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Silas Kitsuchi

There's Nothing You Can Do

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Melona 3, 3630BBY

Training Pits, Dathomir Academy

 

The training saber flew from Silas' hand before he knew it, and the teen was frozen as he stared down at the pointy end of another one. His opponent was sneering at him, and the most disgusted expression the redhead could manage was to sniff snootily before stepping away.

 

"Again," the Overseer crowed out, and Silas ended up glaring at her. "Pick up your weapon and fight, Kitsuchi. You're not done yet."

 

"This is pointless," he called back. "I can't really go back to the pits. I haven't been fully trained properly. Can't you ask someone else?"

 

"Can't you suck it up like a good Sith instead of whining like a spoilt child? Or do you want me to drop you off in the forest to get you proper survival training?" The teen's cheeks and ears turned nearly as red as his hair. His fellow acolytes standing around the pits laughed uproariously at the reprimand. His opponent didn't laugh, but Silas could see the unimpressed look sent his way.

 

It's been weeks since Silas got lost in the thick jungles of Dathomir. An Overseer bringing her class out for some survival training found him delirious, in pain, practically raving, and just on the brink of dying from shock. He had a lightsaber burn at the back of his neck that he didn't feel out of adrenaline, and the lightning that hit him had scarred all over his arms and legs. It took him two weeks just to recover, and he spent those two weeks as a jittery mess to scared to get out of bed.

 

He so hated Sith women, then.

 

"I hope you all die choking on hutt spit," Silas muttered, but he was already bending down to pick his training saber. He faced his opponent - another teen, rather thin, tattoos - and slipped into a basic Niman stance.

 

The other acolyte charged forward, aggressive and quick, aiming for Silas' head. Using the Force, the redhead grabbed his opponent's leg, trying to make him trip. He rolled rather haphazardly on the ground and managed to crouch into a defensive position. Silas sidestepped an oncoming swipe at his midsection, and let out a sharp breath when the barb nearly grazed his side. A little annoyed that he lost to this little barve, Silas used the Force to push him away.

 

His opponent was easily pushed back, and Silas smiled smugly at that. He couldn't enjoy his victory long enough, as the apprentice charged forward with an angry snarl.

 

Instinctively, the redhead froze, and he would have probably have an injured arm if not for the Force making warning bells ring inside his head. He managed to dodge a strike aimed at his neck at the last minute, and used the other acolyte's momentum to pull him close. Silas swiped his saber at his opponent's leg. The acolyte fell down into a graceless heap, hissing and spitting, and looked like he was about to retaliate. So Silas swiped his weapon at the acolyte's right arm, earning him a glare.

 

"Good job taking down a mediocre one, Kitsuchi. Thought you'd be a goner." The Overseer waved him over, and Silas was glad that this exercise in torture was over. "Right, you're both finished. Next!"

 

Slaves dragged the injured acolyte off, and Silas had decided that that was not worth his time. So he took off and headed for one of the benches. He was just glad that this stupid exercise in self-flagellation was over, and he could now then concentrate on his interests. Which was learning Force-Based techniques and the Sith language.

 

He just started on the Sith language, and trying to learn its grammar and vocabulary as he went. It's been interesting so far, if not a little rough on the throat and the head.

Edited by Homra Azner

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Darth Verrin    2,072

One of the problems with being a Sith - more specifically, a Darth - was that one had a certain aura in the Force that was difficult for those attuned to such things to miss. Add to that the rank of Kaar within the now-defunct Empire, and Head Librarian, and anonymity was almost entirely wiped away. Add to THAT, the face of the head of the Academy, and it was nigh impossible for Verrin to go anywhere without SOMEone noticing him.

 

Today was a perfect example of that difficulty. He could have walked up to the redhead who practiced his Niman in the Pits, and maybe - maybe - not have been recognized. But would all the others trainees also fail to recognize him? The Overseers certainly wouldn't miss his presence. And anyone of the rank of Master would have either crossed paths or sought assistance from him at one point or another. So simply walking somewhere in the Academy wasn't always the best option.

 

Fortunately, Darth Verrin was a long-time practitioner of the Force. He simply moved into the Pits without being seen, cloaked completely from the eyes and ears of those around. His stealth didn't hide his aura in the Force, and one Overseer who was more aware - or more bored with the proceedings - flinched when Verrin passed invisibly by.  It was as if he'd been touched by a warm breeze, or perhaps the buzzing of a mosquito disturbed him. The Overseer dismissed the former, and decided on the latter because, frankly, mosquitoes in the jungle were far easier to explain away than odd feelings in the Force.

 

Verrin's silent, unseen steps led him to stand directly behind the bench where the redheaded student sat. To his credit, he'd won the sparring match he'd just had. but Verrin wasn't concerned with that at the moment. He finally let the cloaking energy of the Force fall away from him, leaving him standing like a dark shadow, looming over the teenager. And only then did he speak.

 

"You."

 

One nearby sparring match came to an abrupt halt, as the Acolyte facing towards Silas saw Verrin appear. He nearly dropped his training saber in surprise, and the other student took advantage, getting in two quick hits and forcing the distracted Acolyte to fall back in pain.

 

Verrin continued. "You're the one who let the training droid get out of the facility, and then failed to return it. Haven't your instructors beat into your head that we cannot afford such mistakes - that if news of our whereabouts gets out to the public, that the Jedi and Republic will descend upon this planet to finish the job they failed to complete at Dromund Kaas?!  Are you in need of further instruction, boy? Do you feel some kind of punishment would be out-of-hand? A week or two in the sanitation department, for example? Do you not realize just how much danger you put the entire SITH organization in with your callous carelessness?!?!

 

Is there ANYthing you have to say for yourself that will keep me from killing you outright - or at the very least, reducing you to towel boy in the women's lockers?!  Choose your words carefully, Kitsuchi... WELL?!"

 

There was a look on Verrin's face, even half-concealed by the cowl of his robe, that suggested this was no joke. By this point, the other sparring sessions had come to a halt, as every person in attendance turned to stare at the irate Master of the place. They were probably wondering if they had one less competitor in their midst - and every one of them hung, waiting on the next words that Silas would speak.

 

Force Power used: Force Shroud

Edited by Darth Verrin
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Silas jumped and let out a high-pitched yelp, holobooks and datapads clattered on the floor in loud thuds. He had gone pale, his freckles contrasting even more against his skin. He whipped behind and paled even further.

 

Right behind him was Darth Verrin. Silas had yet to really interact with the Sith Lord, and the redhead had somehow managed not to end up meeting him whenever he was in the library. Granted, he often borrowed and returned materials for study, but he had yet to go out of his way to actually meet up with notable Sith Lords. Not since Korriban, in any case.

 

"It's stuck in the forest, milord," Silas explained with a nervous twitch. "The savages are more likely to find it rather than the Republic."

 

Besides, his father sent missives about the status of the Republic every now and then. As far as anyone was concerned, it's rebuilding and doesn't seem to keen to chase after leads that the Sith were still around. Then again, who knew? They could be bidding their time, waiting for an opportune moment to strike.... Still, that training droid would probably be covered in moss and fauna before anyone could find it. That and as much as it pained Silas, he could ask his father to be a little more generous with the donations to cover for it.

 

Is there ANYthing you have to say for yourself that will keep me from killing you outright - or at the very least, reducing you to towel boy in the women's lockers?!  Choose your words carefully, Kitsuchi... WELL?!"

 

Silas swallowed audibly at the threat, gaze darting around the training pits. Plenty of his fellow acolytes looked rather eager at the promise of his punishment, while plenty of the Overseers present waited with interest. The redhead scowled at them and turned back to the Darth.

 

"I could easily have the droid replaced. I have enough funds." That and his father would most likely tip the Republic or try to screw the Remnant over in retaliation. Maybe? Hopefully? That was, if he ever found out that Silas died. Losing a training droid hardly seemed something to get killed over, and they were low on numbers. Killing off an acolyte seemed counterproductive on keeping the Sith alive.

 

"If you must punish me, I suppose getting a lightsaber to the chest is better than working as a towel boy," Silas deadpanned.

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Darth Verrin    2,072

Verrin went from glowering, to sighing, and then to palming his own face in one hand. He groaned a little bit, and wiped his hand downwards over his face, as if wiping away a clod of mud... or dung... that had been thrown at him. He then corrected the student.

 

"No, Kitsuchi, no. You assume far, far too much. The droid is NOT 'stuck' in the jungle, as you put it. And it didn't find its way home on its own.  It was brought back here - luckily for you - by one of the residents of this planet. Also - fortunately for you - that resident is a Sith, and had the common sense to NOT leave such a device out there where it COULD BE FOUND BY SOMEONE ELSE!!"  The last few words rose in volume along with Verrin's anger. But he quickly caught himself, and brought it back down a notch.

 

"I'm sure you DO have the funds to replace it, young man. Just as I have the 'funds' to replace YOU. But that is not our lot in life, at the present time. We are not at liberty to simply dispose of droids, or potential Sith, and 'buy new ones'. We have to cherish what we have, and TAKE CARE OF IT."

 

He caught himself again. But just then, the young man was offering possible punishments for himself, and Verrin's anger quickly flooded right back in.

 

In one rapid motion, he withdrew an overlong lightsaber hilt from his robes - the kind that was used as a double-ended staff, and not simply a single blade. He thrust the hilt out towards the boy, stopping just as he touched the redhead's chest.  His thumb was on the activation mechanism, and a furious look emanated from his eyes.

 

He said through gritted teeth, "Perhaps you didn't hear me, Kitsuchi. I just explained that destroying property and potential Sith is wasteful and dangerous. So if you're telling me to execute you, then either you aren't listening very well, or you aren't a potential Sith."

 

He then withdrew the weapon, tucking it back from whence it came. His yellow eyes scanned the room, looking for particular people he knew - his apprentices, @Vanessa Sallin, or @Holle. Or maybe @Darth Renatus herself - the one who had brought the droid back from the jungle. Even @Darth Sanguira, or @Meracus would have left an impression on this boy, though Verrin doubted he'd see the likes of the Darth in the Training Pits. He felt any one of them - or all of them - could help teach the boy some respect for the Sith. But even if none of them were around, there were plenty of young women present - aspiring Sith, and even non-Sith who were practicing to pursue more military-focused careers. There were all kinds of possibilities, and the longer Verrin looked over them, the more he thought he saw eyes wrinkling, noses twitching, and lips curling in dark smiles.

 

"If you are unable, or unwilling to listen to me... if prior instruction hasn't worked... then I can only hope that somehow, your peers will be able to educate you better on the importance of discretion and responsibility in these difficult times. You will hereby serve as 'towel boy' for the next three weeks," he added a week for good measure. "During that time, I am SURE that your fellow Sith will help you learn the lessons you need. They, being closer to you, surely know best how to get through to you."

 

 

Edited by Darth Verrin
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Holle    58

Holle had developed the habit of follwing her master about the academy throughout at least a short part of the day. It was not so much to be at his beck and call whenever he could need her, but to watch over him in the event that some ambitious knife in the dark had the audacity to try and unseat him. His power was her power, at least partially, and as his apprentice it was her dedication to her service to him that continued to ensure that she was trained to the best of his ability. She had to appreciate the respect he commanded from the students, but whether or not it was out of fear that he would strike them down or just deference to the title he possessed was a question she preferred left unanswered. Under the circumstances though, uncertainty that the new students would adhere to the rules as they should was still enough to draw her paranoia out and give her a reason to shadow her master on his walks thorugh the halls.

 

It was these walks that had afforded her the time to shore up her ability to conceal herself in the Force. Stealth and guile were certainly the things she needed to rely on in the aftermath of the Empire being crushed by the Republic. The loss of her legs certainly put things in perspective for her, as well as forced a change in her training away from a more overt and physical nature. Her failure on Dromund Kaas was just the beginning though, and that she remained alive meant that the Dark Side had purpose for her that had not been fulfilled yet. She had learned on Dromund Kaas that to conceal herself in the Force it was to manipulate the natural world, to bend the light around her that she might be unseen by casual observers. If she was visible, then her master had not yet told her, nor did the students of the academy address her. The thought that she was just creeping through the halls following Darth Verrin around had occurred to her, but there was no evidence to support that she had failed to remain hidden yet. Of course it had also crossed her mind that her master absolutely knew she was there, but did not breach the subject in their intellectual discussions.

 

Either way, Holle certainly felt pleased with herself. That self-indulgent enjoyment of perceived success also grew while witnessing her master truly lose his temper and admonish a student. She had not been a perfect apprentice, by any means, but the one thing that she understood to enrage the Zabrak was the disrepect of property that belonged to the academy or the library. It was sinful to be enjoying a day as much as she was right now, but there it was before her. An uppity rich child speaking to her master as if he was beyond reproach. These were the kinds of people she delighted in deconstructing. Holle did not wait for the call or opportunity, but rather contacted her master telepathically the moment he offered some kind of punishment, light as it was, "My Lord, if I may interject with the student?" and rendred her sadism available for use in the education of this young man. If she had her way, the work as a towel boy would be secondary to the legendary suffering she could force him to endure. Holle made certain that she remained invisible, if only because of the prospect of sudden fear and anguish of her potential victim.

 

Spoiler

Da Powah: Force Cloak, Telepathy, Force Sense

 

Edited by Holle
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"Wait - someone bought it back?" And Silas dreaded the possibility of who that someone could be. His eyes were wide and he could feel his knees going weak. He had spent hours looking for the karking thing, and he almost died for it. Some of the acolytes in the pits were there when they found him in the forest floor, running hot with fever and nursing half a dozen of infections.

 

'Don't be stupid, it could be any of those savages living here,' Silas tried to reason with himself. As long as it was not that one, then he could breathe easy. If it was, then he was karked.

 

"I'm sure you DO have the funds to replace it, young man. Just as I have the 'funds' to replace YOU. But that is not our lot in life, at the present time. We are not at liberty to simply dispose of droids, or potential Sith, and 'buy new ones'. We have to cherish what we have, and TAKE CARE OF IT."

 

"Right, I do agree with cherishing important things and taking care of them. It just happened that something more important than a hunk of metal and circuitry needed more care at the time." The redhead wanted to fidget and shift, hells, he wanted to bend down and pick up the devices scattered all over the floor. Except, he couldn't really move especially when facing someone from the Dark Council. Animals didn't survive once they took off their eyes from bigger predators, after all.

 

 

Silas was practically frozen with fear, the lightsaber just about touching his chest. He could actually feel sweat dripping down his forehead, and the teen was suddenly aware that Verrin had his thumb on the activation. Kark, he screwed up.

 

"Perhaps you didn't hear me, Kitsuchi. I just explained that destroying property and potential Sith is wasteful and dangerous. So if you're telling me to execute you, then either you aren't listening very well, or you aren't a potential Sith."

 

"Look, it was either that or you were actually planning on sending me back out.... there." He suppressed a shudder. Silas could still remember getting lost for what felt like hours, nearly dying, and getting stuck in the medbay trying to stay awake as long as possible because he was genuinely terrified that he bought his would-be-murderer home. Hopefully, he did not.

 

"If you are unable, or unwilling to listen to me... if prior instruction hasn't worked... then I can only hope that somehow, your peers will be able to educate you better on the importance of discretion and responsibility in these difficult times."

 

Well, that was it, Silas was really going to die. A lot of acolytes thought he was still alive because he was rich and undeserving of being called a Sith. Hells, he even sometimes thought he wasn't fully deserving. Except he wanted to nurture and grow on his own, and become someone powerful and respectable. He didn't want to become a footnote in history as the son of some officer and businessman, he wanted to make a name for himself. Except, it seemed like a rather pissed off Darth was ready to cut his life short, and probably wanted to make his death as painful as possible. 

 

"You will hereby serve as 'towel boy' for the next three weeks."

 

"That isn't so bad. Wait, I take it back." As far as experiences went for Silas and Sith women, the redhead had interacted with one too many. He wasn't keen at all with interacting with so many of them at a long period of time. Fifteen days felt too much.

 

"During that time, I am SURE that your fellow Sith will help you learn the lessons you need. They, being closer to you, surely know best how to get through to you."

 

"My lord, I... well, I believe we are all already very acquainted, and I am not at all interested being degraded to a lowly job." Already, some of the female acolytes were shooting him dirty looks, while some of the males looked like they'd want to be in his position. Silas wasn't insane, he could very well die the moment he stepped in. Besides, it wasn't like there was a shortage of acolytes trying to hurt or kill him in his sleep when he was recovering. Hells, he ended up trying to double the security to his room, because people kept trying to get in and Silas just wanted his peace and quiet.

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Corvus    202

It must be a joke - it had to be a joke. Corvus had watched the entire thing unfold from a distance; he didn't have much choice in the matter when the training pits themselves slowed to a grinding halt when a certain someone started yelling with some sense of authority. About a droid, about failing; and most.. importantly, about being designated as a.. towel boy? The Echani stared at the wall in front of him in search of answers, but mostly just so he didn't have to look at the shit show that was unfolding by the second. He deactivated his saber, set it on his belt and sighed heavily as he took to a bench and began retying the laces on his boots. Now then- who was involved, he mused.

 

A no name redheaded Acolyte or Apprentice, a Darth that Corvus knew as one 'Verrin'; and another bystander who curiously enough was masking their presence in all but the force. Be it habit, intuition or simply paranoia - Force Sight was still something he found himself using more often than not. Even after regaining the 'ability to see', it was trivial to someone who could use the force to achieve unparalleled vision. It's the reason he took note, and looked directly in the direction of the third party that was present. They didn't make a move to help Silas though, so Corvus took that into account. Probability was that they were on their own side in the first place; second only to the people they help loyalty to. In this situation, no one held loyalty to someone of the victims level, if only for fear of their own safety.

 

The most interesting element was the one of a Darth himself taking the time out of his day to scold him. Was it a personal grudge that caused the outburst, or simply the force-awful weather of Dathomir pushing him to the edge? It was far be it for someone as Corvus to step in before blood was shed, let alone his station to tell a Darth what to do. While he certainly had made it up the rungs in his own way past the rank of apprentice, he hadn't earned the recognition or infamy that would let him pull on such strings as of yet. Something to lament about on his own time, he concluded.

 

He finished retying his boots and leaned back against a wall, the whole conversation between them seemed more or less like a grudge after all. Was the boy of higher station in reality, was he someone who oversaw the maintenance of their droids? The fact he spent his time getting man handled in the pits spoke testament to the fact that he wasn't such an important person, and his hands didn't look much in the way of a man who did a lot of manual labor with tools or small wires. If anything, the boy looked the part of a scribe or scholar, maybe even royalty of some sort. Explained this and the previous situation quite well, actually. A scholar would've been rather useless in tracking down some malfunctioning droid in the wild, and he couldn't help but smirk to himself in his own little corner of the pits as he wondered why, exactly; such a thing had grown so far out of hand.

 

Clad in his own set of tattered, black robes - Corvus wore only the gauntlet of his actual armor ensemble; a Beskar gauntlet and arm guard that would hide the entirety of his arm while providing adequate protection beneath the cloak that hid all of his features from the neck down. Stealth wasn't his prerogative by any means; he'd only come to use the training pits himself for his own type of 'rehabilitation', but since that had derailed rather quickly he remained on the bench and quietly minded himself; while also minding the group across the Training Pits. If things were to get out of hand, or Force-forbid it someone die; it would've been rather awkward to not have a first hand account of such things for the people that would then have to deal with it.


An Overseer approached him quietly, but Corvus simply waved the question away before it ever crept out from the nervous mans throat; "Yes, tell him; see if he cares." He sounded impassive, as if it were such a trivial thing to even waste breath on at that point in time; but he knew that if the Sith were going to start ripping each other a part in the halls, a certain someone would care enough to be told. Whether or not he'd do anything was up to him, and it wouldn't have surprised the Inquisitor in the least if the same Overseer would come back and tell him 'You do it'. Such a small squabble was above the station of those that mattered.

 

Without having anything even happen to him yet, Corvus lamented as he crossed his legs and sighed: The Remnant truly did work their own to the bone.

 

Force Sight, Force Listen

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Darth Verrin    2,072
 

ooc: sorry for the delay - was hoping a few more characters would jump in

 

"My lord, I... well, I believe we are all already very acquainted, and I am not at all interested being degraded to a lowly job." The young man said, and Verrin felt his temper begin to rise again.

 

He started to explain, "Being degraded to lowly job?!  When I was a fledgeling Sith, the masters threw me into an overused morgue to clean it with my tongue as punishment - and you're going to tell me this is a lowly job?!  Frack - killing you would be -"

 

But then a voice came to Verrin's head.  He recognized it immediately, even if he hadn't heard it in a while - not telepathically, anyway. It was his own apprentice, who was apparently on hand witnessing the whole proceeding - and she wanted to interject. Verrin considered that for a moment. The last time Holle interjected, she'd killed her own slave. A time after that, she'd executed a Jedi, and practically bathed in his blood. TO be fair, such things were nicer than what Darth Tanit would do to him - though she would probably lean more towards executing the boy instead of punishment. Meracus would be more inclined to punish, but Verrin didn't see her here. Darth Renatus might actually educate the fellow, but Verrin didn't see her either.

 

Verrin glanced past the Acolyte to some of the other female students watching the event. Some looked disappointed that Silas might get away with a quick death. A young man sat on a bench across the way, appearing bored. Verrin didn't blame him - as far as such things went, this was pretty boring... or rather, it didn't affect the males in the room, aside from the subject.

 

Verrin finally decided to give the boy one more chance to redeem himself. "Are you telling me... that attending to the needs of your fellow Sith... is degrading and lowly? That it's beneath you?"

 

Verrin hesitated to turn Holle loose on the man. At the same time, Verrin wondered what would have happened in this situation back in his old Academy days? If an Acolyte said such a thing in front of Zeerah Sadaari, Belhom Lydeck, or Hesina Valenti?  For frack's sake - Hesina had a throne made from the still-living bodies of failing Acolytes. If Silas thought this was somehow demeaning, he never spent time under one of these lady's arses.

Edited by Darth Verrin

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Spoiler

It's alright~ But hey, hopefully more jumps in even right in the middle of things~ :D

 

"Being degraded to lowly job?!  When I was a fledgeling Sith, the masters threw me into an overused morgue to clean it with my tongue as punishment - and you're going to tell me this is a lowly job?!  Frack - killing you would be -"

 

Silas considered what he was going to say next. For one thing, what the Darth had said seemed... overtly ridiculous. It couldn't possibly be true. That and it was disgusting. The redhead was already having disgusted shivers when he tried imagining it. He shook his head. There's a very pissed Sith Lord that singled Silas out for some reason, in public, right in the middle of training, It was already quite humiliating and he was rather sure no one would live it down. 

 

He had no idea why he deserved to be punished over a training droid he tried to retrieve. Well, perhaps mouthing off a Darth had plenty to do with it, but shouldn't it be a non-issue since someone already returned it? Wasn't getting stuck in the infirmary and nearly dying punishment enough? Why was the Librarian making such a big deal over something so small, anyway?

 

 

"Are you telling me... that attending to the needs of your fellow Sith... is degrading and lowly? That it's beneath you?"

 

"Not exactly, my Lord," Silas answered, giving his surroundings a quick glance. He stared back at Darth Verrin, an undercurrent of fear behind his proud visage. The teen was afraid for his life, despite that though, he was absolute with his conviction. It wasn't that he thought that playing a towel boy was lowly, it's just that he had enough experience with Sith women to know where it could possibly end. Other than that, Sith women could get their own damned towels. "I'm sure that they can get it themselves, and I doubt they'd want me half a mile close to where they are and that rather makes the point and effort moot."

 

"I doubt they'd want an eighteen year old kid snooping around a place where it's supposed to be private and away from men in the first place." Silas let out a sharp breath, blowing some of the longer strands that fell right in front of his face. He pushed them back with his left hand before continuing. "And I don't think I would be useful for manual labor either - unless the goal is to ultimately see humiliated and fail whatever task you deem suitable as punishment."

 

Silas frowned, feeling extremely uneasy at this line of thinking. If hard labor was unsuitable, and research too easy - then there was one logical solution in punishing him: pain. He didn't receive anything too severe or life-threatening, except from that Sith woman in the forests, so the redhead was sure that his pain tolerance was pathetically low. Unless... it wouldn't be too bad? Sith hells, there was no way out, was there?

 

 

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Darth Verrin    2,072

Verrin cocked his head, considering the young man's statements. He replied, "It sounds to me like you're trying to get out of both punishment and work, Kitsuchi."

 

Verrin then eyed the people gathered once more. There were a fair number of women in attendance, and a number of men too, and most were watching the proceeding with some measure of interest. The Force told Verrin that a few were somewhat bored, expecting the boy to be dead or maimed already. Others seemed more curious - probably wondering whether the target could talk his way out of the situation. Still others - and most of these were women - were almost licking their chops for a chance to pick on and demean Silas. A few of those were even thinking darker thoughts - probably of having an 'accident' happen to him.

 

The easy answer was to administer the punishment, and let them have the boy. It was no great reveal that any of them could 'get their own towels', or toss used ones into the laundry bin. They didn't need Silas to do the job. Verrin needed Silas to understand the gravity of his carelessness. It was more than simply losing a droid in the jungle. The matter, in Verrin's mind, was the callous failure to take responsibility for the situation - for losing the droid, yes, but for not recovering it, and then for 'giving up' and leaving it. The droid had been brought back, which was a good thing, but it didn't solve the problem that allowed it to escape the facility in the first place. That problem, Verrin was sure, stood in front of him, trying to find any excuse not to 'serve time'. Of all the punishments Verrin could have delivered on him, he thought this one was fairly low-key. If his apprentice hadn't jumped at the chance to interject, Verrin probably would have seen the problem inherent with throwing the boy to the wolves.

 

He frowned, wishing @Darth Renatus had made an appearance. He spoke aloud, but not to Silas. "Apprentice.  See to it that the punishment is carried out. But also see to it that unless he does something warranting it, that he survives the ordeal relatively intact. We need Sith that have been tempered by the hammer of anger upon the anvil of pain - not irresponsible students who cannot accept consequences for their actions. Certainly not Sith who are against a little suffering in order to grow in power. Make it so."

 

He then looked more directly at the young man,  daring him and cautioning him in a single glare. Should he try to wriggle out of this a second time, Verrin might just be inclined to allow him to spend the next three weeks in a kolto tank instead of a couple of hours a day in a locker room.

 

Force Power used: Force Sense

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Holle    58

Holle had been watching and waiting the whole time, kept invisible by the Force. The young man before her had a poor understanding of the way the Academy worked if he felt he could debate his own terms of punishment for failure with Darth Verrin. It was the purest form of disrespect for her master's authority. Her frustrations were only further compounded by the showing of her master's temper turning into what she felt was going to do nothing to see to it that he learned his place. While he had blown up over the misplacement of a droid, he had opted for something that, to her, seemed like a punishment out of place in the Academy. Perhaps she had missed some kind of contextual threat that such work could level on him, but she had ideas of what he deserved for his clear disregard for the hiearchy that kept things operating smoothly around here.

 

Her anger and irritation had compounded for multiple reasons by this point. That the boy continued debating his usefulness meant he was completely unaware of what the situation meant to him. Darth Verrin had instructed him to do something, and he refused it. It was simple as that, so when she was unleashed to see to it that his punishment was carried out she delighted in dropping her invisibility, "Do not presume to tell the master of this academy your place." she spat with a familiar vitriol. Holle followed up on this immediately by throwing a sharp right elbow toward the back of his head. The Zeltron imagined she would have an easier time punishing the boy for his transgressions if she were to daze him before going to work teaching the hard lesson she had just been instructed to deliver.

 

Spoiler

Not a whole lot I reckon but it got something out.

 

Edited by Holle
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