The Korriban sun crept through my single window at a slow crawl. I wasn't sure if it was leftover survival instincts from sleeping on the streets all my life, or that I was just in tune with this desert plant, but I always rose with the sun.

I sat up and pulled my blanket closer around me. It was freezing in here. During the day this ancient academy baked in the sun. But the red stone walls didn't retain any of that heat come nightfall, so every morning was freezing cold. Despite that, my eternally kind, dark overlords never gave us more than one blanket.

I understand that as sith, we should feed on pain, discomfort, and anger–letting it fuel us–but come on, give a girl a fuzzy blanket.

I padded through the girl's dormitory on bare feet, sliding through the silent hallways towards our communal refresher. Despite the fact that none of my peers were likely to be awake, I slid myself into the shadows of the hall. I could not wield the force, but I could manipulate the force around me. It was easy to duck into the darkness, pulling it around me and hiding me from prying eyes and ears.

The shower encompassed my aching body, relaxing my tense muscles and washing away the thin layer of dust that covered everything on Korriban. We were lucky to have real running water at the academy, not those water-less sonic showers most of the Empire favored. I was still sore from training yesterday, and Serena's lessons thereafter. I had caught a glimpse of my face in the 'fresher's mirror and was displeased to see my bruise was still getting darker. I'd have to style my thick, black hair in front of my face if I were to avoid a confrontation with some sneering acolyte.

After I had thoroughly scrubbed my skin, I returned to my room to find my roommate, Serena, unsurprisingly still asleep. I pulled my acolyte robes from the small, shared closet. That super important Darth was supposed to be arriving today, which meant our masters would want us in our best robes. I opted for a black, knee-length, robe-style tunic that fastened at the waist with a wide leather belt, giving me a modest v-shaped neckline. I wrapped my heaviest cloak around my shoulders and pulled up the hood. My wavy hair was already drying in a shape to hide my black eye–nothing I could do to hide the busted lip, however.

With my mug of caf warming my cold, slender hand, I started through the empty academy towards the library. Despite Darth Lynk's objection to me breaking in, he would know to expect it today. I doubted he would mention my breaking and entering again.

The halls were eerily quiet, yet buzzing with dark forces that radiated off the walls and pillars in every direction. There was a constant, empty hum throughout the academy. It was unnerving at first, but I grew to find comfort in it. It was the same tone as the buzz from a neon holosign, a sound that used to lull me to sleep in dark, dirty alleyways.

I had always been a child of darkness, had always naturally drifted towards it. When I was first brought to the academy I tried to reject it. Being sith sounded so... permanent. So extreme. I didn't want any part in their wicked ways. But I slowly grew to understand that I had always been dark and rotten, deep, deep down. Instead of feeling trapped in the darkness, I found accepting it to be... freeing.

The spellbound library door crackled as I approached it. I quickly noticed that Darth Lynk had used a different spell to lock the doors. I smiled softly to myself. He knew I was going to keep coming back, so he planned to test my limits. How utterly conniving.

I rested my hand on the thick, iron handles and closed my eyes. I quieted my thoughts, slipping seamlessly into a place of silence and darkness. Once there, the spell formed in the blackness of my mind. A deep red static, crackling across the backs of my eyelids. I reached out with my mind, looking for entry points, searching for a way past the red static without touching it. If I misstepped I would burn myself–a force injury in the form of a splitting headache.

I slipped my mind through the spell. As it were, the best way through seemed to be straight through the heart of it. A straight, dangerous path right through the middle. How very sith. I felt the other side of the red static, willing it to release with a hiss. I heard the door shift and I opened my eyes to see the heavy stone ajar. I smiled to myself.

Victory.

"Interesting."

The flat, accented voice came from directly to my left. I yelped and jumped, cowering away, completely against my cool and level-headed training. I whipped my head to the side as the man stepped out of the shadowed corner between a ten-foot-wide pillar and the wall. The sith took a step towards me before crossing his arms across his chest and leaning against the wall, staring at me.

I quickly looked away, hoping the blood rushing to my face was hidden from view by my hood. I stared into the open door and tried to think of some excuse, some way to make my breaking in look harmless. I sighed. No use lying to sith.

"I didn't know anyone was here. My apologies." It took everything I had in me to not let my voice shake or stutter, though it still came out quiet and breathless.

"What is your name, acolyte?"

The sith's voice wasn't particularly deep, but it had a sharp edge to it. It was wicked and confident. It sent a chill down my spine.

I opened my mouth to respond "A-"

"Look at me when I am speaking to you." He cut in, like a knife slicing through the silence of the academy halls.

I swallowed my fear and turned on my heels, taking an extra moment to compose myself before craning my head to meet his eyes. Except, there were no eyes. I was met by the lifeless black depths of a mask. But it wasn't any mask, it was a near-perfect replica of Tulak Hord's helmet. I had seen that helmet time and time again during my research.

Tulak Hord, Lord of Hate, Master of the Gathering Darkness. Tulak Hord, one of the most fearsome warlords the Sith Empire had ever seen, master of lightsaber combat and sorcery alike. Legends say that Tulak Hord single-handedly laid waste to Jedi sieges on Yn and Chabosh, decimating thousands of Jedi in the process. I read once that he pulled a warship out of the sky with nothing but the force.

The sith before me was wearing his helmet–well, maybe not the exact helmet, perhaps a replica. Either way, the effect was the same. He was terrifying. Well over six feet tall, as broad as Master Lynk, and at a stance that radiated effortless violence.

Accompanying his layered helmet, he had layered armor plates augmenting his shoulders and chest, only partially visible from his heavy cloak that cascaded down his back. His stomach was wrapped in black leathers–a choice that favors agility over defense. His gauntlets were sleek black, with three short, razor-sharp claws protruding across his knuckles. His thighs were heavily armored to match his chest, but these pieces had intricate carvings across them–they were beautiful. His black leather and titanium boots came up to his knees, smooth across his kneecaps for agile movement closer to the ground. Lastly, his lightsaber hung freely at his waist. It was as intricately carved as his leg-plates and slightly longer than an average hilt, I assumed to provide space for two crystals rather than one.

He was the personification of terror. Of strength. Of the sith.

"Astra." I finally said, my eyes glued to his mask. He had asked me to look at him, I wasn't daring to test his command by looking at his feet.

"Astra," he repeated, like he was testing the way the two syllables felt on his tongue, "does the library master know you are breaking into his domain, Astra?"

I clenched my fist, trying to direct my nerves into the movement to stop myself from quivering. My nails were too long and I could smell the blood welling in my palms under my titanium grip.

"He does. He's the one who spellbound the door."

"Ah," the sith nodded once then adjusted his stance, scraping his arms across his chest plate and making his cloak sway across the floors, "a test, then."

"Something like that," I responded too quickly.

He considered me for another moment. If I didn't know better, I would say he is sizing me up. But I knew better, I am not a threat to a dark lord such as him. He was probably trying to decide if I was worth the effort to tattle on.

"I am impressed."

I took a single step back and my mouth fell open an inch, "What?" I shook my head, "I mean, why? I was break–I was–"

Thankfully, he interrupted my rambling before I admitted to my crime, "I had been meditating on this spell before you arrived. It is complex. I must admit, it would have taken me longer to break than it did you." There was no taste of venom in his admittance. No indication that he resented me for my skills. Any acolyte, lord, or Darth in the academy would have been jealous, they certainly would not have acknowledged my skill.

This sith spoke to me with... admiration.

I bowed, sincerely bowed. "I am honored, Lord...?" I hovered on the title, hoping to be graced with his name.

After no answer came I straightened my spine and met his lifeless gaze once again. He was just staring at me, clearly not interested in divulging his title.

"Just Lord, then," I hoped I was not coming across as dumb as I felt, "thank you, my Lord."

He nodded again, just once, before uncrossing his arms and walking away from me. Armor scraping against armor, near-silent footsteps, and a voice like a knife were the only things I heard, playing over and over again in my mind for the rest of the morning.

***

"Is he here yet?" Sienn said in a rushed, whispering squeal. She had been waiting outside Drake and I's Adept Telekinesis class, as she normally did.

I was convinced she found any reason to be near or to speak to Drake. It would have been cute, if there was any chance at all of them working out. Sith-sith relationships weren't uncommon–usually only a fellow sith could handle being intimate with them–but only after they completed an apprenticeship and became Lords. Before then, the odds of it working out were practically none. Either one would die during their apprenticeship or they'd be moved to opposite ends of the galaxy. No point in getting attached to something you can't have.

I had a rather harsh outlook on love. It wasn't that I was a cynic, in fact, I would have called myself a romantic. But I was also realistic. And the real truth is that at any moment your situation can change, and losing people is a part of life.

"I heard an advanced student say he arrived in the middle of the night in a Fury-class Imperial interceptor!" Drake said with a wicked grin. He always loved starships. If he wasn't sith, there was no doubt in my mind that he would have joined the Imperial Navy as a pilot.

"No way!" Sienn said, leaning into Drake's shoulder as the three of us walked towards the cafeteria.

I had the fleeting thought that the small Twi'lek had no idea what a Fury was, and was just going along with it to impress Drake. I wasn't an expert in starships, but I surprisingly did recognize the name. Imperial interceptors are what the hot-shot sith were gifted by their masters at the end of their apprenticeship–if the master was prominent enough to be able to afford such a thing. Fury's were a good size for a small crew. It comfortably slept four to five humanoids, more if you used the spacious cargo room.

When I was feeling particularly yearnful for the future I would look into all the new gadgets the sith were using around the galaxy. But, as it were, I hadn't thought about the future in months. The idea of even having a future put a rock in my stomach. An apprentice could corner me today, challenge me to a duel and I'd be dead five seconds later. I would be a fool to get my hopes up about any kind of future.

"When is he choosing his apprentice, anyway?" I asked.

"Darth Traxiya said we're supposed to head to the grand hall after lunch," Drake responded, "Didn't you hear her this morning during breakfast?"

I furrowed my brows and thought back to this morning. I remember the tall Pureblood Sith addressing the acolytes, but I wasn't really paying attention. I was still thinking about the library.

I hadn't told anyone what happened to me. I wasn't sure if the Darth's strange admiration for my skill meant he wasn't going to tattle on me, so I figured it best to keep my trap shut about it for now.

I had been utterly haunted by the interaction all day. There was something so strange about that Darth. I wasn't used to sith having such a quiet, calm demeanor. He was terrifying, yes, but he wasn't like the others at the academy. The Lords that flitted about the academy were all loud and boastful and assholes. They took any and every opportunity to tell acolytes how big and tough they were. But not that Darth. He complimented me.

A small, secret smile spread to my lips.

"What's your deal?" Serena said as she joined us in the cafeteria line. A blush spread to my lips and I looked away, trying to get my emotions under control.

"Nothing," I swallowed.

"K," she shrugged. I liked that about her, she never pushed for more information. She respected privacy. That, or she just didn't care, "I can't wait to meet my new master." She beamed proudly while holding out her tray to the serving droid.

"Oh, yeah, S?" Drake chuckled, shaking his messy mop of hair.

"Oh, yeah," Serena responded, "I can feel it in my bones. He's going to choose me, and I'm getting the hell out of here."

"How does Krudak feel about you stealing his master?" Drake said, sitting down at our table that the aforementioned was already sitting at, nothing but a glass of water before him.

Krudak looked up at Serena with a hairless eyebrow raised. I had never seen Krudak nervous before, but if I had to guess, him sitting at lunch with no food and his best–freshly ironed–robes on was as close as it got.

"Krudak's gotta wait his turn," Serena chimed. Krudak huffed out a breath, a semblance of a laugh. It seems they were both one-hundred-percent positive of their destiny.

While we ate everyone continued gossiping about this new scary Darth. Apparently, five different acolytes reported that they saw a Fury land in the middle of the night, and that was basically concrete evidence that he was already here.

"Do you think he's been walking around all day? Scoping us out?" Sienna said over a mug of tea.

"Oh, I bet," Serena said. It was nice to see her so excited about something. She was always in a relatively good mood, but never this excited.

I drifted out of the conversation again, deciding to refocus back on the morning. I had definitely never seen his helmet around the academy, so he must be a new assignment. Maybe a new professor, or maybe here on a research assignment, though he didn't look much like a historian. He didn't give me a name or title, so I couldn't say for sure if he was a Lord or Darth. There was a chance he was a Lord that had been here for months or years already, just wearing a new helmet.

But that helmet didn't look new. Neither did his armor. He had seen combat, and recently, there were scrapes and dents scattered across his armor. I silently hoped I would see him again. He had been meditating on the spell, so there was a chance he was interested in the same sort of sorcery as me. Maybe he could teach me to create my own spell-locks.

I tried to imagine him and me meditating together. Sitting cross-legged across from him and nudging our minds together, visualizing spells and sith magic. The picture I created in my mind was surprisingly clear, and... comforting.

"Ground patrol to Major Astra!" Drake laughed, grabbing me by my shoulder and shaking gently.

I looked up at my group and saw that they were all standing, getting ready to file out of the room with the rest of the acolytes. "Fuck, sorry," I muttered, standing to join them.

"You've been so spacy lately," Serena said, genuine concern on her face, "Is everything alright? You're not going crazy-sith on us, right?"

I forced a weak smile, "No, no I'm alright. Lot on my mind. Let's get going, Darth Traxiya will hang us if we're late."

I wish that was an exaggeration. Darth Traxiya was one of the overseers at the academy, which meant she outranked every soul in this building. She had no tolerance for unruly students and she strictly enforced every regulation by means of purple lightning. More than a few acolytes had ribbed scars along their backs and sides from an infraction.

We shuffled into the grand hall with the rest of the acolytes and formed arched rows in front of the podium, all of us slipping to our knees and arranging from novice to advanced students. The grand hall was usually used for this type of occasion, it put on a good show for the Darth and it allowed them to take a look at all the acolytes. The grand hall had a ceiling that stretched to the very top of the academy. Red tapestries and sith artifacts filled the space above our heads, casting a soft red glow around the room. I kneeled beside Serena in the expert section–despite my adept level classes, I was still in my third year of formal training.

"Welcome, acolytes," Darth Traxiya's raspy, accented voice rang through the hall. Three great banners with the Sith Empire logo were prominently displayed behind her, making her look like one of the Empirical news holocast's. She had her signature black gown on, with a high neck and large, gaping sleeves that allowed her to touch her fingertips together in front of her torso. Her red, thin fingers were adorned with two rings on every finger, matching the gold jewelry cascading up the side of her ears. Her straight black hair was perfectly cut to end along her jaw, bringing attention to her red, ribbed face.

Pureblood Sith varied in appearance–some had perfectly smooth skin, some had ribbing along their forehead or nose. Even more had fleshy tendrils drooping off their jaw, Darth Traxiya included.

"You have all been informed that we have a visitor to our prestigious Sith Academy. There have been many rumors as to this visitor's purpose, and I will take this moment to remind you, dear acolytes, that gossip is strictly forbidden in these halls," Traxiya droned on, taking every opportunity to insult us or remind us of her many, many rules, "Mercifully, our visitor has not been detoured by your less than admirable behavior, and would still like to fulfill his original purpose.

"Darth Reave has come to our academy in search of an apprentice," at the mentioning of his name, several acolytes started murmuring and gasping, "Quiet!" Traxiya snapped, purple sparks dancing around her wrists. She cleared her throat and continued, "Darth Reave has been observing you all and has informed me that he has made his decision." I felt Serena stiffen beside me. She reached over and grabbed my wrist. "If I could have all the advanced students come forward and bow before me."

Serena let out a sigh and dropped her head, letting go of my wrist.

Fuck.

As the advanced students–Krudak included–gathered closer to the podium, I turned to Serena to give her my condolences. I knew how badly she wanted to be chosen, but it seems this Darth Reave is only interested in the fourth-year students.

Before I could get a word out, an unnatural hush fell over the room. Not a soul moved–not a soul breathed–as Darth Reave stepped onto the podium from behind the Empirical banner.

My eyes trailed up impossibly long legs, following intricately engraved, armor-plated thighs, a too-long lightsaber, a leathered torso, a broad chest, an undeniably recognizable helmet.

I felt like I was going to throw up–no, scream–no, pee my pants–I don't know what I was going to do, but I was unwell.

It was him.

The Darth from this morning. The Darth who caught me breaking into the library. The Darth who complimented me. The Darth who terrified me to my very bones yet something about him drew me in.

I tried to control my pounding heart as Darth Reave stood beside Darth Traxiya. There was no mistaking that that was my Darth. He was here to observe us and choose an apprentice accordingly. My face flushed and I looked away. It felt so obvious now, of course, that's why he was here. Why else would a warlord be lurking in the shadows around the academy? I felt a foreign pang of jealously for whoever he was about to choose.

I realized that meant I was the only acolyte that had seen him before now. That helmet is too recognizable–if anyone else had seen him, news of the Darth with Tulak Hord's helmet would be flitting about the academy.

I was embarrassed about my behavior this morning before, but now that he was standing up there on that podium, slowing walking in front of the advanced students, sizing them up, I felt even more stupid. He was probably just wasting time talking to me. I doubted he even meant the compliment seriously. Maybe he was bored, hell, I don't know. I had been foolish to think I would see him again or that he would want to train me in sorcery. I'm just a weak, powerless sith acolyte, who would never survive the Sith Academy.

"Which one of you is Astra?" Darth Reave's razor-sharp voice cut through the room. Just hearing him speak again startled me–I hadn't even registered he had said my name.

He was standing in front of the advanced students, arms tucked behind his back–he was sans cape now–staring above the advanced student's heads and into the sea of others. Serena grabbed my wrist and shook it violently. I tore my eyes away from his black depths and looked at her. Her face read panic. Her dark eyes were huge and she looked like she might cry. She was afraid for me.

"Well?" Darth Traxiya snapped, "Do not keep a dark lord of the sith waiting, Astra!"

That time, I heard my name. I snapped my head up and saw that Traxiya was looking right at me–she knew who I was due to my failing three of her classes.

My body moved on command, I rose to my feet and my black robes fell around my ankles and my hood accidentally fell back in a smooth motion. I was standing in a sea of acolytes but Darth Reave was looking right at me, just as he had before in the hallway. I could not see his eyes or face or expression, but it felt like he was looking straight through me.

He lifted a gauntlet and stretched it towards me, flexing his fingers towards himself once, commanding "come, Astra."

My entire body felt like it was lit on fire. I moved on shaking legs through the sea of whispering acolytes towards the outstretched hand. I knew every eye was on me, I knew everyone was whispering about me–I had the attention of every soul in the room–but all I could see was him.

When I reached the podium, Darth Reave held his hand out to me in an offer. I hesitated, looking from his hand to his helmet which gave me one slow nod. I placed my hand in his. It was warm. He guided me up the podium and let go. My hand felt frozen in his absence.

"Has she bothered you, my Lord?" Traxiya's crone of a voice scratched through whatever kind of trance I was in with him.

Darth Reave stepped away from me, returning to the center of the podium, "No, not at all, my Lady," he replied.

I could feel eyes all around me, the force in the room shifted and felt like it was pelting me with invisible little daggers. I turned my eyes towards the still kneeling advanced students and found the burning yellow eyes of a Zabrak.

Krudak.

I could immediately tell that the source of the energy pushing against me was coming from him. His face was that of pure, unadulterated rage. I swallowed, though my mouth and throat had run completely dry.

"She is to be my apprentice," Darth Reave declared. I breathed out a shaking sigh as I turned back to him. My mouth quivered and my eyebrows scrunched together. As soon as he had held his hand out to me I knew that making me his apprentice was his intent, but it was different to hear the words.

"What?" Traxiya coughed out. The pureblood sith recoiled and scowled to Reave, "Surely, my Lord, there is a... better-suited option amongst our advanced students," she gestured to the bowing group. "Might I suggest Krudak?"

"No. Astra is my choice. I will not repeat myself."

I gazed out into the sea of students to find Serena, narrowly avoiding the dagger-like gaze of Krudak. I found her beautiful face, staring wide-eyed at me. She still wore an expression of fear.

"My lord," Traxiya began again, "she doesn't even have a lightsaber." She said the sentence with such venom it was clear she was still trying to get him to change his mind. I felt a flicker of anger bloom within me. He chose me. He wants me. Why is she trying to take him from me?

"Are you suggesting me incapable of providing for my apprentice, Traxiya?" Reave said flatly, though the intent was clear. End of conversation or else things are going to get heated. Traxiya received the message. She nodded softly to herself and looked down at her hands. Never in my life had I seen someone put the great Darth Traxiya in her place. I would wager that she was older than him by centuries, yet he had control of the situation. He radiated power, violence, and dominance. I was clearly not the only one who felt it, it was enough to make the Sith Academy's top overseer buckle.

Traxiya composed herself, adjusting her sleeves and fixing her head back to its craned, superior angle, "No. No of course not, my Lord," she said quickly, "I was merely ensuring you had explored every option."

Darth Reave made a noise of dissatisfaction, "Your micromanagement is not required."

If I wasn't sweating buckets and shaking in my boots, I would have laughed at that. Had anyone ever spoken to her like that?

"Right," Traxiya murmured, "well then. Students!" she snapped, "Back to your schedules, and may the force ever serve you. Dismissed!"

On queue, the room erupted into flying robes, shuffling feet, and frantic muttering. I tried to not listen in on any of their comments. I tried to stand perfectly still and wait for their prying eyes to leave me be.

Oh, she's totally going to wind up dead by the end of the week.

I turned and scowled, searching the sea of hoods to see who said that shit about me. It was a fruitless attempt. Everyone was saying some version of that anyways. It was one thing to think that about myself, it was another to hear someone say it about me.

"Fuckers," I muttered under my breath.

"Indeed," I spun around so fast at the sound of his voice that I stepped on the back of my robe, effectively tripping myself and making me begin to fall off the edge of the podium.

He snatched me by my wrist and held me teetering on the edge with reflexes so fast that they could only be attributed to the force. I looked down at my thin wrist and saw a massive gloved hand squeezing it so hard I thought it would break. He slowly pulled me back upright and let go, stepping away. I noticed Darth Traxiya was no longer standing on the podium with us, she must have filed out with the rest of them. Save for a few straggling acolytes stealing a final look back at us, we were alone again.

I looked up into his lifeless mask and waited. Waited for him to tell me he's joking, or made a mistake, or just wanted to see the look on my face when he chose me. But he stood there, staring back, silent as a rock.

I couldn't wrap my mind around what was happening. This morning was enough excitement to send me spiraling for hours, I didn't think I could survive being around him full-time. But... isn't this what I wanted? I had practically daydreamed about learning from him. About just... seeing him again. And now, that opportunity was being laid out in front of me.

I steeled myself. I unclenched my jaw. I dropped to a single knee. I bowed my head and said,

"I am at your command, Master."