"Where are we going?" I finally asked.

My master and I were seated on opposite sides of the briefing table–as far away from each other as possible. I was eating a rationed meal–freeze-dried vegetables and grains, a normal spacer meal–he was not eating. After the moment we shared on the bridge he had replaced his helmet and not dared another look in my direction. I did not dare ask another question.

I felt a strange conflict of emotions about our interactions thus far. On one hand, I felt embarrassed for the way I had been behaving around him. Our interactions were a far cry from how I imagined master-apprentice relationships would be. On the other hand, I felt scared–scared of my lack of power, my lack of training. Scared he would see how little I knew and leave me behind. But some deep part of my subconscious knew that he wouldn't leave me behind.

The intensity of his amber eyes and the conviction of his voice had affirmed something within me. It was like there was a rope dangling inside my chest, and by looking into his eyes the rope had gone taught, tightening a knot around my heart.

Was the knot a noose–closing around my vital organs, preparing to extinguish me in a single moment? Or perhaps an anchor to the force–a rope pulling me towards my destiny–my power?

"The seat of the Empire, Dromund Kaas. You know it?" Darth Reave clipped through the shield of his mask. His voice sounded colder through the slight audio distortion. I felt disconnected from him at the sound of it.

Though he had asked me many questions since I had come on board, I realized he was not testing me. He had no expectations of my knowledge, he simply wanted to gauge what I knew about the galaxy. Which, unfortunately, was very little.

"I know of it. Never been," I said before shoving a spoonful of mushy vegetables into my mouth.

He reached for the center console on the table and a holomap appeared a moment later. It was spinning slowly and had yellow lines outlining different sectors and small white dots representing planets.

He gestured to the map and made an expanding motion with his pointer and thumb. The map responded by expanding on a long, skinny sector. He tapped on a planet and it flared red, "This is Korriban." He swiped a few centimeters above it, another planet glowed, "We are going here–the capital, Dromund Kaas. Both are located in the Seat of the Empire–friendly territory. Hyperplanes allow us to travel between the planets in this region in under a day or two. We have twelve more hours until we arrive."

I nodded, taking mental notes. Memorizing these things–real applicable knowledge–was much easier than what we learned in the academy. I had a reason to know these things, they were the building blocks for the knowledge I would expand upon as an apprentice. He was going to teach me how to navigate the universe–how to be self-sufficient and cunning. I was greedy in my quest to learn from my master. I wanted to know everything.

"What should I expect on Dromund Kaas?"

Reave leaned back, (the map stayed up, he was allowing me to memorize the formations as he spoke). "It is the home of the Emperor–it is the sith capital. You will see more sith here than you are used to. They will watch us, they know me and will be interested in you. Do not stare back, they want you to look–they are trying to intimidate you. The lowlifes that crawl about the capital are just that–lower than us. Beneath our concern."

I ignored the way my heart swelled when he said us. There was an us now, it had always just been me against the galaxy. Now it was him and I.

Him and I.

I swallowed the rising nerves back down my throat.

"Wear your hood and keep your head down if you like, they will see it as respect to me. Which is fine, for now. There will also be slaves and soldiers everywhere–they will pay you no attention. The surface houses several, ancient Dark Temples, we will visit some if we have the time. The Dark Council meets in the city on occasion, but they should not convene whilst we are there. I would like to avoid confrontation for now."

"Confrontation with the Dark Council?" I echoed.

"Yes," he nodded, "Coming face to face with a member is inevitable for most sith. I have met with the Council several times."

"Why?" I asked.

"Last time I did they were asking me to join the Dark Council."

I recoiled into my seat. "You're on the Council?" The idea of being his apprentice was terrifying enough, if he was on the Council I knew I wouldn't survive.

"No. I turned them down." My eyes widened. That almost seemed worse. Did he deny the most powerful sith in the galaxy? Reave elaborated, "After I killed my master I had caused enough of a stir to attract their attention–though, I knew they had been watching me ever since I returned to the known galaxy. I had overcome much in my endeavor to overthrow her and they wanted my power for themselves. They wanted a way to control me as well–to leash me like a Kathhound so I wouldn't step out of line again. Saying no was a natural choice. A seat on the Dark Council means removing myself from the activity of the galaxy and I am much too young for retirement."

He killed his master.

This should not have surprised me–this is how being sith worked after all. All apprentices should aim to usurp their masters. This is the way of the sith–the strong overthrow the weak, this is how we grow, this is how we survive.

But the idea of Darth Reave dying was akin to a star dying. The supernova of his death would be galaxy-shattering, life-ending, his death would bring the all-consuming darkness of a black hole. I could not imagine that supernova occurring by my hands. I could not imagine wanting to do so.

"We avoid the Council for now," Darth Reave said into the silence, "You have much to learn and I can only protect you from so much. We will not draw attention to ourselves during our visit, but we must go nonetheless."

"I understand, master."

"Astra," I looked up from my clenched fists in my lap. I was stuck between thinking about his master and how he was in such poor standing with the council. Fear was vibrating through my veins and he read me like a godsdamn book. "I did not think myself capable of killing my master either. Her death was something I did not do just for the power it would give me–but because she betrayed me, she earned her death. I will tell you her story another time, there is much to learn from her mistakes. But for now, know this: I have no interest in betraying you. Furthermore, the goal of a sith is to achieve power, yes, but killing one's master is not the only means of doing so. Do not think that far into the future yet, allow me to plan for the coming years; that is the role of the master. Your role is to learn, nothing else. That is my only expectation of you."

And with that, he stood and left me alone to my meal.

***

Later that evening I ventured out of my quarters and towards the bridge. I had tried to take a nap, but I was too anxious to fall asleep. I intended to find my master and ask him something, but the ship's resident monster got in my way before I did.

Where are you going, tiny sith?

I think Khem Val intended tiny sith to be an insult, but honestly, hearing someone call me sith was rather validating.

"I'm going to find my master," I said. It was not lost on me that my master could most likely hear our conversation. This ship was large for three–though not huge–you could still hear someone talk from anywhere onboard.

He does not like to be interrupted.

The guttural language of the Dashade was like listening to sloshing footsteps in mud. It felt slimy and strange in my ears. Looking at him wasn't much better. It took me a few seconds to translate after every sentence too, so I stood there with a confused expression on my face before answering.

"I don't intend to be disruptive, I just have a question," I pushed. I didn't like that Khem Val was trying to stand between me and going to speak to him. My understanding was that the shadow beast was part slave, part bodyguard, so maybe he was just doing as he had been instructed.

Come back later, tiny–

"That's enough, Khem." My master's voice filtered in from the bridge, I stiffened at the sound. My body reacted to his voice in ways I could neither control nor understand. It would be easy to call the reaction fear, but I think it was something far more complex than that.

Khem scowled and stalked away, avoiding further reprimand.

I stepped aboard the bridge and saw him leaning back in the chair at the left helm. The ship needed no guidance when it was in hyperspace, I believed he was only there because he enjoyed it. He was staring out the front viewport with his hands behind his helmet. He looked relaxed, at ease. I was unfamiliar with seeing sith relax.

"You have questions," he clipped out, his attention still on the viewport.

I fidgeted slightly, "Well not really a question... a favor, perhaps?"

That got his attention, he dropped his hands and craned his gaze over his shoulder. With such a large helmet, he needed to turn his entire body to look behind him. It seemed impractical to me. Why forfeit visual mobility in favor of hiding your identity?

Why hide such a pretty face?

"Apprentice?"

I had been standing there thinking about his attractiveness. I knew my face was flush with an adolescent blush, "Yes, sorry," I stammered, "I was wondering if you had an extra datapad I could use to study. I often read sith texts in my free time at the academy–I found it beneficial. I was hoping to continue the recreation here." I paused. He did not answer. "Unless you have a task you'd rather me do in my free time?"

That damn helmet made him impossible to read. I didn't know if he was going to be mad at me for mentioning 'free time' or if he was going to laugh at me again.

He finally spoke, "Research is a fine way to pass time. Although in the future I'd like you to practice saber technique and meditation as well, since we have not started instruction, reading is fine."

I was relieved.

"Here," he had taken the datapad sitting beside him and extended it towards me. It appeared to be a personal one. I felt strange taking it from him.

I grasped it and bowed in thanks before turning to leave, "Stay apprentice," he said softly. I flushed with nerves. I wasn't expecting the invitation.

"Yes, master." I took the right helm, as before–when he removed his mask and trapped me in his amber gaze. I suppressed a shudder at the memory.

I settled into the comfortable seat and he resumed his relaxed position. I clicked the datapad on and the screen glowed softly as I began filtering through it. There weren't any additional applications installed on it, just what came preinstalled. I found the reading application and opened it. The datapad displayed the last opened text–a report on spell locks.

"I have questions for you apprentice, and I want you to answer them honestly," my master said as I closed the report. I stilled and glanced at him through the curtain of my hair, he was staring off into hyperspace.

"Okay," I said, my voice weakened to a murmur.

"I will not be upset with you regardless of your answers. I simply wish to understand where we are beginning. You will not be punished for honesty, ever."

His words should have comforted me, but I still felt the impending dread of him finding out how useless I am. I could not hide my ineptitude forever–he was going to find out eventually. I just had hoped this feeling of pride that he chose me would last longer.

"I understand."

"Darth Traxiya forwarded me your acolyte files. They say you were brought in from Nar Shaddaa by Darth Lynk, is this correct?"

"Yes, master."

"You were an orphan?"

"I was. My mother was killed in a gang dispute. I never knew my father."

He did not offer me his sympathies. I did not want them. "Darth Lynk left a footnote saying that you were hiding from him when he found you–hiding using the force. Explain."

I constructed my response before I answered, I wanted to articulate the ability correctly, "I can feel dark energy around me in tangible sheets. When I am near or under shadows I can reach out with my senses and pull them towards me–pull them over me–like a blanket. When I do so, I cease to be seen by eyes and cameras. I believe I am still detectable through the force, though."

He made the low humming sound again. I hoped it meant that he was pleased with the response. "I use a similar technique, though I have mastered it to be undetectable through the force as well. It took me many years of practice. I will teach you this technique when the time is right."

"Thank you, master," was the only thing that felt right to say. I was thankful. I was also worried I could not master the skill as he had.

"What of your other skills?"

I nibbled on my lower lip. What of my other skills? What skills? Cloaking was basically the only thing I had going for me. I considered my answer for a minute or two, he did not rush a response out of me. "You have seen my spell breaking, at the library," I finally said.

He breathed in sharply, I did not know why, "Indeed. You made quick work of it."

"Thank you, master."

The silence stretched out. He was waiting for me to add more to my list. I had nothing else to add. Every other thing I knew was subpar at best. My stomach twisted and my chest grew heavy in the silence. I was fucking useless. Serena was right.

"You struggle with lightsaber and force technique," he provided. Yeah, no shit. If he saw my acolyte file then he already knows I've failed both classes. "Tell me why."

What was I supposed to say? I'm inept? I'm weak and hit myself in the face when I try to hold a vibroblade (which I still had a yellowing bruise from)?

"Speak, Astra." I had not noticed that he turned his chair towards me again.

"Because I–I," I was hot and flustered and embarrassed. I could feel his brilliant eyes raking over my expression from behind the helmet, "I just–fuck. Because I'm weak. I'm a failure."

Words like this would get me beat or worse in the presence of the Darth's from the academy. Instead, Darth Reave removed his helmet, removing the physical barrier between us. His expression was one of disappointment, yes. But not anger. He appeared more upset by my word choice than the truth.

He placed the helmet on the console to his left then clasped his gloved hands in his lap, resting his elbows on his knees so he could lean towards me. I had his undivided attention. "Do you truly believe that?"

I couldn't bring myself to turn towards him fully, so I stayed facing the viewport. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I felt exposed under his gaze. I wanted to shrink myself and hide.

"I believe that the force does not listen to me. That I am graceless and clumsy with a vibroblade," I gestured to my fading bruise, "I believe that I call to the force and it does not respond."

He nodded along with my words. He was deep in thought. When he spoke, his words were carefully chosen. "When you 'call to the force', are you asking for the force, or are you demanding?"

I dissected his question but I could not make sense of it. It frustrated me. I twisted my head to him, frowning, tired, "I don't understand what you mean," I admitted.

"When you broke that lock to the library, were you wanting the force to do it for you, or did you just want to open the door?"

"I wanted to open the door," it seemed obvious.

"Exactly, apprentice," he said with conviction, "you must want something badly enough for the force to bend to you. When you conjure lightning from your fingers, do not ask the force to create it. You must want the destructive power badly enough that the force has no choice but to obey."

I nodded, but I did not want to say I understood yet. I had not tried his technique, it was an angle that I had never viewed the force from.

"We are the masters of the force apprentice, the force serves us. Do not ask to be given power, you must seize it."

I felt my skin prick at his words, I saw the conviction in his eyes and heard the passion in his voice. He radiated strength and power and all things sith strove to be. His aura was intoxicating.

"Recite to me the sith code, apprentice. I know you know it. You did well in your Sith Philosophy courses."

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion," I began. The words were burned into my mind. I could not forget them if I tried, "Through passion, I gain strength."

"That is enough," he interrupted me softly, "I want to focus on these first two verses for now."

He moved instantly and silently. I blinked and jumped when I saw him on one knee before me, bent down enough to be at eye level with me. He was inches away from my face–so close I could feel his breath against my skin. I breathed in sharply–he smelled like musk and metal–or was it blood?

Against my better judgment, my eyes drifted over his face. Following the sharp angles of his bone structure and softening against the plush fullness of his bottom lip. My lips parted slightly at the sight.

"Astra," he murmured before softly pressing the knuckle of his pointer finger under my chin, tilting my gaze from his lips up to his eyes, "what are you passionate about?"

The warmth of his finger melted into me. It was the only contact we had ever had. He was so close to me I could not breathe without smelling him. My head was fuzzy and I could not form words. I stared at him too long–he simply waited–his eyes drowning in mine and his lips pursed.

"I don't know," I answered truthfully.

"Through passion, I gain strength," he reminded me, "What makes you feel powerful?"

The answer flew through me. It was the only answer that made sense. I felt the truth in it. I felt the power in it.

"You."