Katarr
The history of the planet, like the planet itself, had been lost throughout most of the galaxy. Skygge herself had been required to do a great deal of searching to discover it. For that matter, she had only discovered the planet by accident. On her year-long quest for the fate of Asajj Ventress, she had followed the fading Force signature to Katarr, where she had discovered the beginning efforts of the Sith Assassin’s redemption. Whether she had been redeemed was, of course, a question that only Skygge knew the answer to. Having found her body at the end of her journey, Skygge had confronted the ghost of the Sith. She had learned things then, things that she now taught her apprentices. Things that she would continue to teach them as time progressed.
As the beginnings of her journey had led her here, to Katarr, so the beginnings of the new apprentices’ journeys would start here. A planet devoid of life, or nearly so, its very surface being destroyed in the massive wave of Force energy designed to feed a Sith whose name Skygge had only recently discovered. Darth Nihilus. It seemed to fit him. A being who could only survive by sucking the life out of others. His power increased, or seemed to, when he fed on their Force energy. It was an interesting concept, but as she knew from the writings of Visas Marr and the Jedi Exile, which she had studied intensely, in the end the habit had become addictive, and it consumed him. He had lost the capacity to speak, or at least to speak intelligibly, and the need to feed had controlled him.
That was something Skygge would never allow to happen to her. It was why she did not tap into the Force, or at least into the Dark Side, as far or as extensively as did Ithron and Lupercus. It was why she would never have the raw power that Palpatine or Vicirus or Hyfe had. But it was also why she was stronger than they. As they had allowed the Dark Side to control them, so she would control it. It was powerful, and its call tempting, but her years of discipline, her years of training, had at least taught her that nothing outside of oneself can actually make one do something. It requires a choice, and Skygge had made the choice to refuse ultimate power. In return, she thought, she had gained ultimate control.
Besides, there were ways other than one’s own raw power. She didn’t need the power to be strong, for her skills were in three areas. First, she was able to hide and sneak without using the Dark Side. She could move anywhere at any time without being noticed except perhaps by the most powerful Masters. Even then she had a chance to slip by unless they were actively looking for her. This skill gave her the advantage in a fight, since she always had the initiative. Her enemy was almost always surprised by her approach, unless she wanted him to see her, and he was almost always on the defensive because of it. If their roles changed, she could easily enough slip away to fight another day.
Second, she did not have to rely on the Force. Her training in unarmed combat, and with un-Jedi weapons, allowed her to use the Force to augment a skill already there rather than having to use it to give her the skill in the first place. Using a lightsaber wasn’t that different from using a vibrosword, other than the weight and those properties unique to a saber. Along with this, even when using the Force she did not have to use the Dark Side. She could tap either side of the Force, using it to her advantage.
Finally, Skygge had gained tremendous skill in the manipulation of others. She had been working on these skills, using as her test case the Imperial General Wesley Vos, head of the SS. He now trusted her, and at her command was his entire force. As long as she worded things properly, he would do whatever she wanted. Oh, he was smart – she had to give him that. And he was not easily manipulated. He had an independent streak in him that was so wide she could barely bridge it. But she had, on numerous occasions. And since her suggestions almost always led to glory or improvement for him or his men, she knew now that he was willing to trust her.
And if you had others to do your work for you, why did you need to be incredibly strong? Even among the Sith, she had her Six. These faithful apprentices were at her beck and call, ultimately loyal to her, and skilled at what they did. Soon would come the time for their glorification and recognition. She had already planned a surprise for them, a surprise that awaited them at their final destination.
She smiled at that thought as the shuttle dropped out of hyperspace. The brownish-red planet hung suspended before them as if someone had simply slapped it into the blackness of space. It was in some sense surprising that the planet had been lost even to galactic charts, located as it was in the Mid Rim. But there were thousands, millions, of undiscovered planets in even the Mid Rim, and thousands of those that were inhabitable. Or so the scientists said. Katarr, until now, had probably been considered uninhabited and useless. In that sense, then, it was no surprise that people stopped considering it worth putting onto an already crowded galactic map.
Whatever their reason for forgetting the planet, Skygge was glad that they had. It made the Sith that much safer. And the lessons she intended to teach the new apprentices would best be taught here, where the corruption of the Dark Side had done its worst and where the Light Side had restored it. Those who were drawn to the planet by the Dark Side, or those who wanted to be Sith, needed to learn the chaos that was caused when one fully surrendered control to the Dark Side and the things that could only be accomplished by use of the Light Side. In this way, Skygge would prepare them to embrace the Darkness and the Light together, yet not allow either to control them. They would use the Dark Side when it suited their needs, yet they would not fall under its total control. They would be Shadows, a force in the night, the ones who could face both Jedi and Void and live.
They would be True Sith.
Planetside
The ships landed on the one area where Asajj had begun healing the planet. The apprentices disembarked, looking around in awe at the stark contrast between the barren desert and the verdant oasis on which they stood. Some looked to Skygge as she mounted the steps of one of the nearby buildings. This building, dome-shaped, had ivy, or something like it, running up the stairs and walls, nearly covering the roof. Asajj had done her task well.
“Apprentices,” Skygge began, “this is to be your new home. The building behind me has many rooms. It will be your first job to convert this building into a training center. The smaller buildings nearby will be your living quarters. The well, and the spring one mile to the east, have sufficient water to take care of you. However, you shall have no food but that which is brought on these shuttles and that which you grow yourselves. You shall be expected to work here. Any apprentice who does not work shall not share in the provisions.
“Here you will be trained, and here you will be tested. Your limits will be pushed. But you will not be pushed to the point of death. We now need every Sith possible. For that reason, you will no longer be encouraged to kill those whom you feel you can. You will no longer fight amongst yourselves for place. Instead, the Overseers will decide on your advancement. Those deemed worthy will train with me or one of my apprentices. When that training is completed, should it ever be, you will be sent into the galaxy as agents to do my will.
“Is this understood?” Most of the students nodded or otherwise expressed their understanding and assent. A few did not. These Skygge singled out with a gaze. “Know that at any time, if you feel confident, you may challenge me for my position. Also know that any challenger will face death. If defeated but not killed, that challenger shall face public humiliation and then execution. If at any time you feel you wish to be that challenger, then step forward.” No one did. “Good. Then I assume you all agree. Time to begin your training. Work.”
With the last word, Skygge stepped off the stairs and allowed the apprentices to walk forward into the building she had designated as a training center. They ambled up the stairs, still in awe, with some trepidation. They had no idea what Skygge had planned for them here. Certainly there would be some challenge for them to face. Finding none, they really began to worry.
One of the Six approached Skygge. “Was it wise to let them go in that building? Certainly you have some test for them?”
Skygge smiled. “No. This is their test. They are to work together to build a training center. They need to have a reinforcement of the idea that teamwork is a good thing. And a bit of fear can go a long way. They need to learn to conquer their fears, and to use their terror to buff their work.”
The Apprentice bowed and stepped back, then paused and stepped forward again. “Lady Skygge,” she said, “Who will train them? You? Us? Is this what you have groomed us for? Is this our task?”
“No,” Skygge replied. “The task I have for you is far greater. I will appoint such Overseers as seem fit, those who had learned my training well. They will eventually be replaced by those from the next location, or the one after, but for now appointments will have to do.”
The Apprentice bowed again and stepped back. She did not know exactly what her mistress had in mind, but she didn’t need to. She, as the rest of the Six, trusted Skygge completely. Never had their leader led them wrong.
Three days later
The Sith apprentices had finished their work on the new Academy. Never before had they been pushed so hard. They had not been allowed to sleep or eat, except for limited water, from the time they began to work. They had been driven like slaves, with few pauses to rest, throughout the ordeal. Now, at the end of that time, Skygge dismissed them to search out living quarters. They wandered off, looking forward to the idea of a good night’s sleep.
Skygge and the others stood in what would become the main training room after the others had departed. Sakyn Kyrtar, the fourth member of the Six, had discovered a massive iron chest in one of the rooms. He had levitated it through the hallways and set it in the middle of the floor. Upon opening it, they had discovered that it was empty, as they had hoped. It was time for the apprentices’ second test.
Skygge allowed the students four hours to find a home and sleep some. She wanted them to be not-quite-rested for this test. They would push these apprentices to the breaking point. On the fourth hour, Skygge nodded, and the Six went to gather the younger students. Within twenty minutes, each student was present, all bleary eyed and exhausted. This was good. Skygge, of course, looked perfectly fine. She had been using the Force to sustain herself, and she had gotten several hours of sleep each day.
Now she smiled at the Apprentices. As they looked at her with bloodshot eyes, she taunted them with a short chuckle. They remained where they were, at attention, though some of them looked as if they could lunge at her at any moment.
“I hope you all came prepared,” she said tauntingly. “Have you your lightsabers with you?”
Instantly sabers were out, held ready but not yet ignited. “Good,” Skygge continued, beginning to pace in front of them. “Now, drop them to the floor.”
A clatter resounded through the room as every saber hit the floor only moments after her words came. “Good. Now take three steps back, all of you.” They did, and she nodded to the Six, who began collecting the sabers and placing them into the chest.
“But Lady Skygge…” one began, apparently thinking that his protestations would get him his saber back.
What they got him was a bolt of electricity that sent him flying. Skygge’s outstretched hand emitted blue-white bolts, the force of which smashed the apprentice into the far wall. He fell to the ground, unconscious. Glaring at the others, she said, “Anyone else thinking of questioning my orders?”
No one moved. “Good. There will come a time when questioning may be good. This is not that time. You are apprentices, not Knights, and certainly not Masters. You will listen to your instructors, and you will obey them. Is that understood?” Not a sound came from the apprentices. “I said,” she began again, her voice crescendoing to a thunder by the last word, “is that understood?”
A hearty round of “Yes, Lady Skygge” followed, and Skygge smiled. “Good,” she continued. “Now, you may win your lightsabers back, with patience. But you must first complete some training. For there will come times when the use of a lightsaber will not avail you, or when you may be deprived of it, or when you may lose it. You must learn to survive without it.
“Now,” she continued, beginning to pace in front of them, “who among you thinks that you are the best fighter?” Most of the apprentices shied back – all but one. Skygge recognized this one. He was a large human, much larger than herself, and he had proven himself in fights before, on Xa Fel. “You?” she queried.
He nodded, and Skygge smiled. “Alright then. Step forward.” He did so. “I will teach two lessons today. First, you will learn some hand-to-hand techniques, and what not to do in a fight. Second, you will learn that ego and size mean little in a fight.”
Leaping forward, Skygge feinted a flip over her opponent’s head, and he responded quickly by looking up. Instead of flipping, though, Skygge’s legs grabbed the apprentice’s head, and her momentum carried him to the floor. His head made a loud cracking sound as he landed, and he lay there, dazed.
“Lesson number one, apprentices,” Skygge said as she stood, “never assume your opponent will do the expected. Lesson number two, learn to do the unexpected. Lesson number three – unconventional attacks are sometimes your best friend.”
The apprentice slowly picked himself up off the floor. Warier, he dropped into a lower, more stable stance. Skygge circled him once, then attacked. Two quick punches followed, both of which he easily blocked. What he didn’t notice was that those two half-strength punches opened him up for a quick kick to his midsection. As he grabbed his stomach and began to double over, Skygge spun and brought her other foot around to the back of his head. He landed on his face, gasping.
“Lesson number four,” she said, “sometimes conventional attacks are just as good, but make sure you set them up correctly.”
The apprentices nodded as if they understood. “Good,” Skygge continued. “Pair up. I want you to fight until one of you is unconscious. If anyone dies, his or her partner will die by my blade. Have at it.”
With that, Skygge and the Six left the building. Once outside, Kyrtar asked, “Was it wise to leave the apprentices on their own?”
Skygge’s head snapped to the side, her gaze fixing on him. She blinked once, then said, “Do you think after that demonstration they would disobey an order not to kill their opponent?”
The Six laughed, and Skygge felt some of the tension leave her body.
Funny, she thought to herself,
I didn’t even realize I was tense. Perhaps the move, or the training, or the burden of leading the Sith. “I need to meditate,” she said aloud. “Find us a place to live, then meditate yourselves. The apprentices will find us soon enough. Or they will wait in the main chamber until we are done.”
As the Six slipped away to do as she commanded, Skygge sighed. Things were moving fast, and while she encouraged the Six to question her, since they would soon disperse to train their own groups, such questioning could go too far. At the slightest hint of rebellion, she would have to eliminate its source; she could not afford dissention.
Entering a nearby building – apparently it had once been a house of some sort, millennia earlier – Skygge lowered herself to a sitting position in the main chamber. She slowly began to relax her mind. Some part of her was still keeping track of the students in the main hall and her six apprentices finding their own places to meditate, but the rest of her mind began to close in on itself. It focused inward, and Skygge felt herself slip into a trance.
It was times like this when she was most open to the Force, when it and she became so joined that she could feel its ebb and flow. It moved, sometimes – even often – of its own volition. It was times like these when she could sense others most clearly, and it was times like these when visions came.
But, thankfully, no visions penetrated through her trance today. Today was for rest, nothing more. She was tired, and it was beginning to show. Of course, she knew that she could use the Force to sustain herself, but there was no reason for that. And even the greatest of Force users needed rest at some point. Vicirus had rested, as had Luke and Leia Skywalker, and Skygge knew that she had nowhere near the power that any of them did. And so she rested.
