Bright Shadow Chapter 5

Previous Chapter: ***Chapter 4 - Neophytes of Darkness***

***Chapter 5 - Twilight in the Barracks***

The twelve acolytes returned to their barracks in the underground halls. The conditions of the acolyte’s living quarters were not fit even for a slave; uncomfortable, rock-like beds with ragged, damp sheets. The climate on Korriban constantly flipped from desert-like, scorching heat, to extreme, polar colds. During the day, the intense heat drained the acolytes of their energy during their training. During the night, the icy cold kept the acolytes from getting any decent sleep. The suffering that the acolytes would endure almost every second of their lives contributed to their building rage and torment, moulding each of them to become one with the forces of nature and as hardened as they could possibly be.

Each of the rooms, shared by three acolytes, were lined with a grey-metallic filament. A series of metal bars ran across the ceiling and walls of each cell-like room. The bars served no inherent purpose. Most likely they were placed to make the quarters feel more like a prison to the acolyte that resided in them. The Sith built their sadistic and torturous incantations into every aspect of their empire, down to the very stone and steel that their buildings were made of.

Vycerant sat in the middle of his quarters in front of a heater. He stretched his hands out to the small source of warmth and shivered as he thought about the things Zhen had taught him today. He had a lot of emotions to meditate on and a lot of questions to juggle in his mind.

Belushi, on the other hand, was working out in the corner of the room, using one of the many beams that ran across the ceiling of the prison-like quarters to perform pull ups. He sweated profusely as his muscles tensed all across his shirtless torso. He pulled himself up one more time before dropping himself to the floor, his feet landing as silent as an assassin in the night.

Looking through the open gate door of his quarters, Vycerant saw Damor; his head bobbing as if it were set on a spring and a bottle of Mandalorian Ale in his hands. After his emasculation at the hands of Dulcia, his reputation as a hardened man was in tatters. All he wanted to do now was to drink his sorrows away. The cold, menacing face of Doran appeared in the doorway of the brother’s quarters. Staring down his nemesis, Vycerant refused to break the stare that the two were locked in, letting his hatred of the shaven-head man that looked back at him fester and boil. Damor fell off his bed in a drunken state, slurring his speech and muttering something about Darth Dulcia. Doran looked at his intoxicated brother and sighed as he closed the gate to their room, breaking the rivalrous stare between him and Vycerant.

As Doran shut off himself from Vycerant’s hateful stare, Kristina walked into the room, immediately catching the eye of Vycerant. Flustered by the beauty of his counterpart, his instincts were to turn away, but he couldn’t help but gaze into her eyes, to which she replied with a smile and a coyly wink. Vycerant finally broke his stare as the woman walked over to her bunk and collected her things.

Her rightfully won time in the luxury quarters had already garnered the spite of most of the other acolytes; to them she was now just a bigger target to eliminate. Vycerant and Belushi, however, had no intentions of removing her from the acolyte ranks. Instead the three had become so close that they promised each other they would help each other survive the pits and overcome the obstacles that laid before them. No doubt a strange occurrence amongst Sith-in-training; with the exception of Doran and his brothers, every other acolyte in the Empire was in it for themselves and no one else.

As Belushi put his shirt back on he noticed Kristina and Vycerant’s exchange of suggestive looks, “Hmm, maybe you two should have taken the offer for the luxury quarters,” he joked. “Get a room, guys.”

Vycerant let out an embarrassed chuckle as Kristina simply grinned and rolled her eyes and shook her head at her friend’s remark. “That’s rich coming from the man who constantly stares at Dulcia’s rear during training,” she said, taking a friendly jab at the Miraluka. “No wonder you’re not learning anything new these days.”

Belushi scoffed a laugh at her Kristina’s comment as he sat down on his bunk and polished his training blade. Kristina’s eyes met Vycerant’s once more; the fire between the two had been building for the past several months. They both knew it and they both wanted it; but the Empire would have none of it. Relationships between the Sith Lords was prohibited and treated like a petty crime. Whilst Vycerant’s upbringing had taught him to respect aspects of authority, he was never old enough to truly appreciate the lessons of his parents. After three years living as a vagabond on the streets of Vortem, Vycerant had lost any love he had for the Empire.

The same went for Kristina; she had a tough upbringing, living on one of the many farms that supplied the Empire she lived under, however she never had any respect for any form of authority. Her father was slaughtered by a gang of Sith minions after he refused to let them take her away to be corrupted by the powers of the dark side. The deep self-loathing she had for serving the very system that murdered her family plagued her mind for years.

Now these two tragic stories and crossed paths; the songs of fate had been heard by the two teenagers and they wanted to express their feelings they had for each other. But lest they be found out and punished for the crime of love, they had both chosen survival over their unbalanced emotions.

Kristina sat on her bunk, still peering back at Vycerant’s eyes. “I bet you’re wondering why I’m not in my affluent quarters for the next week,” she said, breaking the silence between them.

Vycerant just continued looking at her. “Let me guess. You miss Belushi’s bad jokes,” he said humorously.

“Oh, goodness no,” replied Kristina taking part in their friendly teasing of their Miraluka friend. “Otherwise I would have already packed my bags and left.”

The two secret lovers laughed heartily as Belushi tried to supress his own laughter. “In all seriousness though, Kris, why did you come back?” asked Belushi.

“What good of a friend would I be if I just abandoned my only allies in this pitiful place?” she asked as she ran her hand through her scarlet hair. “Not to mention I’d be painting a giant target on my back for the others to try and remove me from the competition. It’s all just a lot of unneeded stress. And I could do with less of that”.

Vycerant nodded at her words, still not breaking his stare. “Well, we’re very happy you decided to stay,” he said, almost under his breath.

“That makes two of us,” pitched in Belushi, still wiping down his now shiny blade with a rag. Vycerant continued to look deep into Kristina’s ocean-blue eyes. Kristina raised one eyebrow and smirked. “Did your parents never teach you it was rude to stare?”

Vycerant became too despondent to be embarrassed by her sly comment. Instead he just broke his fixed gaze and his smile was wiped away by her words. They pierced his heart like the fined of blades upon another reminder of his past. No matter how many years had passed, no matter how many times he would try to bury that side of him under his fury and no matter how many times he told himself that he had moved on, he could never escape the deaths of his family.

He wouldn’t hold the poorly timed reminder against Kristina who was now settled on her bed and playing with her ruby hair. She was naturally crass and never had a filter for anything she said. Moreover, Vycerant hadn’t told anyone in the academy about his younger years, with the exception of Zhen. Everyone had scars, and some were simply unseeable. Vycerant rested his weary head on his curled-up knees and stared into the light emitted by the heater.

Kristina, similarly, was deep in thought. She questioned why her comment, which was intended to be flirty, had caused Vycerant to slump into a depressed posture. She began to think about her own family. About how her father bravely stood up to the Sith bullies and gave his life for her. She thought about escaping the Empire and wondered if Vycerant would follow in her footsteps if she offered. She knew very little of the culture of the Sith, but she was fully aware of the deep commitment they had for their Empire. She tossed and turned in her bed, trying to think of a way to convince Vycerant to join her should the time come for them to flee the Empire.

As Belushi put his training blade in the weapon stand in the corner of the room, he sensed that one of the other acolytes was exiting their quarters and heading down the hallway back towards the Academy. He swiftly walked over to the doorway and stuck his head out, capturing the attention of both Vycerant and Kristina.

“Oi, Sharmall! Is that you?” Belushi whispered down the hall to the acolyte. The man turned around to see who had called his name; Sharmall was a Mirialan who sported emerald green skin and black hair. In between his eyes were a series of small tattooed diamonds arranged in the shape of one large diamond that ran from the centre of his forehead to the bridge of his nose.

“Where the hell are you going?” Belushi continued to whisper harshly. “The Wanderers will see you!"

“Don’t worry about me Blindy,” Sharmall whispered back mockingly. “I’ll be fine."

“Whatever you say, idiot.” Belushi replied, sighing and shaking his head.

Sharmall raised his hand and performed a graphic gesture with his tongue stuck out of his mouth. Belushi, of course, could not see the offensive motion Sharmall gave him and simply stuck his head back into his quarters. Sharmall chuckled to himself quietly and continued down the hallway towards the Academy.

As Belushi began to climb up to his bunk, he, Vycerant and Kristina all looked at each other simultaneously, as if on cue. A look of confusion and fear came across their faces.

“You guys felt that too, right?” Belushi asked with concern in his voice.

“Yeah,” said Vycerant quietly. “A disturbance.”

Kristina curled up her knees and began to shiver uncontrollably. “I feel so… cold. I’ve felt disturbances before, but that was so strong. More volatile. Something very bad is going to happen tonight.” she said, chattering her teeth.

As if on command, Vycerant scrambled to his feet and looked out into the doorway where Sharmall had been standing. He was about to call his name, but knew it was too risky, lest he attract the attention of the Wanderers or, worse, Doran and his brothers. He saw the silhouette of Sharmall walk around the corner and disappear from his sight. The Mirialan was undoubtedly headed back into the Academy but for what reason was still a mystery to Vycerant. The young Sith looked back into the quarters at Kristina and Belushi; Kristina had buried her face into her knees and shivered as Belushi hung from the ladder that led to his upper bunk. The Miraluka was looking dead at Vycerant through his blindfold. They all knew that something dark was afoot.

“You guys get some rest. I’ll take first watch.” Vycerant said to his friends. Neither Kristina nor Belushi said a word to him; only fearful nods as they climbed into their uncomfortable beds and dirty sheets.

The young pureblood closed the gate to their quarters and locked it, keeping an eye out as he bolted the chain and tightened it hard. Sitting back down in the middle of the room, Vycerant stretched his hands out to the heater and kept his eyes on the door, painfully waiting for the end of the night.

Next Chapter: ***Chapter 6 - Dark Rivalries***

Copyright Jacob Burbidge 2019