I lost track of how many days I sat and stared at the terminal, pouring over everything Qiv had left behind.
In the five months since arriving, the Nautolan had constructed four dozen small probe droids, scattering them throughout the facility. With eyes in nearly every corner of the academy, there was a massive amount of data to parse through.
There were gaps, though. Qiv had avoided the most heavily guarded areas, such as the restricted archives and the upper levels of the academy, sections that would have active security measures against such observation.
I still had countless hours of video surveillance of the training halls and the lower archives, so I could see who came and went and what they were doing.
I could probably have sat there for months without making a dent in it all. Instead, I borrowed a text from the archives on modern programming languages, as I sincerely doubted that it would use Python.
Using that, I wrote a program to separate the data into more manageable chunks, namely information that I could use now, information that might be useful later, and junk data. The former was what I was going over right now.
On a separate screen, I had pulled up another set of documents. The dossiers Qiv had written up on the other members of the "class" were sparse on technical details, as he had little understanding of things like lightsaber forms or Force powers. On the other hand, they were unnervingly detailed when it came to personal things.
Hell, mine had a list of my unconscious tics, like picking at my right pinky nail with my thumb when I sat still too long, and how long my average showers were.
While these little factoids might end up being useful, I was very glad that Qiv was no longer on the same planet as me because holy hell that was creepy.
It hadn't been too hard to arrange. I had just needed access to the transport before I took care of the rest. The best part was, I didn't even have to lie about it.
I listed the package as research material to be sent to the Sphere of Biotic Science, which wouldn't be too out of place since Renning used to send back reports and some samples. For insurance, I had placed a few wards on the box with Sith Magic that would trigger with different conditions.
Obviously, I told Qiv that they were extra security, I just neglected to inform him of the specifics or who it was security for.
The first condition would trigger if the latch on the inside of the crate was used. One minute after the contents of the crate were removed, the crate would destroy itself via disintegration and leave only a pile of ash behind to be swept up by space roombas.
The other condition was a "just in case." If someone tried to open the crate from the outside before Qiv triggered the mechanism or if they moved it onto a new ship, it would completely incinerate the box and its contents. Qiv would never hold out under proper Sith interrogation, which would expose my newly acquired spy network.
Those runes were very obviously painted on the outside. I also included a warning in the shipping manifest in regards to "handling it improperly."
If someone opened it regardless, they were literally too dumb to live. If the crate didn't arrive at the destination or the contents destroyed themselves, it would likely get blamed on the last person to handle it.
Unfortunately, I didn't have a way to know which outcome would occur until I tried to contact Qiv on Nar Shaddaa later on. I also didn't have any insurance that he'd be able to get off Vaiken Station, but he'd have a better chance there than being stuck in a box.
Just in case, I didn't use my name on the manifest. Instead, I wrote down the sender as Malora, Renning's apprentice in canon. If she was currently in the academy, boy was she screwed.
Eh, she was kind of a pompous jerk anyways.
It was a risk, but it was one with a chance of paying off big. I needed contacts outside of the Empire, particularly ones that would be more inclined to work with me and have very little reason to betray me to other Sith.
Even if they were creepy as hell. That was the ideal condition, but I'd easily take having a loose end tied off instead.
But that wasn't what had me worried at the moment. I had taken a glimpse at the videos of the other acolytes, but not for long. No, what had me down here pouring over the data for days on end in Qiv's dark little lair was what the Nautolan had said in a note he'd left on the terminal.
'Iren lied.'
And of course, the little shit hadn't elaborated. Now that he was gone, I couldn't ask him either.
For the past few months, I sat here and watched everything that Qiv had on the Overseer, trying to piece together just what exactly the Sith had supposedly lied about. It wasn't like lying was some new tactic to the Sith. Was this some last middle finger from Qiv? It wasn't like he'd be above that.
But there was too much going on in the background to just dismiss it out of hand. The looters in the tomb of Ajunta Pall? The circumstances regarding Castor's defection? Or did he mean my place in this whole conspiracy hunt?
I'd looked at the second trials that each of us were given, with the exception of Qiv, who never had his.
Gaarurra had been sent to Hsskhor to stir up trouble between the Trandoshans and the Wookiees by slaughtering a village. Both were fringe states, with neither having much political or military power on the galactic stage. But Kashyyyk was a member of the Republic and currently lacking the Trandoshan's technological advantage.
Their likely course of action was to get Republic forces involved, which would mean diverting them away from somewhere else. That, in turn, would force the Trandoshan's to call on an ally as well. That could be either the Empire or the Hutt Cartels.
Garsh had assassinated a prominent corporate executive on Commenor, which froze the company stocks as power grabs started up. Clueless as I was about economics, even I knew that was going to cause ripples.
So far, corporations like Czerka had officially remained neutral in the wider conflict but supplied arms and supplies to both sides. It might have been a chance to get an Imperial sympathizer or three onto the board of directors to start slowly cutting off supplies from the Republic.
The twins had been split up, though both were sent on infiltration missions.
Terrak had been sent to an enclave of the Followers of Palawa on Sullust, both to steal their teachings and to slip Dark Side teachings where neophytes of the Followers could find them. Additionally, he was encouraged to enflame their caution of the Jedi into full-blown suspicion or paranoia.
From the report he gave when he returned, he was surprisingly successful. If I had to fight him, I'd have to watch out for Teräs Käsi or any other secrets he managed to pry from them.
Ianna was sent to Dathomir to do the same as her brother. The inhabitants of the world weren't the infamous Witches of Dathomir yet and wouldn't be for millennia, but rather primitive tribals. While their origins were unknown, they were still a population rife with Force Sensitives, which the Sith could not ignore.
Kalista had been sent to Ord Mantell. Like Gaarurra, her role was to stir up trouble by inflaming the Separatists into full-on revolt. While wide-spread violence didn't break out, she had set the spark that would turn into an inferno down the line.
And now, Olia was being sent to Tatooine to provoke several Republic-aligned warlords into attacking Black Sun interests.
If you didn't look too deeply, each one was random. But look closely…
Three actions to cause chaos and bleed the Republic. Two actions to recruit for the Sith cause. And one to clean house.
Were we actually acolytes? Or was Iren just using us as his personal strike team? Then again, nothing said that we weren't both.
I actually respected the man a bit more since there might be a coherent plan at work. Given what I knew of the man, I didn't doubt it for a second.
The person that said "those who can't do, teach" was an idiot. The Overseers didn't have a lot of hard power, but they had a hell of a lot of soft power. They had first dibs on incoming acolytes at the academy. They decided which careers were elevated and which were trampled underfoot.
The Overseers may not be the ones making the rules in the Empire, but they were the ones that made the ones that did. In short, they made the ones who became Sith. It was their influence, not the Emperor's, that lingered.
Iren was quietly terrifying for just that reason. He wasn't a spiteful little bootlicker like Harkun. He was a kingmaker, like Tremmel. And he was manipulating each of us, using different tones with each of us when speaking in private.
But being Sith, I wasn't entire sure which head he was trying to put the crown on, if he was at all.
He looked down his nose at the Twins and Kalista. He was grudgingly respectful of Gaarurra. He was disdainful towards Garsh. He was uncharacteristically curt with Olia.
Me? I was a hound. A pet that knew a few tricks.
But when we were all together, he was distant. Impartial. Fair.
The greatest Sith were the ones that could control their passions, bend them to their will. The greater the hardship, the greater the restraint that was needed. Show what you needed to show and only that.
And now, I needed to figure out precisely what he was lying about. I needed to know which face was real and what words were truth.
My datapad chimed.
"Damn it," I muttered, tearing my eyes away from the screen to check the device.
On the screen was a message from Ragate.
'The time has come.'
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