The Trial

[Birathen Aximund]

Many on Meridies had called the youngest of the Aximund sons weak. He did not possess the iron will famous of his grandfather and elder brothers. Many claimed it was due to his muddied blood; the boy had been fathered by an outlander that had found himself too busy with some far off war to raise his son. Thus, the boy's rearing had fallen to his mother and grandfather, but the blood of the outlander still remained. Taking of a life, even in righteous action, was not something the child had ever condoned. It was part of why the High Lord of Aximund had seen to it that the boy would never return to Meridies, for fear that such a soft child would never ascend to any position of power within the aristocracy.

Birathen knew that, of course. It was why he had been sent to Korriban and not one of the chosen worlds. His family wanted him gone at the least, dead at the most. Yet, even still, he could not accept that. They were his blood; they were his people. His being on Korriban must have been the work of a rival house, but then that would have be impossible wouldn't it? House Aximund were the only people of Meridies that dealt with the particular group of traders that had given the boy passage.

Which meant that Lord Aximund had orchestrated this from the beginning.

Such thoughts passed through Birathen's mind as he strode up to the strangers, unafraid. He decided that he would do whatever he could to preserve these people - to prove to himself, if no one else, that his way was not incorrect. That the foundations upon which he had built his young life were not rotten and warped.

"It's alright," his voice was compassionate, yet authoritative, "I've not come to harm you. My name is Birathen, and I'm an offworlder." His eyes darted to the lightsaber blades. His sword, laced with cortosis metals as most blades of Meridies were, could repel such weapons for a time. Eventually, however, it would break. "I'm not a Sith. Just...well, sort of like you I suppose." The boy stepped forward cautiously so that he could be seen wholly in the fire's light. Gently, he pressed his longsword back into its sheathe - these people were dangerous, that much he could see in their eyes, but promising safety from behind a blade would accomplish little.

"Why are you hiding my friends? What did the Sith do to you that made hiding in a dusty old cave like this seem necessary?"

[member="Alara Slayn"]

 

[Alara Slayn]

Alara simply watched from behind, hidden away in the shadows as she watched it all. If anything meant less work for her she truly didn't mind, but there were additional complications that arose if the students here were allowed to walk - she could lie, but then she'd be covering up for them and going out of her way to no benefit. If by some miraculous turn of events they did make it back to the academy however, yes they would be killed, but that would also reflect poorly on Alara, who'd been sent to dispose of them to make an example.

For now, she simply thought to herself as she kept observing silently.

Up ahead her, the five students seemed ready to pounce, not willing to bargain with someone they assumed was sent from the academy - any envoy from there would mean certain death. The first to speak up earlier, a Twi'lek male, cautiously and aggressively replied, "Liar! Which of the masters sent you?" "Your smooth talking tongue isn't going to fool us, bantha poodoo", a human from behind then beckoned - scorch marks on his face suggestive that he'd undergone something terrible at some point. The Ithorian at the back then seemed to say something, to which the Twi'lek responded, "He's probably been sent here to die too. In the Valley of the Dark Lords with nothing but cold steel?"

Another human then came forward, keeping his own red lightsaber raised and pointed at [member="Birathen Aximund"]. "A few days ago we were all tasked with entering the tomb of Ajunta Pall. Barely anyone comes out of there. It's a suici-"

The human was cut short by another human student, the fourth of them, by a downward strike to the back from his vibro-blade. A small fountain of blood gushed forth and soiled the student, who yelled "Shut up! We don't have to explain ourselves to anyone! We're not going back!" The three other remaining students seemed shocked, and were left paralyzed by one of their own turning on them - seemingly buckling under the pressure.

Alara shook her head as she listened. Having gone into the tomb herself and having been disappointed at not finding a lightsaber in there, she had nothing but contempt for these pathetic worms.