with me and gave me a sorrowful look, "Astra,"

"No," I didn't expect my voice to come out so weak. But truthfully, my heart was breaking. I had considered Serena my friend for years, and to find out that that whole time she thought me so inept... the revelation was gut-wrenching. "Just go."

She dropped her eyes and fled our room, along with any ounce of love and respect that I once held for her.

***

Just as I had thought I finally escaped the critical eyes of my peers, a figure was standing just before me as the lift doors slid open to the hangar. I held in a groan of displeasure and approached the towering, black-robed mass.

Master Lynk tossed back his hood and casually clasped his massive green hands before him. My shoulders slumped at the sight, I could not handle another conversation about how I was going to die.

"Master," I breathed as I came to a stop before him. I bent at the waist in a humble bow, though Master Lynk rarely enforced formality.

However, I felt an overwhelming feeling of sincerity standing before him for what I was assuming to be the last time. I wanted to pay proper respect to the one master of this academy who had shown me compassion.

Passion was a teaching of the sith, however, you would be hard-pressed to find a Darth in the entire order who wasn't cold and emotionally detached. Unless that emotion was anger, of course.

"Astra," he said as I raised from my bow. I knew at that moment that he was feeling a similar sense of nostalgia–he often called me acolyte when we greeted each other, reserving my name for more serious matters.

"You are nervous," he commented. My grimace was the only answer I provided, "the other acolytes have been taunting you."

Again, I didn't need to answer. He read me like a book–must be a special librarian skill.

"I fear they are right, master," I admitted, "that I am not fit to be sith."

He nodded his head slowly, reading the emotions that no doubt flashed through my eyes, "They see what you project, acolyte. You have always carried yourself like you are undeserving of the sith teachings. You feel inadequate compared to your peers, and you let fear control you."

Chills crawled down my spine and across my arms. His words rang true. I would not have been able to say them myself, but as he spoke I felt the truth in them.

"What do I do?" I murmured. My eyes flicked up to the Fury that was across the hangar bay.

"He is looking at us," Lynk warned.

I snapped my eyes back to him, "Truly? How do you know?" I whispered, suddenly worried he could hear us speak of my inadequacy.

"I was surprised you do not feel it," I ignored the way that statement made me feel, "Darth Reave has power that rivals the very best of us. He may very well be the best of us. His stare is like a dark presence pushing in on you from all sides–akin to fear. Train yourself to detect him."

I could imagine what he described, but I figured I was already scared enough that the extra layer of fear from Darth Reave's icy glare was undetectable.

"I will," I promised.

"Good," Lynk reached forward to rest his hand on my shoulder. It was warm and heavy–it stabled me to the ground below my feet, "We should not keep him waiting, he does not mind that we are speaking but he is impatient–as all sith are. I will say this again, Astra. You are the only thing standing between you and your power. You mustn't let your fear of failure hold you back from trying. Learning the ways of the dark side of the force will unleash you, but you cannot learn while you are still trying to hold on to the past. Let go, and fall freely into the unknown. Your power will catch you."

I swallowed and nodded. Falling into the unknown was not something I could see myself doing. I knew facts and history and spells, these things were certain. They were what I was good at. But what I was good at had only gotten me this far. I needed a new approach.

"I will try, master."

"You will make a fine apprentice, Astra. A fine sith. Follow your instincts."

I soaked in the last comforting words I expected to hear from Darth Lynk. I doubted I would ever see him again. I would miss him.

"Goodbye, my lord."

Darth Lynk gave me one more meaningful look before disappearing in a flurry of dark robes and heavy footsteps.

When I looked back at the Fury, I felt him. But it was not fear, it was the dark, black pit of the unknown.

***

The ramp to the starship was deployed as I approached–a further indication he had been watching me–and the double doors hissed open into the ship's annex. There was a short hallway around a corner and into the main compartment of the ship.

It was exactly as I had seen in the holos. A large holotable in the center, a surprisingly comfortable-looking seating arrangement beside it, the entrance to the medbay, captain's quarters, and the bridge, and two wide hallways leading off the sides of the main room in either direction. One was towards the cargo hold and engine room, one to the crew quarters and a briefing room.

I snapped my attention to the footsteps leaving the bridge–he wanted to warn me he was approaching. I knew he could walk perfectly silent if he wished.

Darth Reave stepped through the threshold and stood with his helmeted head held high and his hands clasped behind his back. I dropped to a knee and turned my gaze to the floor, my dark hair falling in a curtain around my face, "Master," I breathed.

After an appropriate moment had passed he spoke clearly, "Rise, apprentice."

I did so and noticed he had walked to a step or two in front of me–silenty. We were a breath away from each other now. He was taller than any human I had ever seen, at my average height I came only to the top of his chest.

I realized that I didn't actually know if he was human. He was a humanoid in a helmet, but he could be any strange species.

"I will show you to your quarters before we depart, come." He was already walking away and towards the crew quarters.

I scampered after him, my footsteps sounding clumsy behind his silence.

"You will sleep and store your belongings here. Your training will be conducted both in the main room and the cargo bay when our third companion is not meditating."

"Third comp–" before I could ask who they were, I was startled by a language I barely knew and a presence that twisted my stomach in knots.

"Chempa'i Para'du," the throaty, guttural language of the Dashade was almost as unnerving as the beast that stalked out of the crew quarters. The humanoid reptilian was six and a half feet tall, an offputting light gray with blotchy red spots and lines along his too-muscled body. He had nothing but a loincloth on. Modest.

Is this the one?

That is what the shadow beast had said. I was not good at his language, but I thankfully knew enough. I knew of the Dashade as well, they ate force users.

"Yes, Khem," Darth Reave replied, "this is my apprentice." My master looked over his shoulder at me, "Astra, this is my Dashade, Khem Val." I gulped as the beast raked his ugly eyes over my body, "He is my slave."

Slave, for now, usurper.

There was clearly tension of the matter of the beasts ownership, tension I had no interest in intervening in. A Dashade was a good companion for a sith, they were fearsome warriors and immune to force manipulation. Tulak Horde had had a Dashade for a companion.

I followed my master into the crew quarters while Khem stalked away.

They were fine, two bunk beds built into the wall. They were all made with gray blankets but looked like they had not been slept in. I tossed my black canvas bag on the nearest bed and looked back to him for further instruction.

"To the bridge, we are leaving."

The bridge sat three, two at the helm and one elevated and at the center. To my surprise, Darth Reave did not take the center place of power but instead the left helm. He gestured at the right and I slid into it.

This ship was made for the prestigious and wealthy and it showed. The seat was the softest I had ever sat in, and that was no exaggeration. It hugged my supple hips and let me melt into it while still holding me in a proper position.

My master had begun flipping switches and pressing buttons, his hands moving over the panels like he had done it his whole life, maybe he had.

"Do you know how to fly?" He asked monotonously.

I hesitated. He noticed and craned his helmet towards me, "No," I replied quickly. I was nervous about disappointing him, but there was no choice but honesty.

"You will learn." He said it not as a command, but as a statement. Like it would happen whether I wanted it to or not. "Watch what I do, there is a repetition to it. You will pick it up with time and instruction."

This eased my residual nerves. You will pick it up. He believed in me.

With deft efficiency, we were leaving the landscape of the Korriban Academy. I had thought that I would feel sad at watching the dusty, red, Valley of the Dark Lords shrink below. But I did not. I did not enjoy my time there. I had met many people, Sienn, Drake, Krudak, Serena... but they were not my friends, especially not the last. I had learned some things there, but something in me firmly believed that everything I needed to know about becoming sith was going to come from the man sitting beside me.

He would guide me, he would instruct me, he was my future.

Some time later, we were in hyperspace. The jump had been smooth and elegant, just like the ship, just like the hands of the man who flew it. The blue whirl of space reflected off the dark interior, casting it an otherworldly glow. The blue shone across his layered helmet, soaked into my skin. I liked being in space.

I had a million questions forming in my mind. Although I was refusing to indulge the thoughts of me not being an adequate apprentice, I still wanted to know why he had chosen me. I was an odd choice no matter which way you looked at it. Furthermore, who was the man who had chosen me? All I knew about my master was what Krudak had said. Was he a Pureblood Sith? It would make sense a Darth as powerful as him would be of pureblood.

"You have questions," Darth Reave said suddenly. The sharp cut of his voice surprised me, I did a poor job of suppressing my jump.

I hesitated, how did he know? Before I could reason against it I was asking, "Can you read my mind?"

He hummed softly, almost like he was smiling to himself under his helmet. The thought was preposterous.

"No, I cannot read your mind, but I may as well have. You wear your thoughts on your face, apprentice," he replied lightly.

That was the second time today someone had told me as such–I never knew it was such an issue.

"I'd rather you ask me your questions than sit there with that tense expression. You look like a Wookie trying to do math."

I twisted towards him, horrified,

"I–I am sorry master I did not mean to offend–"

The soft chuckle filtering into the room silenced me. He was laughing? This terrible, powerful sith lord was laughing? At me?

"Relax apprentice, it was a joke."

I stared down at my fingers. Now I was just embarrassed.

I realized that right now was possibly my only moment to get answers. He was seemingly in a good moon–as strange as that was–and I didn't know how rare this easy-going attitude was. He may very well be in a permanent bad mood after he sees practice with a lightsaber.

So, here was my chance.

I fiddled idly with the fingers, twisting them in my lap and trying to decide what an appropriate question to start with was. A typical apprentice probably would have asked about his plans for them, or about their future in the sith order. But I was not a typical apprentice, and I had other questions on my mind.

"So–what are you? A Pureblood? Zabrak? Chiss? A Rodian? Are you a Rodian?"

I was so nervous that when I opened my mouth words just kept spilling out. I can't believe I just asked him if he was a Rodian.

Without taking his eyes off the hyperspace in front of us, he said darkly, "Do I sound like a Rodian?"

I felt the horrifying blush spread across my face. I was as red as the sand on Korriban, "You don't."

"I think you have your answer."

I only let that non-answer hang in the air for a moment, "I don't think I do."

Another pleased hum sounded from below his helmet, "I suppose not."

I heard his chair swivel ninety degrees so he was facing me with only a console between us. I breathed in sharply before turning to face him, he clearly wanted my attention.

The breath did me no good because what I saw next stole every molecule of oxygen from my lungs.

His gloved hands reached up for his helmet. They rested there a single moment–a tiny hesitation–before his thumbs pressed in and the release hissed. The sides expanded slightly, giving him just enough room to slide it off, revealing his perfectly human face.

He was human. And he was gorgeous.

His mid-neck length, brown hair fell forward once the helmet wasn't holding it back. It had a slight wave and a thin sheen of sweat. His face was angled and severe, a sharp jaw bone that perfectly matched the sharpness of his voice. His facial hair wasn't very thick, sparse above his thin top lip, more trailing down from his fuller bottom lip. It spread back along his perfect jaw into sideburns. The lines of facial hair were well maintained. His nose was long and masculine, almost like it had been broken a time or two. His full eyebrows framed his hawk-like eyes.

I admired every feature before finally locking eyes with my master. His eyes glowed gold. Not the uncomfortable yellow of the masters at the academy, but warm, brilliant amber.

"Am I a Rodian, Astra?" His voice was softer here, maybe because of his helmet being gone, maybe because he was slightly breathless.

"No, master," I breathed, too aware of the way my name sounded on his tongue, between his supple lips.

"What is the next question?" He had leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His amber eyes did not leave mine. The room was too small–too hot. The moment too intimate.

"Is it true, what they say about you?" I murmured.

"Some. Most. I've seen my accomplishes dramatized on the Holo, I've seen them downplayed as well."

I realized it would be easier to ask more direct questions from him. He favored giving non-answers. "You went missing years ago, into deep space."

"I did. Past the outer rim," he supplied.

"What did you find? I asked.

"Power beyond your imagination."

I swallowed at his answer. It was not a brag. It was not a dramatization. I felt the truth in his words just as strongly as I felt the power radiate off him. He had experienced something, not of this galaxy. He had experienced greatness.

"Did you disintegrate those three Jedi?" I had to know.

"There were four."

I clenched my hands on the armrests, drawn in by his exquisite face and domineering presence. He drew me in with his darkness. I wanted to get high off the look in his eyes. I wanted to drink his power. I wanted it for myself.

"Will you teach me this power?"

"I will teach you everything."