Displacement in the Old Republic, Chapter 24

"It's not fair, if you know everything about me, you had better start coughing up some of your own information."

I groan, partially ignoring Mission, and partly because I'm heaving this massive plate of armour back over my chest. Given how I'm somehow even more tired than when I went to sleep, getting ready for a possible combat situation is even less appealing than normal. Maybe I'll break a limb or get beat up again, since that's my usual approach to everything. Somehow, with the exception of Mission wailing on me a few times, I've done okay recently, which is pretty surprising.

"Well, I'm not actually from Coruscant," I cheekily reply, finally getting my gear in place. Heavy, as usual. I grab my blaster as well, throwing it on my belt, along with a few extra power cells. "If you hadn't guessed."

Mission either didn't really pick up on the depth of my sarcasm, or she's not showing a big reaction to it. "Nope, you're from the mysterious place where games are made from other realities."

"Yeah, I guess. That's Earth. Though, honestly, I don't really know if this is just a single case or not. It's not even as if things are the same as they were in the game. You're not fourteen, for example."

"You're saying I was a kid in the game?" Mission frowns. Oops, I haven't really mentioned that whole thing before this. Ah, probably should have kept that small piece of information to myself.

"Erm, yeah, sort of…" I stammer, trying to steer the conversation more effectively. "Like I said, things are different. The big picture is pretty similar, though…"

"Well, I'm not fourteen," the Twi'lek emphasises. "Try eighteen. I know Griff left me on Taris when I was younger, but that young? Yeesh. No wonder you didn't like him."

"Yes, if you're eighteen, that means I'm older than you," I grin, taking whatever amusing advantage I can rub in Mission's face. For once, that is.

"No, you're not."

"I'm nineteen, actually… Guess you don't know me that well," I reply, looking into the small mirror in my locker. Armour seems to be on right, then. I turn around, seeing that Mission seems to be ready as well. "Apparently, I missed by birthday a week or two ago. I don't have my family to remind me of that, I guess."

"Not my fault you don't tell me anything," Mission raises an eyebrow. "Besides, age doesn't mean anything if I can at least hit a moving target that's further than five feet away."

"Low blow," I frown. "Brains over brawns, you know. So what if I can't shoot someone from twenty billion miles, anyway?"

"It means that you get shot by someone, and then you die."

I raise an eyebrow. "Well, that's a bit brutal. Why is it that in this universe everything is solved with gunfire and killing everyone? I can get that HK likes it, he's a bit of psychopath, but everyone else?"

Mission laughs, lightly shaking her head. "I suppose you'd like to have lunch with Darth Malak and discuss the finer points of morality and end the war with a debate? That usual on Earth?"

I take a few steps out of the cabin, heading for my spot outside the ladder to the gun turrets. "There were wars, but smaller… I suppose. The fate of all life didn't rest on them, or at least I didn't think so. And I most certainly wasn't involved with any of them. It's a very different place, you know. Not better, just… different. At least, I think so," I finish, realising that I'm sort of stammering over my explanation, and quickly move to wrap this bit up. "I could have been involved, I guess, I did think about going into the military back on Earth. I'm glad I didn't though."

"I can shoot, but I'm not like Canderous or Carth, either," Mission notes. "Taris was a rough place, and you had to know how to use a blaster, especially in the Lower City. It might have been a bit harsh, but that's honestly just how it is."

"And the Sith are the aluminium-wearing fools that we get to kill," I moan, thinking back to the planet that I first arrived on. It seems like it was so very long ago, but at the same time, I do remember it quite well. The Upper City with the Sith, the cantina and drinks, and the Lower City. And the Rakghouls, sewers, Vulkars and a Rancor. In all honesty, I can't say that I would list that planet on my favourites. With the exception of the rather hostile blokes present on both planets, Kashyyyk and Manaan were quite nice. If I ever get the chance to go back to either of them, I'll have to remember not to go past the civilised areas. It's obviously not a good idea, unless being eaten by monsters is a lot of fun. Seems to be a common occurrence around me… There were those Kath Hounds on Dantooine I had a run-in with while we were there... Monsters are everywhere in this galaxy, and they will be on Korriban, too!

I groan aloud, realising that there's quite a few things awaiting us on Korriban, including those stupid flying things in the cave. And assuming everything is as it should be, there's also a Terentatek in there. Oh, joy, the news just gets better all the time. Not to mention the fact that there's quite a few Sith on this stupid planet.

"What?" Mission quickly asks, stepping out of the cabin and into the hallway, "You didn't forget to put a power cell in your blaster or something, did you?"

"No," I glare dramatically, "I just remembered that there's a crap-load of Shyracks and Sith here. I hate animals, since they all seem to be after me."

"Maybe you shouldn't let them!" Darius' voice calls out from the main hold. "Or you could actually shoot at them."

"That's so funny," I snort, following Mission into the larger open area of the Ebon Hawk. Much to my surprise, though, Darius isn't in his usual blue Jedi robes. Thankfully, he hasn't started wearing black ones with a mask. I'm not ready for a Dark Side Revan, and I don't think I could handle it. The fact that I'd have a good chance of dying on the Unknown World along with Mission and Zaalbar and Jolee. Better not think about that...

Regardless, Darius has the same armour he wore earlier on this quest, a medium armour plated in gold, a lot like the one I'm wearing. I think he said something about it being from Echani design. It's mostly just a chest piece, same as my military armour, but it sure looks nicer, a few dents, burns and bug guys aside. And judging by how little it affected Darius' combat performance on Kashyyyk, I'd have to say that it's a lot lighter. Or he just doesn't notice. He is Darth Revan the bad-ass, after all.

I squint, noticing that there's not a lightsaber in Darius' possession, but a blaster. Is it Halloween already?

No… Oh… A disguise. Damn, that was more obvious than I apparently realised. Good thing I didn't ask about that, but I might as well add the information I do know. "You know they don't care if you look like one of the Jedi, right? They ought to just say how they always get fallen Jedi on Korriban. Some of the potential students won't like you, but really, they'll be cross either way."

Darius scowls. "You should've told me that earlier, and then I wouldn't have had to wear this."

"Yeah, well," I shrug, leaning against a surprisingly cold bulkhead, "Just don't go around broadcasting the fact that you're Revan. They won't believe you and laugh in your face."

"I take it your knowledge encompasses the fairly obvious stuff, then," Carth dryly says, the older man standing behind Darius, closer to the cockpit. Does the ship just fly itself, then? We're still in hyperspace, judging by all the blue lights from the windows, but it sure doesn't make me feel any safer. Not that is really anyone's concern.

I frown. "There's a Twi'lek named Yuthura, she's the only one that can get us into the Academy. From there, the headmaster has a bunch of tasks we can do to get prestige. If you win, there's going to be a test you have to do alone with the headmaster. That's where you'll find the Star Map."

"Then we just leave?" Mission asks, seemingly not too worried about it. Oh, I haven't gotten to the good part. I'll have to fill Darius in on some of the details about the Star Map tomb. Weren't there two Terentateks in the cave? And the whole special ice grenade thing. Is that too much detail to go into? I don't want to hide anything from him, but at the same time I don't want to imply that he needs me to tell him every single thing that I know. I ought to find some form of a balance.

I shake my head, thinking back to some of the more difficult sections of the game – which can only mean it'll be even worse in real life. "Well, there's the bit where the entire Sith Academy goes and attacks us. At once. Students, Masters, guards… All of them."

"Statement: I enjoy the opportunity for slaughter, master!"

There's HK. I look away from the glowing orange eyes further down the Hawk's hallway, and throw my face into my palm. Predictable, and if this was different, that would have been pretty funny. But, since we're involved with the so called slaughter... Not so much. We all sort of awkwardly ignore HK's profound exclamation, quietly shuffling and none of us look the assassin droid in the eye… or rather, photoreceptor.

"I want to avoid that if at all possible," Darius frowns, "You're going to fill me in on any details that'll prevent a massacre in the Sith Academy as we go along. But let's first worry about finding this Yuthura."

"Well, do I get a cool armour to disguise myself?"

"Nobody cares that much about you," Mission points out, "Unless one of the Sith we didn't kill on Manaan or the Leviathan happens to recognise a human teenager they briefly ran across."

I sigh with exasperation. "Alright, alright. You just want me to look like an ass in this heavy armour. Still, once we touch down, let's go for the cantina. Around those parts is the Twi'lek we need to get a hold of."

Carth doesn't seem quite as willing to believe what I'm saying. That's the Carth I know, isn't it? Untrusting to the very end. "You're sure the colony doesn't have some sort of defences that are going to target our ship the instant we enter Korriban's atmosphere?" Our shields aren't designed to take much firepower from land-based weapons. It's a smuggling ship, not a battle cruiser."

HK joins back into the conversation. "Analysis: My recently restored records indicate that the sole establishment on the planet of Korriban, Dreshdae, is maintained by Czerka Corporation. Czerka Arms and Manufacturing's Korriban branch is small, but draws in significant income, possibly from the Sith activity on the planet. With the exception of the Academy, there is very little Sith military presence."

"It wouldn't surprise me if there's a full-sized fleet in a neighbouring system," Mission comments, "But if they're in a hurry to get applicants into the Academy, the Sith aren't going to scare them away. Besides, a full school of Dark Jedi can handle things on the surface."

I nod. "I don't know for sure, but I bet Mission is right. I remember from…" I still feel so uncomfortable saying the game, which I've just lost. I wonder if anyone plays that back on Earth… Stupid, stupid game. "I remember that there weren't a whole lot of fighters or guards or anything of that sort. Besides, the idea of flying straight into Sith territory is enough to keep Republic or Jedi forces out of here."

"I don't like the idea of just walking into the Academy," Carth says. "It seems a bit too convenient."

"Until we get everyone all ready to kill us," I admit, thinking back to the whole ordeal with how the Sith are going to all fight us at once when we try to run out of the Academy after getting the blasted Star Map. I look up from my shoes to see Darius sort of glaring at me, and I sort of remember that he said he wanted to avoid that. Oh, right, right. Avoid being attacked by everyone, which means there's a very high probability of death. When I arrived in this dimension, I guess I never really sat down and figured out the worst parts of the game. The Academy coming up, as well as the Unknown World and the Star Forge?

Oh, god. I'm going to die!

All this time, I've been worried about Darius turning into Revan again, and killing half the party. I pretty much suck at fighting anything that moves, and if I lose all my hit points, I will fall down. Dead, that is. In real-life, you don't just come back up after the battle.

Breathe, Stephen. Remember to breathe at a consistent paste, you're going to freak out and hyperventilate.

I realise that Darius is still looking at me. "Of course, we're going to find another solution," I correct myself, my heart still pounding, a beating drum resonating within my skull.

The former Lord of the Sith nods with approval, looking thoughtful for a few moments before turning his attention to the first member of our group to join the party, Carth. "Do you and T3 have an estimation until we drop to normal-space?"

We all watch the Republic captain tinker with a control panel on the centre table for a few moments, presumably consulting the navigation systems for the ship. "Less than three minutes. Once we're in the Horuset system, it will take very little time before we land in Dreshdae, since Korriban is the only planet in the area."

"Very well," Darius says, moving away from the main hold and towards the front cockpit, "Just in case the Sith have the brilliant idea to shoot the ship that escaped from the Leviathan out of the sky, let's be prepared. Same positions as our escape."

Still caught in my own thoughts, I take a few seconds before I nod my acknowledgement, at which point Darius is already gone. He really has something on his mind, he isn't acting the same anymore. I guess learning that you're actually Revan would do something to your head. I throw a shrug to Mission, and make my own way to the ladder just between the hold and engine room, where I find Canderous casually leaning against the bulkhead, clad in his usual heavy armour.

After what feels like a half-dozen times, I'm used to the sound of the engines as the Hawk drops out of hyperspace, and the sublight drives kick in. I've made a slight effort to recall facts about the Star Wars universe since I've been here, not to mention I've pulled a bit data from the ship's libraries. A bit like Wikipedia, really. I've been pulling up broad knowledge so that I don't look like a fool all the time. At least it doesn't look odd that I've been doing some reading now, since everyone here knows my origin story.

Now, I wonder if those libraries have anything about not getting killed by a thousand Sith soldiers, Dark Jedi, and armed droids. Oh, and there's Rancors on the Unknown World, too. Assuming that I make it that far. Which, to be honest is quite an assumption.

Why can't this be more like the game? Then I could level up past level zero. Because I've got lousy stats. No player in their right mind would pick me. Good thing there's no three person limit. Otherwise I'd be really familiar with the Hawk's walls.

At least if the Sith do decide to shoot at us right now, I've got a big gun, and I don't have to rely on my own lousy skills to save myself. Those haven't proven to be useful so far.

"What are you moping about now?" Canderous snorts, not moving from the bulkhead. I ignore him for a moment, holding my breath for just a few seconds – something I do at times to prevent myself from blurting out a dumb response that's only going to piss people off. I normally have to employ it with HK, though.

I take a look at the ladder to the gun turrets, not eager to climb back in there. "You know, all the good stuff. Death, destruction, and everyone dying. Things that would make that assassin droid happy as all hell."

I think Canderous was expecting that, especially if he overheard the conversation that was going on just a few feet away. Besides, now I have to be open with everyone. More or less, I don't think I need to say about KotOR 2… All the Jedi gone? Not at the moment. "Every warrior has to face their fears, and even I thought you had managed to do that so far. Even the training from your actual homeworld can't be that bad."

"Oh, shut up," I groan, once again checking to make sure I'm ready for combat, if worse comes to worse. Blaster, armour, all good.

Knowing me, I'm sure there won't be any sort of peaceful resolution with the Sith. And, knowing my luck, I'll be swept up in the middle of things, and get a few limbs broken or severed.

As fun as it would have been to get in another gun turret competition with Canderous, the flight to Korriban was actual kind of boring, to be honest. The only noise was the engine, and while I know there's no noise in space or anything like that, it's freaking me out. I feel like I should be able to hear a bunch of Sith fighters flying by, laser cannons pointed right at us.

Still, I did get the enjoyment of sitting in the bottom gun turret, in a tiny, cramped compartment. I hope that's not my usual spot, because I think I'm starting to get claustrophobic down there. I saw a few of those Sith fighters way off in the distance, but I couldn't really be sure. Though, I could barely see Korriban, and I had to get out once we were close to entering the atmosphere… Something about the shields for entering the atmosphere, I don't know.

I stretch my legs, then switch to pacing around the conference table as the ship sets down. I've done this quite a few times, and the temporary rocking motion passes quickly, followed by the hiss of the loading ramp opening. We're here, then. Korriban is just a few meters away. I know I've been really anxious before about certain planets on this trip… But I think this is even worse. But can it really be worse than the Rancor, the Sith on the Leviathan, Jagi, Kashyyyk's Shadowlands and Manaan's underwater station?

Well, I don't know… It very well could be.

"You ready?" Mission asks, the woman standing perfectly still, a stark contrast to my rather rapid pacing.

"Not really," I admit, deeply frowning. "I don't know if it's because I'm out in the open about what I know, or what… But I'm sort of panicking right now."

"Don't you always do that, though?"

Before I can come up with an adequate response, Darius and Carth quickly stride in from the cockpit, which sends a bit of a shiver up my spine for a couple reasons. First off, it might be some sort of psychological trick, but Darius seems to be looking more and more like Darth Revan all the time. Just the way he holds himself, the look in his eye. I just don't know. Regardless, the other problem is with Carth. Or rather, Dustil. That issue could come up really fast, and I'm just now patching things up with everyone, including the ever suspicious Carth…

In the words of Sam Beckett… Oh, boy.

Everyone else comes into the main hold rather quickly; Jolee, Canderous, Zaalbar, HK and T3 are all in here now as well. The two Jedi are clever enough to be wearing 'normal' clothes and hiding their lightsabers, while everyone else looks mostly as armed and deadly as normal. I would say HK doesn't look out of place as an armed guard, as neither does Canderous as a mercenary. Now that I think about it, Zaalbar looks pretty decent as a thug as well. Mission, Carth and I are using pistols – not out of the ordinary for somewhere like Korriban. Or anywhere in this blasted, screwed up universe.

I'd like to note that I've never had to walk around with a gun on Earth. Quite a bit safer, I think.

"Let's go," Darius mutters, "Just remember, be discrete."

I notice Darius' eyes rest on me for a fraction of a second longer than anyone else. Discrete, right. With the exception of Mission, I managed to hide the truth for quite a while. Oh, and HK-47, that droid, outing me in front of everyone. That droid, I've got to get back on him. Psychotic meatbag indeed.

Cross as can be, I stomp out of the Ebon Hawk, and into the hangar bay in Dreshdae. I'm on Korriban… Not a bad place, plenty of mountains, red sky… Oh, and a load of Sith, speaking of which… I think it's just about time I try to tell Carth about Dustil.

"Carth," I call out, deciding to try and pull the same kind of move that I did with Mission on Tatooine, get things started right as we leave the Hawk. This should be quite a bit easier, simply because now everyone in the party knows about my screwed up origins.

Though really, I've got a feeling that if I don't mention this right now… I don't know, but it's something that I would rather avoid. Not to mention, Carth and I have never gotten along that well – especially not after the whole Leviathan mission. So maybe this right here can at least get the ball rolling. So to speak.

I take a moment to bite down on my tongue after I've gotten the attention of the Republic soldier. "There was something I didn't mention back there. I wasn't sure if I should have or not; Darius seemed to be really focused on the mission."

Carth sort of blankly stares at me, looking damn sceptical. "There's always something with you, isn't there? And I figured you would pull something like this, and I'm glad to see that it didn't even take a full day. I suggest you get to the point already, I've had enough people pulling my leg."

"Right, sorry," I quickly apologise, nervously glancing at our new surroundings. Get to the point, you stupid idiot. "If I'm right, and if this plays out like I think it's going to, there's someone we're going to run into here. Your son, Dustil."

Bomb has been dropped.

Much as I expected, Carth double-takes, stopping behind the massive, lumbering Wookiee in front of him. The rest of the crew, though, has also come to a stop, right in front of a human Czerka employee who seems to be talking to Darius for whatever reason. Judging by what I know, I'd say that we're being forced to pay money to dock here. Ah, whatever. Darius ought to take care of that. Bastila isn't here to provide a moral lecture

"Dustil? He's alive? Are you sure? You didn't… misread your source?"

"Oy!" I snap, "I'd rather not broadcast that on this planet, you know." That's exactly what I need. The Sith would have a field day. The only positive would be that I could possibly see Bastila again. I'm not sure if that's even much of a positive. With any luck, though, that'll have to wait until the Unknown World. "But I'm sure, mate. He's an adult now, I guess about my age. But, umm… The bad part is that he's here, in the-."

"Carth? Carth Onasi is that you?" The Czerka lackey shouts, and nearly right away I recognise his voice. Jordo, that friend of Carth's that'll show up on a random planet without much warning or reason, really. Much like Griff's former girlfriend. Oh, the joys of triggering those quests. Alas, the usual luck seems to have rolled in a manner that our real-life NPC quest giver has showed up. Right when I started to explain things. Of course.

"Jordo? Is that you?" Carth says, turning his attention away from my rather important conversation.

"It is you! I knew it when I saw you get out of the Hawk! You old space dog, how have you been? I thought you would have been fighting on a ship, far from here."

"I was. Then I crashed," Carth bluntly explains, which only seems to amuse his old friend. However, Darius doesn't seem to be humoured at all. I can't make up my mind if he looks bored or slightly cross.

Jordo doesn't notice our leader's growing agitation, however. "That's pretty rich. I can't imagine what it would take to keep you from the fight. Must have something to do with your friends here, eh?"

"You bet," Darius interjects, moving his hand quickly from his blaster pistol and moves it right across Jordo's face. "We don't have to pay the docking fee. We can go on in."

"Uh, you don't have to pay the docking fee," the Czerka employee says, seemingly unaware of what Darius had just done. "You can all go on in. Carth, I'd like to talk to you first, if that's alright."

I silently watch as Carth and Darius exchange tense looks. Thankfully, the former Dark Lord just nods. I stand firmly next to Carth, nodding when Darius glances at me. Hopefully that'll get my point across without saying anything.

"We'll be in the colony," Darius informs us, already moving towards the landing bay's exit. "You two can find us in there when you're done. Remember, we've got work to do, and time is not on our side."

"You're working with a real ball-buster," Jordo mutters, as soon as Darius is out of sight. "I almost forgot how the military types are. I haven't dealt with anyone like that since… Well, not since Telos, actually. It's a shame about home. But I moved on, that's why I'm working with Czerka."

"Still, you going to introduce me to your more well-mannered friend then?" Jordo finishes, raising an eyebrow, extending a hand in my direction.

"Stephen," I say, not adding my surname, but I do shake Jordo's gloved hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Jordo smirks, "Listen, Carth. I wasn't sure if you knew about Dustil. I saw him on my last stop in the Sith Academy. He didn't recognise me, but I didn't think that you would have known he was there, since he's joined their ranks there…"

Carth blinks. "You mean that he's one of the Sith in the Academy?"

Jordo solemnly nods. "I didn't figure you knew. He's a student there, suited up in their outfit and everything. At least he's alive, though… My condolences to your wife, I heard what happened during the attack."

"I didn't know. Thanks for telling me, Jordo." Carth puts a great deal of emphasis on the man's name, which I can tell is some sort of jab at me for not explaining things earlier. Damn my luck, useless crap.

Jordo's happier mood seems to vanish, and the man speaks in a much more hushed tone. "Sure, no problem. It was good to see you again, Carth. Hope everything works out with Dustil."

I nod my own farewell, as the older man walks off to tend to his own duties. "Well, there you have it, from the horse's mouth. Dustil will be in the Academy, and we're going to have to convince him to leave. He's not going to like you being there, I'll tell you that."

"You're full of surprises, aren't you?" Carth scowls. "We're going to have get Darius and everyone else involved. And if Revan isn't so focused on getting to Malak, maybe we can spare enough time to get Dustil out of here before it's too late."

I take a deep breath. "That seems to be the theme recently. Speaking of time, let's see if we can catch to everyone else before they manage to get in a huge fight with a bunch of Sith thugs."

The older man takes a deep breath, seemingly putting aside his own issues for the time being. I've got no doubt that we'll deal with that later, but for right now Carth and I start heading towards the single door sealing the Sith colony from the landing bay where we've parked the Ebon Hawk. There's a green-skinned Twi'lek clad in the grey uniform that all the Sith have been using, standing guard over the door, I guess. He doesn't say anything, but taps his console quite a few times and the door opens in front of us. Much like in the game, the colony of Dreshdae is a bunch of grey metal corridors – similar the Leviathan. Except, the walls aren't at an awful angle. They're somewhat normal. For a Sith place, anyways.

"Do you think it's likely that any of the students or Sith here are going to attack us? I'm not exactly feeling comfortable here."

"Just don't do anything particularly stupid," I whisper, noticing that the two of us are getting an usual amount of looks from the Sith that are pretty much lined up in here.

"That's your area of expertise," Carth adds, much to my dissatisfaction.

I ignore the quip, keeping my eyes straight ahead, seeing that there's a Sith of some sort at the end of this first hallway – along with a few humans and a Twi'lek are sort of cowering in front of him. Oh, great. I take it this is one of the guys who are also aiming to get into the Academy. I hate competition, and this might be of the worst kind. Seriously, like I told Darius – some of these Sith have one hell of an attitude problem.

I try to just slip past… And nope. Of course not. Things are never that simple, are they?

"What's this?" the human taunts, attention no longer focused on the collection of beings in front of him. "Don't tell me, you're another young, stupid hopeful. But if that's the case, why have you brought your father with you?"

I can practically bathe in the sarcasm. Not even thinking about it, I reach for my blaster pistol. Bad idea… I relax just a bit, but the Sith notices what I nearly did. Naturally, he laughs. Cocking bully. That's all these Sith really are, right? Bullies with red lightsabers.

"Think you can use that weapon against me?" The Sith chuckles, aggravating me even further. I can practically feel Carth breathing down my neck, and I wouldn't put it past him to hold me back if things get too nasty or I do something really thick. "Do it, then. Let's see it, unless you're just a coward with a blaster. You'll never get anything better than that weapon."

I grit my teeth, ignoring the awful sensation it makes when I do so.

The nameless Sith keeps going, though. "I didn't think so. Does anyone even have any use for you, then? You're just a kid with a blaster. We don't want reckless orphans, either-."

Whatever the bloke was getting ready to say is cut off, given how I somehow reached for my blaster and pistol-whipped him clean across the face.

That wasn't exactly the best decision I've ever made. When I come back to my senses, I stare at the firearm clenched my hand, my knuckles white and my body practically shaking with anger. And I can't really place my finger on a solid reason why I just did that. I've honestly said worse to myself. Thought lower of myself. But it's different to hear it from a Sith, and I'm sorely tempted to pull the trigger a few times for this guy.

Next thing I really know, my blaster flies out of my hand and into the wall on my right side. My ankle snaps to one side, as if I had taken a particularly poor step. Pain shoots from my right foot all the way up to my waist – the same side that I've mutilated a surprising number of times already on this journey. Trying my best to put aside the pain, I look up to see the same Sith addressing his band of followers.

"So, what should I do to this whelp? A bit of Force lightning? Or should I simply kill him? There is no place for weak amongst the Sith."

"Sod off," I clench my teeth, whispering, and refusing to reveal the true amount of pain I'm in right now. Damn, this ought to teach me a lesson. Provided I don't get killed first. That's a very real possibility at this rate.

The Sith above me starts to look a little bit strange, all the colours are super messed up. The details in the background are fuzzy, and the edges of my vision are kind of fading. Whew, that was one blow to my head, I think. At least Mission never smacked me this hard. Because things are getting worse… and darker, too. The sound of the lights above sound like their coming from a seashell… By the sea shore!

Now there's a steady beeping, that's pretty weird. Sleep sounds awfully good right about now, I've got to say…

A voice sort of echoes in the back of my skull, and I don't think it's my conscience. A dude, I think. "I mean, he is in some form of trouble again. At this rate, he will slip into unconsciousness, and there's no guarantee that death will not occur in the next few minutes."

The next voice sounds a lot like Selena, I think… "There isn't anything we can do, but I'll be damned if we have to push anyone else through another anomaly. They're waiting for the eventual results…"

The sound cuts out, much to my own confusion. I don't even have time for that woman, for goodness' sake. I'm going to get killed!

Snapping me out of my daze, my throat violently constricts, cutting off air to my lungs. I can barely breathe, which isn't much of a trade-off. This might be it, then. Choked to death as if I was one of Darth Vader's lackeys.

"Don't you have something better to do?" Carth says, probably scowling as usual. The vice around my neck vanishes, oxygen now flowing into my body. Oh, god, thank you. I won't complain as much anymore… Though if I'm being honest, I can't see if Carth is up to anything. Noticeably, I can't see whatever the Sith is doing either. Wait… I'm complaining again. That effort lasted quite a while.

I can hear him snort, though. "Saving the brash, impulsive fool? I hope you're not looking for a spot in the Academy. I've got better things to do than entertain you lot."

I don't even think about getting up, not even when a metal boot comes crashing down on my injured leg as the Sith leaves to do whatever it is he finds so interesting. I try to steady my breathing, crawling up against the nearby wall. Thankfully, the only person here that seems to be paying any attention to this ordeal is Carth. That's more than enough embarrassment for me at the moment.

"So, what to do think? Think my past helps at all?" I miserably mutter, basically crawling until my armoured back smacks against the small bench bolted onto the wall. "This is third time I've gotten screwed over in a stupid way. And you know what? I don't even belong here…"

"None of us really do, but moping doesn't do a damn," Carth says, "You don't belong here, but I can damn well ask you where Bastila is at now." I don't say anything, much more content to wallow in my own self-pity.

"Look," I mutter, "I'm just saying nobody gave me a paper to sign, they just threw me out here and I lost everything and had to lie to the only people that helped me. You know what the last thing I ever said to my parents was?" I pause for a moment, trying to remember, my heart rapidly sinking. Not coming up with anything, I sort of take another look around, partly because I'm not sure where my blaster ended up. "I can't even remember. But it doesn't even matter does it?"

Carth just sort of blinks, but follows my gaze, and retrieves my weapon from under a nearby bench. Thank god all the bystanders walked off, I feel… embarrassed. Like I've been disowned at school all over again. The Republic soldier kicks the weapon towards me, the gun sliding across the floor. I can't tell for sure, but it kind of looks like one of the sides is dented, as well as the handle.

Once I grab the pistol, Carth finally says something in reply. "It does – but what we're doing here matters even more. Look at what we're doing, and where we are. We're all needed, as useless as you might feel, we've got to get through this."

"I am useless," I admit, getting to my feet. I don't put a lot of pressure on my bad leg, so it takes a few more seconds. "You could probably recruit a monkey and it would be more useful. Now all I am is a glorified source of information. Yippee."

"As that may be," Carth comments, "We need to find Darius, before he gets admitted into the Academy without us."

"Yeah, right," I scoff, starting to carefully walk again. I try my best to push the past few minutes behind us, "I'm alright, thanks for asking. They're going to be further down. There's some Sith thugs, so they might be held up dealing with some jokers."

Carth starts walking in that direction, and I notice that he might not be the best choice for anyone in disguise. His back is completely rigid, stiff. Military types, I guess. At least we're somewhere where that doesn't matter too much. I follow the officer down the corridor and into a much larger room, with a shop in the middle, run by a Rodian. There's a few more Sith out and about here, mostly around the edges of the room.

There's a few right by the next doorway, with a blonde woman in the middle. Oh, her. I hate her, if I remember correctly. Lashowe, I think her name was…

"Watch out for this one," I whisper, "I think Darius might have already gone through here, her and her gang were trying to get a laugh out of them."

One of Lashowe's minions takes note of Carth and I, loudly chuckling when we're within a "Oh, look, more of them." The Sith raises his voice, getting everyone else in Lashowe's little group focused on us. "Want to get these ones, Lashowe? They don't even look like they're fallen Jedi. Should be easy prey."

"Alright, I'll get that orange droid you just met after you if you don't piss off," I frown, trying to think of something that'll get them away from us and off tormenting someone else.

I'm not sure that'll work, and the same Sith quickly retorts. "You haven't got a clue, do you, kid?"

I can see Carth's arm barely inch towards his sidearm, but Lashowe sounds almost bored with this whole situation. "Let them go, I'm not in the mood to screw with anyone else. We're going back to the Academy, before scum like them try and join up as well."

I watch the four Sith, including Lashowe sulk back through the next corridor, towards the Valley where the Academy was in KotOR. That damn woman, I really hope that Darius does the whole holocron quest. I just stare blankly as the Sith walk off, shrugging at Carth. After another moment, Carth and I head down the hallway, which is slanted downwards, much like the design found on the Leviathan.

"Looks like the droid was right," Carth points out, "Czerka seems to have quite a sizeable set-up here. I guess that crippling their operations on Kashyyyk didn't actually do anything worthwhile here."

I take a peek at the Czerka office as we pass by, but I only add a comment at the lovely little cantina sign, reading the print aloud. "The Drunk Side. Well, that's something else, eh?"

"At least Darius and the others are in there," Carth dryly notes, nodding in the direction of the golden armoured human just inside the doorway, flanked by everyone else in the party – HK and Canderous towering over the rest. Well, except for Zaalbar. Unlike Taris and Tatooine, there isn't a whole lot of noise inside. A few clients are busy inside; either in Czerka or Sith uniforms are quietly drinking, but not talking. The sound of glass scraping against metal is the only really prominent noise, but otherwise it's just the flow of liquid into glasses, and the hum of overhead lighting. It's kind of eerie, just like the rest of this damned colony.

"What did you do to yourself?" Mission asks, looking damn confused. I quickly glance at Carth, who doesn't answer for me. Huh. As much as Carth doesn't really like me it seems like, he didn't just say something along the lines of: yeah, Stephen went and got pissed off, got himself screwed over and was all angst-mode for a moment.

So, if we're going to omit that fact, how did I get strangled to death, and nearly break my leg, again? Uh, first thing that comes to mind! Quick! "Uh, I tripped."

Mission sighs, but it's HK that delivers the last blow. "Commentary: Perhaps you would like a cybernetic replacement, mentally unstable meatbag?"

I make a rude face, but wipe it once Darius glares at me. Fine, take the bleeding droid's side, would you!

"Did you get into the Academy?" Carth asks, the man steering the subject away from the usual. "At the very least, you seem to have found the Twi'lek back there."

Yep, there's Yuthura, sulking back there. Thanks to her dark outfit, darker skin and tattoos, she practically blends in back there. Even from this distance, though, I can spot the glint of a lightsaber strapped to her belt. I do love those, since they can effortlessly cut limbs off. Possibly my own limbs.

Much to my surprise, Darius smirks, pulling up a black medallion. "We're due at the Academy in about fifteen minutes. They're bringing all the new candidates there to meet with the headmaster. We've run into one of those recruits, real piece of work. Sounds like there's a bunch of tests to determine who gets the apprenticeship."

"Not the best method," Canderous snorts, "Five applicants and the Sith only get one Dark Jedi from all that? No wonder they haven't been able to take the Core Worlds."

"Perhaps the Sith are more concerned with strong warriors, not numbers," Zaalbar growls from next to Canderous. "Especially if there are able to use that Star Forge to build ships."

"Yeah, but the Dark Jedi haven't been that competent, Big Z," Mission pipes up, though she's still looking at me strangely. Do I look that bad? "Remember Malak's apprentice?"

Darius' attitude quickly changes, smugness evaporating in a bit of a flash. "Remember Malak. Not to mention, you would have been surprised by some of the Dark Jedi on the Leviathan."

"I would still pass more of the runts here," the Mandalorian argues, "at the very least, they're cannon fodder. And if Bastila does join their side, even inept Sith are going to perform much more effectively than before."

I whimper at the mention of cannon fodder, an act unnoticed by anyone besides HK, given that his hearing is obviously much better than everyone else's. Well, T3 should have been able to hear that as well, but he's a bit nicer than the assassin droid.

"Must have been quite a fall you did there," Jolee comments, voice a bit quieter than the debate hosted by the rest of the group. Even though it sounds like they're still talking about military issues, we're headed out of this small little colony and back out into the valley.

"What? Just tripped, that's all," I quickly lie, but the realisation that my story isn't the most convincing. I am really starting to wonder how bad I look. Is it really that obvious that I've gotten myself banged up again? My leg does hurt like hell, and I'm limping. Not to mention my throat feels really… raw.

"You're getting better at lying every time, but you're not quite there yet."

"Fine, you show me how to lie, then. But really, you'd be shocked at how badly I can trip over myself. It was more than tripping, but worse things can happen. Did anyone ever tell you that I took cover in front of a door on Taris? It opened, and I feel and messed myself up pretty nicely."

Jolee laughs at that. "Seeing you get hit by that Czerka shield on Kashyyyk, I can certainly believe that. Everyone has had their share of incidents when they're young and foolish. You just seem to have more, given your history. You should have seen some of the things that I got into when I was smuggling."

"Even though I've heard you say it, sort of… it still sounds absurd that you used to be a smuggler," I briefly smile, a bit pleased to be off the topic of death and combat. "If you don't mind me asking, how did the Jedi Council lecture you on that one? Seems pretty un-Jedi like if you ask me."

For the most part, it seems like Jolee might poke at my origins, but he's not actually all against me like everyone else. Well, that's a bit dramatic, but I really do think that HK is truly against me. I really need to find some way to get at him.

"Probably in the same condescending manner they use with everyone else. They would expect nothing else than the highest level of perfection and adherence to the Jedi Code."

"Trust me," I reassure the man, while stepping outside the metal confines of Dreshdae, and onto the rock pathway straight towards the Academy doors. In the distance, mountains stand watch over the whole area, blocking the view of the red sky and the setting sun of the same colour. "I've been familiar with uh, our mutual female Jedi friend for a while. And meeting here, as well as the Council, I've got no doubt."

"See, they won't ever change, and that's their problem. They're fighting former Jedi and a war like the Masters haven't seen for a long time. That's why they stayed out of the Mandalorian War, you see. They refuse to change, and one day that will drive them to their end."

"Awfully grim," I squint, the sun coming into view, right between two of the mountains. "But did you give that impassioned speech to them however many years ago?"

Jolee snorts at the idea. "Of course not, they wouldn't even give me the chance. You have to have had some idea why I ended up on Kashyyyk, instead of staying with the Jedi and becoming one of the famed Knights? Especially after that first war?"

"I guess they're at least good at not listening, right?" I raise my eyebrows for emphasis. "I hope Vrook wasn't on the Council back then, I can't stand him."

We're only a few feet from the massive front door, guarded by a single Sith trooper, aluminium-clad of course. Don't they need more than one? Still, it's just like the video game, including the rather unusual black door. Jolee turns his head to continue our conversation. "He wasn't, but most of the Council thinks a lot like him, based on what Darius there had to say about Vrook. Only a certain kind of Jedi can make it on the Council, and they make all the decisions in that Order."

"And they're determined to stick with what worked in the past or bury their hands under the sand, is that what you're saying? Because they run a sort of dictatorship there?" I ask, starting to understand what he's getting at. Normally I would have tried to talk about something else, but KotOR 2 might happen still, and that's a pretty big deal if I'm really never going home.

Oh, goodness, I'm trying to get knowledge for things that will happen five years from now? I'm really staying here for good, then. Unless I can get my hands on Selena… No, no, I'm not worrying about that now, otherwise I'll just be even more cross than I already am.

"A dictatorship? That's a stronger phrase than I would have used, and more dramatic as well. But you're young enough that everything has to be presented that way, right? Now, you're looking for a tyrant, check the Sith. Better not say that too loudly, though. That Twi'lek sure looked like she wouldn't bat an eye at having us all killed."

"So, the good guys aren't above criticism, is that the point of all this?"

"Do you need a point? You really should just listen and not try to delve into things so much. Always eager to get an answer," Jolee taunts, going back to his old man routine. "You're starting to sound like the Jedi, there."

"Alright, alright," Darius interjects, apparently done with his own conversation. "Enough talking about the war, I've got to make an entrance here."

I bite my lip, slightly frowning in protest. "I wasn't talking about war or cannon-fodder. Administrative matters, actually."

"Which is still an element of waging war on any sizeable scale," Darius corrects, the Jedi whipping out his black Sith medallion once again, displaying for the sole guard to see and verify.

The Sith takes a few moments to finish looking at the item, and consults briefly with a small datapad. "I don't recognise you; I'm going to need your name. Unless you want me to summon the headmaster out here to deal with you."

"Darius Rayner," our leader supplies the name given to him by the Jedi, "Yuthura said she was going to grant me access. I'm an applicant to the Academy here."

The trooper nods, putting aside the datapad. "And what of your followers? A mercenary, Wookiee and combat droid aren't exactly welcome in the Academy."

"They're slaves," Darius says dismissively, putting on a mask of contempt as he glances at the party. "Yuthura and I already discussed it, they'll be no problem. If they do, I will take full responsibility and execute them myself."

Mental note, I really should behave myself.

"They're going to have to sleep outside the building, we don't have enough rooms for servants and minions." When Darius nods in understanding, the Sith continues with his little speech. "Very well," the Sith lackey says, stepping aside and saluting to Darius as the door opens. "Welcome to the Academy, student."

The former Dark Lord returns the gesture, stepping over the threshold and into the school of the Sith. What a lovely place, dark and made of stone, a darker material than the rocks outside in the mountains. The place is a stark contrast to the colony of Dreshdae, which was brightly lit, angular and had more metal than the two droids in our party. This place feels ancient, almost like a poorly lit Egyptian pyramid. Not perfectly constructed, but the Sith Academy sure has history. There's a tickling feeling on the back of my neck, and a slight itching sensation deep in the recesses of my skull.

"Yuthura said they've probably already started," Darius mutters, stepping up his pace.

After a dimly, barely lit entryway, the room we're thrown into is a circular chamber, dark halls branching off in all directions; north, east and west. The ceiling in this particular is quite high, at least ten meters high. Quite a few Sith guards and students clad in grey uniforms wander through the edges of the halls and rooms. A man stands right in the centre of all this, clad in the very same outfit that all the students are, but just a shade darker. The man is bald, but he seems to have a similar set of tattoos as Yuthura. That means we're looking at Uthar Wynn.

Speaking of which, I forgot to mention in the whole double-cross setup with Uthar and Yuthura. How the hell is that going to go down? Especially since I remember that the outcome of that quest determines whether or not the Academy decides it would be fun to kill us all on sight.

"You again?" Lashowe scowls, hateful eyes locked on Darius. "Master Wynn, I recognise this one from the colony. Unworthy, if you ask me."

The headmaster speaks for the first time in our presence, his low-pitched voice surprisingly dry. The way he speaks leaves no reason to think about questioning him; he's not like Malak, but he is a rather commanding figure. "I'll judge that for myself, thank you. A human, then. Strong in the Force, I believe."

"He's had some training, with the Jedi," Yuthura adds, walking into the building from behind us and striding straight through the party.

"The Jedi?" Uthar smirks, amused perhaps. "They must have been typically foolish to let you slide through their grasp. Your objections are wasted, Lashowe. Now that we are here, are you willing to embrace our ways, and seize your position within the Sith?"

"I am, Master," the blonde answers. "More than ready."

The headmaster nods in approval, and I've got the feeling we walked in late to this party here. I watch in silence as Uthar goes through the other candidates, seemingly pleased with his selection of pupils. I notice that one of them is the same man that nearly killed me back in the colony. Still, the headmaster stops with Darius, a man once far more powerful than anyone else in this room. "And you, the late entry? Yuthura seems to think that you have promise, even if you seem to have a small army at your disposal. Tell me, what do you think of the Sith?"

I raise an eyebrow, but Darius provides a reasonable answer nonetheless. "They're a powerful force to be reckoned with, and are quite capable of wiping out the Jedi, and the Republic."

"A diplomatic answer, but accurate," Uthar sneers. "So, human, you are ready to join us here in the Sith?"

"Of course."

"None of you are true Sith, not yet," Yuthura quickly adds, "You'll have to earn that title, and only one of you will be actually joining us. Master Uthar and I will have to be sufficiently… impressed before you undertake the final test."

Okay, everything is panning out normally. Hopefully I can help provide Darius with some information, that'll speed the selection process up. I notice all the students in the room quietly nodding, even the brash and rude Lashowe is humbled in front of the Sith Master. A few more moments later, the other Sith students go their own directions, presumably towards their dormitories. I guess we missed the grand tour of the place, then.

Rather than follow suit, Darius turns around to face us. "You're all going to have to stay back on the Ebon Hawk overnight. We've only got a few hours before sundown, and from what they say here, we're going to have wait until morning until we head into the Valley of the Dark Lords."

"Sounds like a lovely place," Jolee comments. "Do they include a travel brochure?"

"They've got a lot that would help gain prestige," I quickly add, before anyone comes asking me for questions.

"First thing in the morning," Darius says, "I want the rest of you to head back to the ship, except Carth, T3 and HK. We're going to scour the Academy overnight, and we'll meet back up with you outside the Academy's entrance."

"And are you planning on sleeping at any point?" Mission questions, though Darius doesn't answer, a bit surprising. For the most part, he was always pretty easy to work with. Have we switched to pulling teeth? Things are getting a bit more troubling more and more every day.

Darius takes a moment, hands running down the front of face. "Carth, you're going to need to fill me in, fast. The rest of you should get moving, we've got a lot of ground to cover."

He's acting strangely, that's for sure. I don't know what to make of this. The clock is ticking, the Unknown World is inching closer, and on that world, Darius very well make the choice that could kill of all us, and plunge the galaxy into darkness.