Confidence and Arrogance
Erin stepped out of a bathroom full of steam.
Struggle and strife might've been the way of the Sith, but that didn't mean they avoided convenience and luxury. Such things were simply reserved for those who stood at the top.
The room overseer Tremel assigned him offered function and grandeur in equal measure. It was sizable but not unnecessary so, a comfortable bed at its center, storage cabinets for armor and weapons off to the side, and a plain metal desk with a basic computer on top tucked into a corner. The most welcome feature so far was the bathroom he stepped out of. It might not be anything fancy, but it was a hell of a lot better than the camera filled communal facilities that lower rank acolytes were restricted to.
He headed over to one of the metal cabinets and began outfitting himself in the armor prepared for him.
A plain shirt, pants, and boots all worn beneath an open dark gray robe that was tightened around his waist by a belt of empty pouches. Gloves outfitted with comms and a chronometer synced to Korriban's cycle. A helmet with a face plate made of a silver-colored metal and marked by ancient swirling patterns finished off the look. With the robe's hood pulled over, he imaged he cut a threatening figure to the ordinary person, the mask's cold visage on full display, but his eyes shrouded in shadows.
He liked it. He might end up feeling a little hot out in the deserts of Korriban but sand would be less of an issue. He also wouldn't have to worry about standing out too much; a number of the other high ranked acolytes walked the halls in similar get ups.
A series of irritating beeps came from his room's door.
Erin attached his warblade to his back, scooped up datapad and keycard from his desk and stored them into his pouches, then pressed the button beside his room door, the metal thing sliding aside.
"At least you're competent enough to be ready." Eskella greeted him with no small amount of snark. "Follow me. We are to meet my father in the training rooms."
"Is it smart for us to be seen together?" Erin said, voice distorted by a robotic edge. Armor that concealed the user's face and changed their voice? The academy might as well be telling higher ranked acolytes to run wild and do as they please beyond these walls.
"I am usually made to help the acolytes that catch my father's attention. It would be more unusual if I was never seen with the so-called prodigy he intends to personally train." Eskella explained, voice full of condescension. "Any other stupid questions?"
"Anyone ever tell you that you're a bit of a bitch?"
Eskella briefly entertained the question with a glare then turned, walking down the hall. He followed, his room sealing close behind him.
The hour was early, still hours before the sun would truly rise according to his chronometer, but there were other acolytes on their way out of their respective rooms. No one looked twice at him. They didn't quite have their guards down, but the cameras set up along the halls provided a sense of security. No one who climbed far enough up the ranks to be assigned a room here would suddenly fly into a murderous rampage and throw all that effort down the drain.
They reached one of the main training rooms without incident.
No other place in the academy matched the sheer chaotic nature of this place. Acolytes dueled each other or droids -sometimes both- on the main floor. Matches that had nothing to do with each other would sometimes bleed into one another, the inexperience caught off guard. They didn't make use of any sort of energy weapons. Plain silver swords were the training tool of choice, but they weren't normal.
One acolyte misjudged the arc of a droid's swing and screamed, clutching at the light cut left behind on a now limp arm.
Training sabers coated in the toxin of pelko bugs. That brought back memories.
He and Eskella climbed the stairs along the room's edge and joined Tremel on the catwalk above. There was enough space between them and the few others observing the chaotic training that they wouldn't be heard over the sounds below.
"How are you finding your new armor, acolyte?" Tremel asked, arms held behind his back as he turned to face them.
"It will serve me well."
"Indeed. Keep the mask on beyond your quarters unless absolutely necessary. A faceless acolyte is less likely to leave an impression on other overseers." Tremel said. He stepped aside, gesturing for them to look down at the fighting. "Tell me, what do the both of you see?"
"Weak fools." Eskella's answer was immediate while Erin took a moment to closely analyze those below. "They're just slaves grasping for survival. They'll make decent meat shields when the real war with the Republic begins."
Erin found himself agreeing with that to some degree. Many of the acolytes down there we're struggling to keep up with droids, no more than novices when it came to the blade. The distinct lack of any Force use was disheartening as well. Fresh-faced troopers would be more useful.
One acolyte overpowered droids with raw strength, striking with enough force to imbalance them. Fear of the pain the blades promised didn't move him. He kept up a heavy offensive, the power behind his strikes growing stronger. Was he consciously drawing upon his emotions to have the Force empower him or was it unconscious?
Either way, his potential was plain to see.
"I agree. Most of these acolytes are unlikely to ever measure up to a Jedi." Erin said. "But that one with the scar, he's skilled with a blade."
"Good, acolyte. These fools may be tainting the Order, but recognizing the threat they represent is paramount to combating them." Tremel said, faint approval in his voice. "That one is Vemrin, a nobody from a backwater on Balmorra. There are whispers that his progress has caught the attention of Darth Baras who's recently come to Korriban in search of an apprentice."
"Skilled or not, he and those like him will never truly understand the Dark Side. If someone of tainted blood were to become Lord Baras's apprentice, the power at his fingertips could change the Sith for the worse."
Erin couldn't say he knew this Darth Baras by name, but killing someone who caught the attention of a lord of the Sith would be suicidal for a mere Overseer who lacked comparable influence. "So you had me brought here to become Darth Baras's apprentice."
"Indeed. I intend to shape you into the perfect candidate to ensure such rot doesn't get the chance to spread its influence. Remember Vemrin's face, for he is one of the many enemies you will soon face. Now come along, we shall have Eskella put your abilities to the test." Tremel took off and they followed, a small smirk on Eskella's face.
He'd be sorely disappointed if her abilities didn't match her confidence.
x-X-x
In one of the smaller private rooms reserved for those who had approval from one of the overseers, Erin and Eskella stood across from each other. Tremel was off to the sidelines, arms crossed as they prepared.
Erin did some test swings with the training sword. Lighter than both a warblade and vibroswords. Easier to break.
"I'll show the difference between us with this fight." Eskella said, blade held off to the side, defense a mere afterthought.
Erin casually spun the toxin laced blade about then stopped it, holding closer to his chest and placing one foot behind the other. "I'm sure you will."
Recognizing the form, Eskella aimed a fierce glare at him and rushed, the distance between closed far faster than any normal humanoid should be able to manage. He deflected her opening slash with minimal movements, but she brought the blade back quickly. There was no build up. No testing the waters. She was out for his blood, anger and hate carried in the relentless assault.
Eskella mixed in wide swings and flips along with shorter, quicker attacks to try and catch him off guard whenever there appeared to be a hole in her assault. A combination of Ataru and Juyo. The aggressive, fast-paced forms that relied heavily on the force were rather fitting for someone with such an irritable personality.
Erin casually deflected and stepped away from slashes, hoping for some change in strategy or some rare ability. She held a strength in her that allowed her to employ the Force for a long period of time without exhaustion rearing up, but that mattered little when it took very little effort to defend against such telegraphed strikes.
Maybe some encouragement would help.
Instead of lazily deflecting her latest strike, he redirected it past him and kicked her rear when she stumbled past.
"I see why your father brought me here instead of using you for this plan. No Sith Lord would settle for an apprentice like you."
"Bastard!" Fuming Eskella resumed her assault, slashes and stabs coming in at their fastest. Before strikes were predominately aimed for his torso or limbs. Restraint stemming from the mix of fear and respect she held for her father rather than any concern for Erin's well-being. That bit of forethought had been abandoned, his neck and face now added to the pool of targets. One of those stabs might've even been aimed for his groin.
She hadn't changed a thing, the taunt having done nothing more than stoke her anger and leave her in a state of tunnel vision.
All that confidence amounted to nothing.
He dropped his rudimentary use of Shii-Cho, one of the first forms of lightsaber combat and consequently one of the simplest by nature. Prideful as she was, using a form primarily meant to disarm rather than harm to combat her attacks had been one more thing to add fuel to her fire.
He meant her slash head on, their blades locked together. She tried to overpower him. Erin didn't bother with such a thing; they weren't using lightsabers.
His gloved fist slammed into her face sending her stumbling to the side, blood leaking from her mouth.
He didn't press the advantage.
She spun back around the moment she recovered, lashing out with a wide hateful swing. He ducked beneath that while pushing forward and landed a harsh headbutt to her forehead, his helmet enforcing the blow. She stumbled back, teeth gritted.
He didn't press the advantage.
She stepped forward, sword pull back for a stab. He stepped just enough out of the way that the blade only cut through the cloth and pricked skin.
A hot searing pain spread across his left arm in an instant, Eskell smirking once more. The toxins on these blade were so powerful that they were said to be capable of replicating what it felt like to lose a limb.
Perfect for his intentions.
Pain in all its forms was one of the greatest motivators for rage. Everyone from babies to animals reacted with anger when assaulted by pain. It was instinctive. Natural.
The Dark Side obeyed his will in an instant, shackled by his growing anger.
The anger brought on by pain.
The anger brought about by wasted time.
The anger brought into existence by unfounded confidence.
The very same arm that should've been limp shot to Eskella's wrists, the ferocious burns of the toxin making it all the more easier to overpower her.
She winced, blade dropped and he yanked her arms upward, his boosted strength allowing him to hold her up to eyelevel without struggle.
"You're talented, Eskella, but that means nothing to me. None of your efforts will ever bridge the gap between us." He said, voice calm and collected despite the rising anger flowing through every vein. "Speak to me as if you're my better again and you won't find me so forgiving."
For good measure he returned the same cut she gave him. She at least had the decency to prevent any screams by biting down on her bottom limp, drawing more blood onto her face.
Erin tossed the disappointment aside.
He continued to focus his anger, this time using it dull the pain. Eskella remained on the ground, clutching her sliced arm.
"On your feet Eskella!" Overseer Tremel ordered as he walked over, voice full of anger. He stopped beside Erin, both of them staring down at the struggling woman.
By time she came to a stand, her fists were balled, face permanently skewed into one of rage. The glare she wore didn't meet their gazes.
She tried her best to not show any of the pain her limp arm was causing but frequent twitches betrayed her.
"You're dismissed." Tremel said after allowing her squirm. She left the room without looking Erin's way. Tremel shook his head, anger fading. "I had been wondering how best to curve her growing arrogance. If she's smart she'll use this as a lesson."
Tremel turned to him. "You surprise me, acolyte. I did not believe my daughter to be your equal but I never expected you to handle her so easily."
"The benefits of having a Darth to oversee my training." Erin said.
"Indeed." Tremel brought Eskella's training blade into his hand with the Force, giving it a number of test swings. "As you might expect, your father was rather sparse on the details surrounding your training. I had hoped Eskella would shed some light on your skills, but it appears I will have to do so myself. Prepare yourself, acolyte."
Erin narrowly avoided a slash to his neck, hood falling as he jumped away. Overseer Tremel remained still, one arm tucked behind his back and sword aimed towards Erin. The man didn't plan on employing the same blind offensive his daughter used.
Erin smirked beneath his mask.
This was going to be interesting.
x-X-x
Should be settling into a steady night shift position at me job son I'll try to settle on a routine for updates. We'll have to wait and see what happens though.
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