suitably_heroic | Korriban, Some Time After Last

Atton	It felt like they'd been wandering the hallways of the Sith Academy for hours, slicing up beasts whenever they sprung up. All the while, there was this terrifying quiet - not just the quiet of the dead or the quiet of their missing Jedi, but the quiet of something hissing in the shadows, soundless and out of reach. It was bad enough on Bao-Dur and Meetra, who gripped their weapons tighter as they slunk through the hallways. For Atton, it was worse. Inexplicably, Sparkle jumped to his mind - the kid who projected so much cynicism and world-weariness to the world, who'd never get this; who could still think turning into a vampire for a couple of days and killing someone who didn't stay dead was the worst thing that could happen to you, who didn't fully understand why Atton didn't mind staying in a place that just turned you into something else a couple of days out of the year and maybe made you fight something that didn't kill you every now and again, who could look at people like that Professor Lecter of his and not automatically, unthinkingly ferret out the signs of cruelty and callousness. Walking down this hall, knowing that once there had been screams of pain resonating off of every wall, knowing he'd been the source of those screams once, knowing that people he had considered, if nothing else, compatriots had been the source of them long after he'd been gone, that they were now corpses on this floor... that was a sensation Atton could claim all to himself. Well, maybe not entirely. But he didn't need to be reminded that the only person he'd ever met who could genuinely understand this part of him was Anakin karking Skywalker - that was an indignity all its own.
Meetra	Meetra's footsteps fell light. She had had to retreat into the Force to help her do this - to keep her feet clear of the mines and poison gas traps that either the Sith or their destroyer had left behind. The Academy was a maze of corridors and puzzles and tricks. They had had to hack several consoles to find out anything about the complex. Though now it seemed the way further into the Academy was finally unblocked, she was justifiably worried about what they might find there. She was even more worried of what they'd find of Master Vash. She danced between several poison traps, the air filling up with filthy green but seconds after she put her foot down. She came to a stop at the end of the corridor and glanced over her shoulder.
Atton	"I'm good," Atton muttered. Not as graceful as her, mind you, but he was starting to get the hang of using this Force thing to at least make sure he didn't wind up with a blast of poison up his nostrils. He took a step forward to check around the next turn and blanched. A trail of fresh blood. He had a bad feeling about this.
Meetra	Meetra pushed past him and slid around the corner, her footsteps speeding up. "Master Vash?" she called. She shouldn't have bothered. Master Vash had been trapped within a thick steel cage. Had been, because now her body laid in a boneless pile on the floor, covered in blood; her spirit long gone, rejoined with the Force. Meetra let go of a curse.
Atton	Somehow, finding somebody newly dead was the least disconcerting part about this place. That, Atton knew. Damn, the sheer reality of it helped peel away one of the fingers of-- whatever it was that had been wrapping around his heart since he got back here. "So this is who we came here to find?" Atton asked, tilting his head. "Looks like this has been a big, dangerous waste of time."
Meetra	Meetra ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah," she said quietly. "She was a member of the Jedi Council."
Atton	Atton squatted down by the corpse's side, reaching between the bars to nudge her shoulder until she fell back onto her back. The signs of torture were clear; nothing really unusual for the kind of stuff that had always gone on in here. He spotted something and immediately reached over to pluck it from her robes. "Looks like she was carrying a datapad," he said, passing it on to Meetra.
Meetra	Meetra took it. She pressed on the latest entry, her eyes skimming over the words. "I found the Sith I came to Korriban looking for," she read aloud. "I am no fool, but I fell neatly into their trap. Their leader, Darth Sion, is a perversion of the dark side such as I have never seen before. Though he was cunning enough to capture me, he seemed otherwise a volatile brute, and should therefor be easily coerced. If I keep my wits about me I have no doubt I will escape this situation. Before I was captured I managed to create a system account on the console in the room here. That will allow me to reopen the door to the Valley."
Atton	"Not as easy to coerce as she thought, I guess," Atton said casually. He pulled up to his feet. "Okay, let's use this account of hers to make sure the door's open and then let's get out of here. I'm sick of this place." In more ways than one.
Bao-Dur	Bao-Dur gingerly stepped around the cage and the corpse to get to the console on the other end of the room. He touched several of the controls. Then there was a satisfying click, and briefly, the audible slide of a door opening somewhere a few halls down. He felt no open anxiety or fear. Just a niggling feeling, poking at the back of his mind, where the General's command still rested.
Meetra	A rock had sunk down into Meetra's stomach - not a real one, but one that felt as painful and as solid none the less. She cast one more look towards Lonna Vash, hoping her last hours had not been too painful. Hoping against hope, if the expression on Atton's face when he had squatted down by her side had been anything to rely on. She was casual about death, had had to become so, but Atton's level of callousness was something she couldn't quite achieve. Meetra slipped back into the hallway, the stone in her innards growing impossibly larger. It would not be too far until the exit; perhaps helping Kavar on Onderon would help her dispel this unease.
Atton	And then there was the quiet whisper of Atton's voice behind her. "Did I mention I have a bad feeling about this?" he said. "Look." There was something in the darkness of the final chamber before them. He was sure of it.
Darth Sion	As if summoned, Sion stepped out of the darkness, a quick stroll that matched the Exile's pace step for step. "Did you come here looking for answers?" his voice rumbled. "There are none." His skin was cracked, the color and consistency of curdled milk - but it was also tough, like stone. There was perfect whiteness where one eye had once been, and a crack that ran across his face as if he were marble, as if a piece of stone had been carved off from his face, fallen to the floor, discarded. "The call of Korriban is strong, but it is the call of the dead." His eyes skimmed briefly past Atton, then settled on the Exile. He paid the Zabrak no heed at all. "I have studied you, immersed myself in you. I know the paths you walked in exile. I know your teacher. I know the fires that raged on the Dxun moon while the Republic died around you. You know war. You know battle." His single good eye narrowed. "And I know of Malachor. You know what it means to be broken. The one who travels with you will destroy you, as she did me. I can end it before it begins."
Meetra	Their leader, Darth Sion, is a perversion of the dark side such as I have never seen before, Master Vash had written. She was right; Meetra could sense the sheer hate and self-loathing that permeated this one, that kept his cracks welded together. It was not completely unheard of, to her, but she couldn't quite place the familiarity of it. "What do you know of Kreia?" she asked, because there was only one person he could be talking about.
Sion	"I know her as an apprentice knows their Master," Sion boomed. There was a distaste in his voice. "And as a Master knows an apprentice."
Meetra	Meetra could sense light shock from Bao-Dur, but none from Atton. She was grateful for the lack of background noise, just this once. "What does Kreia want with me?" she asked steadily, keeping her eyes on Sion's scarred face.
Sion	"She clings to hope. That perhaps she can train one as great as her first." Revan. Always hidden between the lines of her endless rambling: Revan. To her, none of her later apprentices meant anything, in comparison to her greatest student. And yet she kept trying. "She is a fool who escaped death once. She will not do so again."
Meetra	On the grand scale of things, it did not matter what Kreia had been before, Meetra decided. What she was now was her mentor: hard to please, hard to understand, but her mentor none the less. "I will not let you harm her," she said, and though her hand didn't move to her lightsaber, her thoughts did.
Sion	Such a naive creature. Disgusting. Sion stared down at her. "You do not know her as I do," he said. "You have not survived her teachings, as I have. And you have not bested her in battle, as I have. You are nothing." He had no issue reaching for his lightsaber. "And yet she still walks with you, is willing to sacrifice herself for you!" The red blade lit up, menacing. "You are a wretched thing, a thing of weakness and fear. You are her apprentice in name only. I am the Master. And that is why you will die."
Atton	Atton was lucky Meetra had been able to set some time aside for more lightsaber lessons over the past two days - it meant his reflexes were fresh. He brought his own blade up just in time to catch the red double-bladed edge of a Sith assassin's lightsaber. Damn it! He slashed at the assasin's midsection in turn, but the guy danced away, came at him again.
Meetra	"Atton! Remember your training!" That was all Meetra managed to do for him. Sion was strong, and he kept coming at her. One swipe caught him across his midsection, but he barely seemed to notice the wound - when she glanced back to it a few moments later it had stitched itself together again. They danced back and forth, dueling, neither giving or winning any ground.
Atton	Atton ducked under the Sith's lightsaber just in time. Remember his training? He could barely keep moves in mind, let alone styles. (Ataru? Had that been the name of the last thing she-- ah, it didn't matter.) Still, he was grateful to have the lightsaber. Didn't see himself lasting very long with a blaster in these circumstances-- Which is when he caught sight of Bao-Dur.
Bao-Dur	Bao-Dur might have been an engineer, but he was in no way an unskilled warrior. Still, he was armed with a blaster, and his opponent with a blade; his bolts went flying into the walls behind him more often than not. And the assassin was getting too close for his comfort. He lashed out with his mechanical arm, striking the Sith and catching his lightsaber on the part of his arm that was pure energy. It did little to dissuade him.
Atton	Well, that wasn't good. Atton rolled away from his Sith and barreled for the one attacking Bao-Dur, striking the assassin in the midsection with his lightsaber. He wasn't used enough to the blade-- the moment the assassin fell apart, cut in half, came as something of a surprise.
Bao-Dur	Unfortunately, Atton's former opponent seemed to take his moment of surprise as an opening. But in the process he had done off Bao-Dur as no real threat, and in that laid his undoing. The Zabrak hurled a grenade at the Sith's feet. It exploded seconds before he could reach Atton, scattering the Sith's body parts across the room. They didn't linger this time. They both turned on Sion.
Kreia	The battle that was taking place could only end in one way, as of now. The Exile was not ready, nor were her compatriots. And so Kreia reached for Meetra's mind, brushing along their link. "Sion," she whispered, careful not to distract her overmuch. "He cannot be defeated... he is not a beast of flesh and blood. This is not a battle that can be won. Flee."
Meetra	"I won't run from that corpse!" Meetra hissed back through their bond. She caught another blow with her lightsaber, just in time. Atton sped past her, attacking at Sion's back, which distracted him - good.
Kreia	How reckless. Apprentices - so similar in some things. "There will be another time," Kreia whispered. "But it is not now, not here, while Korriban runs through him."
Meetra	Damn it! But even in the heat of battle, now, with Sion countering every blow and ignoring every wound-- with Atton and Bao-Dur growing fatigued-- Meetra could tell that there was wisdom in Kreia's words. She reached out to the two of them, calling. Then they flew past Sion as one, their feet thudding against the floor as they escaped back into the valley they had arrived from.
Sion	As they fled, Sion deactivated his lightsaber. More of his assassins uncloaked, their weapons held high, but he held an arm in front of them, to stop them. "Do not harm her. I command it." He watched her go. "She has earned this... and she and I will meet again."