Chapter 25: Every Second Viscounts
The lingering hum of the lights above seemed to echo the anticipation buzzing in my veins. Sola stood close, her presence a steady beat amidst the chaos of the locker room. Her eyes met mine, piercing through the veil of pre-battle jitters with a confidence I wished I could borrow.
'I'm nervous i'll fart on stage and accidentally shit myself.'
"Go out there and show them what you're made of, Vex," she said, her voice an anchor in the tumultuous sea of my thoughts. "Remember, love, Peace is a lie."
With a nod that felt more like a promise, I watched her graceful exit, a part of me longing for her presence to stay. The door hissed shut behind her, leaving me alone with the echo of her words. But solitude in these parts is about as rare as a compassionate Sith Lord. True to form, the void left by Sola's departure was soon filled by another, Ya-Ta Kesyk, all sneers, and snark as she sauntered into the space Sola had vacated.
"Hey, Vex, how does it feel, knowing I almost beat you to death last time? You look like you've seen a ghost or" Ya-Ta chuckled at her own joke, her mockery hanging in the air like a bad stench.
I leaned against my locker, feigning interest in her taunts. The truth was, I didn't care, not about her words nor the undercurrents of fear they were meant to instigate. Still, I played my part, offering a half-smirk that didn't quite reach my eyes.
'I am going to make you watch as I rain death upon your entire legacy.'
"Ya-Ta, your wit is as sharp as a gundark's tooth," I deadpanned, rolling my shoulders to release some tension.
Her laughter was forced, a hollow sound that bounced off the cold metal walls. I saw through it, though. I saw through a lot of things these days.
'My carrot intake is high. My eyes are as strong as a space ox.'
I pushed up from the locker, feeling the weight of my past life on Earth blend with the reality of who I was now, a combatant on the precipice of something big and dangerous. My hand absentmindedly brushed over the hilt of my training saber, comfort in its familiarity.
"Anyway, I should get ready," I said, breaking the silence that had stretched between us. "Wouldn't want to keep the crowd waiting for their next spectacle."
With that, I turned away from her, the act of disinterest as much a defense mechanism as any lightsaber block. I didn't need to look back to know the effect I had; the sudden stillness told me enough. Sometimes, silence spoke louder than any taunt or threat.
*****
Despite my best efforts to ignore Ya-ta, she refused to let up. The oppressive hum of the locker room's lights seemed to sync with Ya-ta's rhythmic mockery, a dull pulsing chorus backing her every jab. She leaned closer, seeking that flicker of fear in my eyes, but today, I was an impenetrable void.
'What I would give to have authentic pizza. I once asked Rinka, my wet nurse, to make it, but she was too busy breaking my heart at the time.' I sigh with a frown reflected by the closure I'll never get from my dear old wet nurse.
"Scared yet, Vex? Or have you gotten used to being on the losing end?" Her voice dripped with venom. I watched her lips move, forming words meant to cut deep, but they bounced off me like blaster bolts off Beskar Steel.
'She reminds me of my old mother.' I smiled, remembering ill never see that bitch again.
"Terrified," I deadpanned, my voice as dry as the Dune Sea. The sarcasm was lost to her, or so I thought.
Mid-mock, her expression faltered, a crack appearing in her facade. Ya-ta's eyes darted around the room, scanning for something, anything, that might have shifted the air between us. She swallowed hard, the bravado slipping. "What... what are you smiling at?"
"Nothing," I shrugged, my tone casual, but inside, my curiosity piqued. What unseen specter had crawled into her confidence and nestled there?
Her attempt to regain composure was almost pitiable. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" Ya-ta sneered, though it lacked its usual bite. "Let's see how smug you are when—"
But her words were cut short by her own sharp intake of breath, her chest rising and falling like she'd run laps around Korriban's harsh landscape. It was fascinating, watching her struggle against an enemy only she could see. Fear, the ultimate opponent, was gnawing at her nerves.
'What is her fucking deal? She's literally psyching herself out, I don't get it?'
"Time to gear up," I reminded her, feigning indifference, while part of me wanted to dissect this sudden turn of events.
"Shut up!" she snapped, the veneer of toughness shattering before my eyes. With less than ten minutes to go before our rematch, Ya-ta suddenly bolted upright, her movements erratic. She grabbed her helmet from the bench, clutching it like a lifeline, and stormed out, leaving questions swirling in the stale air of the locker room.
'What a freak.'
I exhaled slowly, alone now with the echo of her departure. There was a certain poetry to it—the hunter becoming the hunted within her own mind. I reveled in the quiet that followed, not out of satisfaction but out of recognition.
The moment was ripe with anticipation, the air tingling like static under a brewing storm. I could feel the pulse of the crowd, their excitement, a living thing that pressed against the walls of the arena. Shadows clung to my form as I adjusted my gauntlets, preparing to step into the light.
"Combatants," the announcer's voice boomed, "prepare for glory!"
'Okay, the plan is simple. I knock her out and then Meet Sola in the infirmary, and we do a little Force brain sucking, and then we outtie 5000. Easy.'
My boots were silent on the durasteel floor, each step measured, deliberate. I had rehearsed this walk in my mind a thousand times. This stage was familiar, yet every time felt like the first—my heart thundering, my senses sharpened to the hum of the Force around me.
'God, if I shit myself right now, I might kill myself.'
Then, without warning, the rhythm of the event was shattered.
"Wait!" The word sliced through the fervor, carrying the weight of authority and arrogance. Viscountess Zapal rose from her seat, her robes a swirl of dark fabrics that seemed to drink in the light. Her voice was a cold dagger, "Vex Eras, you have been disqualified."
"Eh?"
The words hung in the air, heavy and surreal. Murmurs rippled through the crowd as they turned, a sea of faces seeking the source of this sudden twist.
"Disqualified?" I repeated, my voice steady even as confusion laced my thoughts. I met her gaze, searching for the jest behind those piercing eyes. There was none.
"Indeed," she announced, her tone dripping with condescension. "A technical oversight, it seems. You're not of age for this tournament, young Vex. You've enrolled in Korriban a year early, and you are but fourteen. Fifteen is the required age of participation. Rules are rules, after all."
'Does she not know I am to be the duke here someday?' I was genuinely too stunned to do anything. This is one of the women my mother told me to look into.
The crowd fell into an uneasy silence punctuated by a few gasps and whispers. It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving a void where the roar of excitement once lived, a black hole pulling at the edges of my composure.
'Well, She just signed her own death sentence tonight, I guess?' I laugh in genuine frustration. To be beaten by bureaucracy. At least this is more akin to my American ideals than most stuff here. I shrug.
Ya-Ta's victory, by default, loomed over me as a hollow triumph born from a line in a rule book. I felt the indignation rise, a tempest brewing within, but I quelled it. Anger would serve no purpose here.
"Technicality," I muttered under my breath, the taste of the word like shit on my tongue. The game was always more than what was seen on the surface. Politics, power plays, and now this a lesson in control and the art of the unexpected.
But as the judge's decision echoed the finality of her decision, my thoughts were not of defeat. They were far away, detached, analyzing the situation like a puzzle to be solved. Another test, perhaps, or simply another opportunity to learn the true nature of the game.
Resignation may have settled upon the audience, but within me, something else stirred. A smile, thin and sharp as a vibroblade, hidden beneath the shadows of my hood. Let them think they've won. The path of the Sith was never straight, and I was nothing if not adaptable.
*****
The smug cackle that erupted from Ya-Ta's throat clawed at the thin veil of calm I draped over my boiling rage. She sauntered closer, her eyes glinting with malicious delight, her victory not earned by skill but by a twist of fate, a clerical oversight.
"Looks like I win again, Vex," she sneered, her words dripping with arrogance. "Too bad you couldn't even step into the ring to defend your pathetic pride."
Her laughter was a discordant symphony in my ears, but I refused to let it unravel me. My fists clenched at my sides, knuckles white, as I drew upon every ounce of restraint not to lash out with the Force or with a fist.
"Ya-Ta," I began, voice steady as the hum of a lightsaber, though inside, a storm raged. "Enjoy this hollow victory. It seems to suit you." I seethed on the inside. But my plans for her were far more important than a simple lightsaber death.
And then, as if on cue, I let the smile creep onto my face. It wasn't warm, nor was it friendly. It was the sort of smile that didn't reach my eyes, the kind that spoke of dark promises and even darker secrets. The kind of smile that said, 'Watch your back.'
For a moment, her arrogant facade flickered, and the shadow of fear that darted across her face was more satisfying than any physical blow could ever be. Her laughter died in her throat, replaced by the uneasy silence that followed a realization: I was not defeated, merely delayed.
"See you soon, Ya-Ta," I whispered, my smile unwavering as she backed away, her own forced grin faltering. "May the Force be with you," I spoke in a mocking tone.
She turned sharply, her cloak swirling dramatically as she made a hasty exit, but not before I caught the tremble in her step. I stood alone amidst the whispers and stares, my smile finally fading as I looked up at the darkened arena above. This game was far from over, and I had just begun to play.
*****
Ya-ta's POV
Mere minutes after lording my victory over that weakling Vex Eras, I hung in the air of the Duke's office, the life being choked out of me by my father's long-time confidant, Viscountess Zapal.
"You foolish girl," Zapal hissed at me. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
I gasped for breath, clawing at my throat. Zapal's power was immense, fueled by her anger.
"You did not tell me The Eras boy was to be betrothed to the heiress of Korriban," Zapal continued.
Sola Corde and her father, the Duke, stood before us. Sola with an unhinged smile. The Duke was surprisingly calm.
'He must have been forced to give his daughter's hand to such a weakling.' I almost laughed to myself if it wasn't for Zepal's grip.
She released me, and I crumpled to the floor, wheezing.
"You made me look like an imbecile. Do you have any clue about the position I am in now?" She barked at me like an angry bitch.
Then Zepal got on her knees in front of the Duke.
"Please understand your grace, I had no idea the boy was so important."
'To think she's groveling, But The Korriban Duchy has a lot of power. My father may be a duke as well, but he certainly is not in charge of training all the Sith that come and go here.' I sigh over my mistake. 'I should have found another way to disqualify him. But when I tried to use the same force tactics to scare him like I did last time, he didn't even flinch. What is his deal?'
"I truly hope your grace will accept my apology without any bloodshed." Zepal continued to grovel.
"You certainly made a mockery of my family, yes, but it is not I who bared the brunt of this humiliation. I can accept your apology for how you attacked the future Duke, but I believe it would be best for you to personally apologize to Vex yourself."
Zepal smiled. 'She believes she's getting off scot-free, eh?'
"Thank you. Your grace is as kind as always. I will see to it. I will go and apologize to the boy right now." She bared her fangs at me. "Come along, Ya-ta"
"No," A new voice entered. The Duchess Scoria Corde. A Wild card. "You will apologize to him without Ya-ta. Bring Sola, his betrothed, with you. By tarnishing Vex, you tarnished her as well." The Duchess spoke with restrained anger. "Because of you, Vex can't win this stupid tournament anymore. You stole a potential achievement from him. However, we will not overturn the disqualification because the final fight has been decided. And I also doubt he would want to put his sister's chances at winning for a second year in a row in jeopardy."
'That's right!' Zenna Eras. 'My fight with her is tomorrow.' I grin. 'I will show her the fear of the empress. I will break her so her weak little brother knows what it's like to feel pain again.'
"No, he would not want that." With the conversation over, Sola and Zepal headed toward the student council dorm room. Thankfully, I managed to return to my own room relatively unscathed.
'Tomorrow I am going to break an Eras.'
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone