Private Stuck In The Middle With You

[Calyx Sundrift]

L E C T U R E -H A L L
P E L A G O N -S I T H -A C A DE M Y

They moved as one. A mass of sentients, draped in identical tunics so black that they seemed a mass of shadows gliding through the ancient halls.

It was not a march. No orderly column or synchronised cadence behind the overseer. But there was unity in their step that made it evident that this group belonged together. The cohort prowled. That was the only fitting word for it.

Their collective stride had the resemblance of a starving pack. They were a group that had lived together through hardship, fear, and violence.

On the surface, all of the meticulously selected cohorts of the Sith academy did. It took a trained eye to spot the turmoil within - to see who in the sea of black robes flocked together. Who drifted at the edges like wounded animals. Who walked shielded behind stronger peers, and who was already being isolated for slaughter.

Calyx saw all of it. He always did. Every transfer between academies reshuffled the hierarchy anew. Alliances dissolved. Feuds reignited. He knew that at least three of them wouldn’t survive Pelagon.

Every fourth month or so, their cohort cycled through to another academy. Thrantin first. Coruscant second. Thrantin again. A brief reprieve at Byss. Now, Pelagon.

It meant new rivalries. New corridors where acolytes got ‘lost’, and new sleeping quarters where throats were slit in the dark. The overseers expected it. Sometimes encouraged it, even. That was why transfers always came swollen with new recruits, or cohorts were merged when numbers were deemed too low.

Here, Calyx expected perhaps five unfamiliar faces, as remarkably few from his previous semester had died. A disappointment, depending on who one asked.

The true trick - every acolyte worth their saber knew this - was reaching the newcomers before someone else did. Alliances formed fastest before reputations spread. Before enemies could poison opinions. And Calyx, positioned neatly near the front of the moving pack, possessed the initiative.

The overseer halted before a towering stone archway carved with ancient Sith runes. Beyond it waited the lecture hall. He turned, fixing them with a menacing look. ”Your instructor is late, but you are permitted to enter. If any of you so much as consider violence, I will personally tear off your ears. Am I understood? ” The cohort droned an answer. ”Move. Find a desk. And do not dawdle. ” The mass of black robes spilled into the chamber. Calyx never slowed his pace.

The lecture hall opened wide before him. An immense annex of curved transparisteel fused seamlessly against the temple’s ancient stonework. Beyond the transparisteel stretched the crushing darkness of the deep ocean. Blue light filtered through the abyss in slow-moving waves, colliding strangely with the chamber’s artificial amber glow. Together they painted the room in shades of gold and cobalt, all attention drawn naturally toward the central speaking platform.

Calyx ignored it entirely.

His attention sought the newcomers instead. The fresh acolytes already stood awkwardly behind scattered desks, assigned seemingly at random. He noted two standing side by side and dismissed them immediately. New arrivals who clung together rarely survived their first month.

Instead, his gaze settled upon the solitary girl furthest from the entrance. Brown curls spilled past her shoulders in loose waves, framing a physique delicate enough to appear almost fragile beneath the academy robes.

Interesting

Calyx crossed the chamber without hesitation and claimed the unoccupied spot beside hers. “Welcome to our charming little coterie of murderers and Dark Side enthusiasts,” There was humor in his voice. “For both our sakes, I hope you learn quickly.” By choosing her table, he had already dragged her into conflicts she did not yet know existed. Several sets of eyes shifted subtly toward them across the room.

Calyx met most of them calmly.

So the lines are already being drawn, eh?

He leaned casually against the desk, folding his arms as his gaze swept the chamber once more. He scoffed quietly at a few seating choices nearby.

“Honestly, though- would a chair or two have bankrupted the Covenant?” Finally, he glanced toward her properly. “Name’s Calyx.” A faint smile swept over his features. “And apologies in advance.”

Isobel Serraris