Star Wars: Slave Of Darkness

A/N: To avoid confusion, there are three separate POVs in this Epilogue.

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A pair of yellow eyes watched the freighter disappear into Korriban's sky, their owner's hands clasped behind his back. When it was little more than a dot on the horizon, he turned and began the trek back to his office.

The elevation of a new Dark Council apprentice was not an insignificant event. As the Overseer in charge of their Trials, there was some prestige that came with being associated with that success.

But Iren's thoughts were not occupied with visions of glory. Instead, his mind was on other matters.

The Pureblood casually weaved his way through the myriad halls of the academy, stepping around Lords and fellow Overseers. Acolytes scrambled to avoid his path.

Darth Rictus' interference with the trials had been…unexpected and devastating. What had once been a promising batch of twenty-four acolytes, of which an unprecedented twenty-two had survived to see their second Trials, had been reduced to one.

An exceedingly dangerous acolyte, admittedly, but one that was still only capable of being in one place at a time.

The ranks of the Sith were dangerously depleted. While the strongest of their number yet remained, barring the loss of the Dread Masters and Darth Ekkage, the rank and file of the Order had been decimated in the charnel houses of the Empire's most difficult battles. Balmorra was particularly notorious.

The Jedi were fools, but they were not weak. A mistake that many a young Sith had made.

A hand reached for his left side as a sharp jolt of pain shot through it, a reminder of the lightsaber strike that had claimed several ribs and a portion of his lung. Though the damage had been repaired with Alchemy to the point it was all but invisible to the naked eye, the altered flesh had never been quite right again.

As much as it went against everything he had been taught as a child, the Empire could not wait for the next generation of Sith to be born from what remained of the old bloodlines. Instead, they would have to look elsewhere for replacements.

Iren's only consolation was that the Jedi were similarly reduced and had even been forced to retreat from their main Temple on Coruscant following the Sacking. However, they would have no compunctions about recruiting any Force Sensitives they found, unlike the Sith.

The door to his office slid open quietly and shut after he passed through. He paused, examining the room with both his eyes and his senses. Upon seeing nothing out of place, he walked to his desk and checked his office cameras.

Perhaps Aldr- Tesser's paranoia had begun to rub off on him. But Darth Rictus was still present on Korriban, so it did not hurt to double check.

Once satisfied that he was truly alone, the Overseer locked the door and activated the holocomm built into the desk. It was only a few seconds of waiting before his call was answered.

As the towering figure was projected, Iren knelt before it.

"Report, Iren." The figure's voice was a deep rasping growl, made harsher by both his mask and the hologram.

"The first phase of Project Ascension has been completed, my lord." The Overseer replied simply, "But there were complications that produced…mixed results."

"Explain."

"The batch of acolytes provided for the test group was promising. Most survived their initial trials," Iren elaborated, "However, outside interference caused only a single acolyte to graduate."

The Sith Lord's eyes narrowed, but he did not speak. Instead, he gestured with one massive hand for the Pureblood to continue.

"Darth Rictus seems to have taken personal offense to the initiative and set about sabotaging the trials. I was unaware of his involvement until one of the Acolytes managed to capture him on camera following their second trial."

Iren's Lord raised a hairless brow, "How many survived to their final trial?"

"Six, my lord." He replied easily, "One acolyte in particular managed to pique his interest, the same that discovered his presence. Darth Rictus' efforts turned from direct sabotage to producing more extreme tests for this acolyte."

The figure noticed the word choice of his response, ""Direct" sabotage?"

Iren grimaced, "Yes. The sole surviving acolyte, now an Apprentice, was instructed to kill the rest. Tesser's chosen method was an all-out battle in the Tomb of Naga Sadow."

The Sith Lord was silent for a long moment, mulling over the Overseer's words. Though it was difficult to read his face behind the breath mask, it was obvious that he was displeased with the results.

"If I may, my lord?" The Pureblood asked, waiting for his Lord's assent. When it was given, he continued, "Despite the setbacks to the project as a whole and the loss of so many potentials, this may yet have been a boon in disguise."

His Lord was not a fool and understood immediately, "The apprentice? You believe he will be of use to us?"

"Precisely, my lord." Iren nodded in agreement, "Tesser might prove to be a well-placed asset. Though he has only just left the academy, he is a dangerous and willful man with interests that do not align with his Master's. Darth Rictus will need to devote much of his attention to keeping him in line…"

"…Leaving him less able to interfere again." The Sith Lord rumbled thoughtfully, "Would the apprentice be amicable to our endeavors?"

Iren's Lord had always held a disdain for the internal politics of the Empire, vastly preferring the rush of the battlefield. However, dislike for the art did not translate to incompetence. No Sith survived for long without learning to play the game on some level.

"I believe that he might be convinced. Fortunately, I have maintained a cordial relationship with him during his time as my charge." Iren explained, "At the very least, he does not see me as an enemy and recognizes that it may be beneficial to cooperate with me."

"Very well." His Lord grunted, "Continue your efforts, both with the project and with Tesser. I will await your next report."

Iren bowed his head in assent.

"Malgus, out."

...

The hologram of the Overseer winked out, leaving Darth Malgus in a darkened chamber. Silence descended for a moment, only to be quickly broken by the sound of a notification on his datapad.

Sulfur-yellow eyes briefly scanned the document, a dossier on the new Dark Council apprentice compiled by Iren. He noted several details of interest that he filed away in his mind for later consideration.

The other occupant of the room chose that moment to speak, "This was an unexpected development. However, it seems that something might yet be gained from this loss."

"Indeed." Malgus agreed, passing the datapad to the other man, "Though I had expected interference of some kind, I was not expecting the direct intervention of someone so highly placed in the Empire."

The last part of his sentence had an almost accusatory tone to it. If the other man was insulted by it, it did not show in his posture or voice.

"I have eyes at every level of our society, Darth Malgus." With the man's full-faced mask, it was difficult to determine where he was looking and all but impossible to read his face. Even his presence in the Force was closed off.

"But Darth Rictus did not become the leader of the Pyramid of Assassins by being incapable of evading surveillance."

Malgus grimaced but acknowledged the point with a nod, "Does this change our arrangement?"

The other man had paused on a page of the dossier and seemed to be examining it closely. Several moments passed before a response was given.

"No. Your project shall continue to have my support."

He tapped the screen of the datapad. Malgus could not see what he was doing but assumed that the other man had simply sent himself a copy of the dossier. Even if he was incorrect, the Sith hardly cared. He did not keep sensitive documents on such an easily accessible device in the first place.

When it was done, the datapad was set back on Malgus' desk and, without another word, the other man departed.

Darth Jadus never was one to engage in pleasantries with his fellow Sith.

...

A drop of blood fell into Korriban's sand, disappearing into the already blood-soaked earth. Another soon joined it, followed by more.

Shuffling footsteps were accompanied by grunts of exertion and pain. Each breath came out as a gurgle or a wheeze as the Dark Side forced perforated lungs to work past the blood filling them.

She was alive. Struggling and her body failing quickly, but still alive. Anger kept her moving past the pain and past the self-loathing.

There was a reason she refused to use parts of her knowledge. They only brought reminders of tainted memories.

"Rare are the enemies that will seek to look past what they expect to see."

Xhal's voice continued to ring in her ears, even a year and a half later. It had been one of his last lessons. Earlier that same day, he had said that he believed she was ready for the Trials.

She hadn't been ready. Instead, she had broken upon the lies and hypocrisy of the Jedi.

Now, she was broken once more, this time at the hands of the Sith. Forced to use what she had once sworn off completely to survive.

"Cast aside your pride, apprentice. It serves little purpose for a Jedi and will only hinder your growth."

So once again, she had tossed her pride away. The berserker had been simple to fool, but the shock of her injuries had nearly caused it to fail.

"Your physical senses are fallible. The Force is not."

All it took was making him believe her head and neck were in a slightly different position and allowing her imitation Yoke of Seeming do the rest, causing her Force presence to fade away as though she were dead. When he departed, her preparations continued.

Aldrex was more difficult to trick. She didn't dare attempt to pry into his mind. Unlike the berserker, the other acolyte's defenses were stronger and he was already wary of such things.

But she had accounted for that. She had drawn the berserker to that spot for a reason. She had stashed the body of one of the acolytes slain by Aldrex's droids. The girl had the same approximate height and build that she did.

As quickly as she could manage, she had dragged the body from its hiding place and placed another imitation Yoke of Seeming on it, this one altering the corpse's face and hair to look like her. 

Once done, she sequestered herself into the corpse's former hiding place and fell into a healing trance until the chance for escape came.

She had almost doubted that it would work. But her confidence rose when she felt his exhaustion and injuries, followed by the realization that he was using Force Sight to see. 

The latent power of the tomb had actually helped her attempt, disguising the power clinging to the corpse as being a result of the environment rather than intentional action.

When night fell, she departed the tomb, pain wracking every step from her mangled leg and every breath agony. But she was alive.

One step at a time and with the winds of Korriban howling at her back, Olia Fen trudged out into the desert.

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The first book of this fanfic has been completed on Patreon, you can look it up in the collection alongside the second book. You can visit Patreon if you want to read in Advance.

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