Tavrie
Contents
Official imperial records
No records
Army of Darkness counter intelligence records
No records
Tavrie's personal files ((Not accessible by imperial intelligence, the Army of Darkness or anyone else))
I had just arrived at the Sith temple on Korriban when she called me. "Acolyte, come with me!" she said in a commanding voice. I instinctively stopped in my tracks, years of habit ingrained in my muscles. "Yes, my lord", I immediately hated myself for instinctively obeying. Had I just exchanged one existence of subservience with another? Yes I had, but there was a difference. This time I would break my chains. I would learn. I would become strong.
I followed the sith lord, Lanette, she told me that she was creating a tribe, a special tribe of Sith, and that I was to become her apprentice. I accepted, there was a tingling feeling in the back of my head - the very same feeling I had when I saw the opening that allowed me to escape the slave quarters. Lanette led me to the training grounds, she needed a demonstration of my combat skills.
I started swinging my vibroblade against one of the the training dummies. I could sense that the lord was disappointed so I increased the intensity of my attacks. I tried to summon the lightning that had so easily spewed from my fingertips in the beast attack on the way to the Sith temple. Nothing happened. I started to swing the vibroblade with more fury, frustration building up. I was moving fast, striking the dummy with hard blow after hard blow, but I could not summon the Force. I felt my masters disapproving glare in the back of my neck. Frustratiuon turned to anger and suddenly a flash of blue electricity surrounded the training target. I kept swinging my vibroblade, mostly to keep the momentum going, but I was looking at my hand, thinking, trying to sense what had enabled the lightning strike. My new master told me to stop.
As I turned around I saw that she was talking into a com-link. She switched it off and simply said "I need to go". With that, she turned and stomped away. I felt deflated, defeated, ashamed. I had failed my master on the very first thing I did. I was not worthy. I stared at the vibrosword in my hand and loosened my grip to let it fall into the red sand. I took a step, then another and another.
I found myself back in the tomb that I had walked through as I arrived, the very place where the k’lor’slugs had attacked. The bodies were gone but the floor and walls were still blackened by the intense electrical fire that ravaged here. The fire that I created. But how did I do it? I was lost in deep thought when I heard it, a slithering sound accompanied with the clickety-clack of pincer legs. They were close. Very close. I ducked and rolled instinctively, a fraction of a second before the huge maw could close on my head. I reached for my vibrosword - it was not there. Immeadiately the slug was on top of me, I kicked it, but my feet just slipped harmlessly off the thick skin of the slug. I was down on my back, a huge slug towering over me. I was going to die a very shameful death. I had been thinking, thinking too much, I lost my concentration and this is the way I will end. I don't deserve to be free. The last thought appeared with mind-shattering conviction, still I screamed out at the top of my lungs. My chest vibrated under my roar, my hands were shaking - no, not shaking, shivering, tingling. What is that? The power rose in an instant.
There was sticky blood and other fluids all over me, I was panting, gasping for air. The air was acrid, filled with electric discharge. I was not dead - the slug was.
Night turned into day, there were no additional attacks as I lay there next to the dead slug. I still had no control over the Force, it just seemed to appear when desperately needed and then vanish just as quickly. I walked back to the academy, took a sonic shower and had my clothes cleaned of the gunk, it might have been better to just burn them and buy new ones but I had no credits. I tried to meditate within the energy of the academy, but I still found no answers.
It had become late affternoon, and I was walking aimlessly around the court-yard when, suddenly, Lanette appeared out of nowhere. A young woman wearing practically no clothes stood beside her. Lanette said "Come with me, we have work to do". I followed to her office, my mind was reeling. Why was she back? She didn't even mention my failure in the training yard. I remained silent. Lanette plainly said "I have found it. We need to retrieve a Sith holocron". I was still in shock but listened when she described a holocron still hidden right here, by the tomb of Tulak Hord. My master must have noticed me glancing at the girl, "This is the newest addition to our tribe. Now, let's go." she announced.
After passing through the entrance to the Tulak Hord tomb complex, Lanette indicated a pile of old bones and we walked up to it. She asked if I saw it, but I didn't. I kicked some bones out of the way and noticed that the ground was caked with layer after layer of dried blood. I knelt down and tried to scrape some off. It was crusted and hard, I could barely make a dent in the surface but there was something - like a pattern underneath. I tried to wet my fingers, hoping that I would be able to loosen the dried blood. A metallic taste in my mouth and I noticed something else - a hunger. A hunger from deep inside. Finally I started to make some progress and the pattern revealed itself in presicely cut grooves in the rock. "Can you read them?" my master asked, but I couldn't. "These markings are made in an ancient Sith script. I can read them". She started to intone words of a language I had never heard. Suddenly a crack opened in the caked blood as a panel of stone sunk into the rock and slid to the side. My master put her hand into the opening and triumphantly withdrew a small cube, inscribed with more of the ancient script.
We returned to my master's office and after placing the holocron on the table she simply closed her eyes and accessed the holocron...
Seven months later
A battered, old long range shuttle entered Korriban air-space. Black smoke spewing from the lateral control thruster. The steep approach toward the Sith temple made the hull glow and creak. The hails from air-traffic control remained unanswered and the commander was just about to order a defensive strike to prevent the out-of control shuttle from crashing into the landing pad. The thruster finally exploded and the shuttle veered off course. The commander moved his finger from the launch button and called up search and rescue on the comm.
The Sith acolyte was angry. Furious. All the other acolytes in his group had already been assigned interesting missions, like negotiating deadly traps in ancient Sith tombs. "Go investigate the shuttle crash" he had said. The contempt for the training master was making his skin glow as he piloted the speeder towards the column of smoke indicating the crash site. The wreckage was spread over a large area and the impact had made a deep crater that tapered off into a trench where the main body of the shuttle had slid after touch-down. Small fires, scattered over the area were still burning in the scorched sand. The acolyte left the speeder at the rim of the crater and climbed down. As he walked down the trench, the fumes from the burning fuel increased his rage. The fuselage of the shuttle was surprisingly intact but he sensed no life within. He activated the fusion cutter with a bitter thought: I should have my lightsaber already. The interior of the shuttle reeked of rotting flesh but the cargo hold was empty. The acolyte worked his way towards the cockpit. There, a single corpse lay on the floor. It appeared ancient, mummified. Just dry skin wrapped around bones. There was no sign of the pilot, but the hatch he had cut open was the only viable way in or out of the wreckage. Had the shuttle been flying on automatic? He stepped over the corpse on the floor and moved towards the navi-computer and powered it on. The indicator light flickered but the device came on line. The flight record showed no indication of auto piloting, pre-programmed flight paths or remote controls. But it also did not show any indication of the origin of the last trip.
There was a creaking sound from behind and the acolyte turned, his vibrosword in hand, humming gently. He saw nothing. He sensed nothing. The stench of rotten flesh was saturating his senses. He scanned the dimly lit cockpit. There was nothing there. He was just about to turn back to the navi-computer when a bony hand grabbed his ankle. He froze. The body on the floor had moved, the hand was firmly locked around his leg but moved no more. He kicked it but it did not move, nor did it release its grip. He knelt down and started to pry the fingers off him, they felt like dry leather wrapped tightly around twigs, they snapped and he was free. He ran out of the cockpit and didn't stop before he was back at his speeder. He stopped, the rage now replaced with shame - he who was destined to become the most powerful Sith in the universe, had been frightened by a corpse. It was dead, it couldn't have grabbed him, he must have imagined it. He took a few minutes to centre himself before activating the com-link. "It is a worthless heap of junk. No survivors, no cargo. Nothing of value." He did not wait for a reply, switched the com-link off and mounted the speeder. But now he hesitated. He sighed and made his way back into the cockpit of the crashed shuttle. The body had not moved. He knelt down beside it, looking for any signs of life. He found none but as he examined the body, he realised that it had been a woman and though difficult to be certain, she had been about his own age. Perhaps a little older. He noticed faint rattataki tattoos on her face, but the skin had turned almost the same colour as the ink. Carefully he lifted the body, it weighed almost nothing and felt very fragile. As if it would turn to dust if he dropped it. He carried her back to the speeder and secured her remains with some cargo straps. This time he would not return empty-handed from an assignment.
The acolyte had been summoned to the training masters office and he surveyed the room as he entered. The body had been laid on a gurney and a medical droid was inserting an IV drip in its arm. The master looked up from his desk, noticing the perplexed expression of the acolytes face. "Nothing of value, perhaps..." He said, drawing out the words out for effect. "But you were certainly wrong about no survivors." He smiled with a humorless grin. "I have a new assignment for you." He continued. "For this assignment you will be moved out of the acolyte dormitory to a private quarter." The excitement of the status upgrade was short-lived. " In these quarters you will attend and care for this woman. You will do whatever you can to facilitate her speedy recovery." A baby-sitter? He thought, anger flaring inside him. The master smiled again, this time revealing genuine pleasure from the acolytes pained expression.
After two weeks, the acolytes resentment had faded. All the other acolytes in his group still lived in the dorm, none had been accepted by a master for personal training and they all looked at him with a new sense of mixed anger and envy. The acolyte enjoyed this immensely. Even though he hadn't been accepted for training either, his few belongings and the gurney with the girl had been moved, under some secrecy, to a small room where he had spent most of his time for the past weeks. He would not admit this even to himself, but waking up next to the girl every morning had started to feel good. She was still not conscious, but her skin had returned to a normal colour and even though he tried to resist, he found her to be very beautiful.
Out of character information
No records
