Post by Werner Von Boom on Apr 10, 2019 0:21:50 GMT
Yuthura Ban had daily rounds to make. It was part of the responsibility of any headmaster, including her predecessor. And the one before. It was also customary for there to be differences in how they handled various chores of office. Uthar had always been very consistent in his routines, ensuring that his arrival was eagerly anticipated and things were suitably prepared. He'd delegated a great deal, including the managing of one particularly important student. Yuthura, on the other hand, preferred to keep things a little more fluid. Different times, different sequences. There was a place for scheduled events and ceremony, but on a daily basis you were better off making yourself unexpected.
The purple Twi'lek woman had an even and quiet stride. She was perhaps slightly on the tall side of average and didn't weigh much, and she had a graceful way of movement that simply didn't make much sound. It had amazed more than a few people that she could enter a room and they wouldn't notice. Yuthura was a firm believer that if she had been a human she might have successfully avoided notice altogether, but it wasn't every day one saw a purple Twi'lek and it tended to merit attention sooner or later. Considering that, she did well. She'd even heard there was a rumor among the newest batch of initiates that she had special soles on her boots to muffle those steps. Her violet eyes took in the training room as she assumed a quiet stance by the wall and observed, undetected for the moment over the sound of lightsabers clashing.
One of her older students was playing the role of instructor. She'd been somewhat surprised to find he was good at it, since a rather large number of her more advanced trainees saw training the beginners more as a tedious exercise in futility, and preferring to view it as a chance to toy with their weaker counterparts. Thrace was considerably more patient than most and contributed to their instruction more, a quality she always appreciated in the future-Sith under her tutelage simply because it was somewhat rare. That kind of helpfulness and patience tended to be fatally cut short in the ranks of the Sith, but the cautious could endure and she had a degree of hope Thrace would live until Knighthood. He'd divvied up a number of students into pairs, and was periodically correcting their footwork, or their grip, or stance as they sparred. It was a few more moments before she caught their eyes, and the Twi'lek headmistress returned their bows with a polite nod. They returned to their practice and she lingered a few more minutes to observe.
There were no real standouts in the cluster of beginners. That was a story becoming more common year by year as the flow of former Jedi had dried up further and further. The new recruits she'd been receiving tended to come without any training, and sometimes to her chagrin without any potential. Respectability had driven into her Academy people with less business to be in it as politics took a place in their hierarchy in a twist worthy of the Jedi. It had been almost simpler when the gates themselves had been flooded with hopefuls eager to join the Sith war machine. While she had no dearth of applicants on Korriban, the task of assessing their potential had grown harder as the number of stand-outs declined.
The whole process of training Sith seemed to have slowed down in the years after the war. She might not have left the Academy in a decade, but even from the timeless and dusty ruins of Korriban she'd felt the galaxy changing. Yuthura adjusted the collar of her dark grey uniform and left the room as silently as she'd entered.
She was halfway to the exit into the valley when something tickled at the back of her neck, it was the kind of feeling she'd learned not to ignore. Her suspicions were further raised as one of the troopers who aided in Academy affairs approached her at a jog and whispered a message to her. It paid to be informed, because knowledge was power. Knowledge helped you fall on your feet, and this knowledge was on a substantially shorter timetable than she liked. Someone's shuttle had just touched down, and that meant someone important was visiting unannounced.
Yuthura Ban turned on her heel and marched briskly back up the sloping incline of their main corridor. Unannounced. Few people came unannounced, as Sith tended to be as vain as bureaucrats and functionaries were. Coming unannounced meant no special meals, no honor guards, no ceremony. The Sith military wouldn't come unannounced for fear of slighting the Order, and that suggested what was coming was a mystery. She didn't care for those.
The Twi'lek was just entering the grand foyer when the doors began to part and the nature of her visitor was made clear by the small entourage of red-armored guards who entered and took up places around the Academy's great entrance. In the dim light and dark stone, they were a contrast as bold as fresh blood. Each of them, Yuthura knew, was hand-selected from the best of the Order. And behind them came their master: The Voice of the Emperor.
Unexpected, and yet the pieces clicked into place.
There was etiquette here to follow now. As the assembled students bowed their heads and the guards stood briskly to attention, Yuthura lowered herself to a knee and dipped her head, waiting for recognition. Her day had just become considerably more complicated.
The purple Twi'lek woman had an even and quiet stride. She was perhaps slightly on the tall side of average and didn't weigh much, and she had a graceful way of movement that simply didn't make much sound. It had amazed more than a few people that she could enter a room and they wouldn't notice. Yuthura was a firm believer that if she had been a human she might have successfully avoided notice altogether, but it wasn't every day one saw a purple Twi'lek and it tended to merit attention sooner or later. Considering that, she did well. She'd even heard there was a rumor among the newest batch of initiates that she had special soles on her boots to muffle those steps. Her violet eyes took in the training room as she assumed a quiet stance by the wall and observed, undetected for the moment over the sound of lightsabers clashing.
One of her older students was playing the role of instructor. She'd been somewhat surprised to find he was good at it, since a rather large number of her more advanced trainees saw training the beginners more as a tedious exercise in futility, and preferring to view it as a chance to toy with their weaker counterparts. Thrace was considerably more patient than most and contributed to their instruction more, a quality she always appreciated in the future-Sith under her tutelage simply because it was somewhat rare. That kind of helpfulness and patience tended to be fatally cut short in the ranks of the Sith, but the cautious could endure and she had a degree of hope Thrace would live until Knighthood. He'd divvied up a number of students into pairs, and was periodically correcting their footwork, or their grip, or stance as they sparred. It was a few more moments before she caught their eyes, and the Twi'lek headmistress returned their bows with a polite nod. They returned to their practice and she lingered a few more minutes to observe.
There were no real standouts in the cluster of beginners. That was a story becoming more common year by year as the flow of former Jedi had dried up further and further. The new recruits she'd been receiving tended to come without any training, and sometimes to her chagrin without any potential. Respectability had driven into her Academy people with less business to be in it as politics took a place in their hierarchy in a twist worthy of the Jedi. It had been almost simpler when the gates themselves had been flooded with hopefuls eager to join the Sith war machine. While she had no dearth of applicants on Korriban, the task of assessing their potential had grown harder as the number of stand-outs declined.
The whole process of training Sith seemed to have slowed down in the years after the war. She might not have left the Academy in a decade, but even from the timeless and dusty ruins of Korriban she'd felt the galaxy changing. Yuthura adjusted the collar of her dark grey uniform and left the room as silently as she'd entered.
She was halfway to the exit into the valley when something tickled at the back of her neck, it was the kind of feeling she'd learned not to ignore. Her suspicions were further raised as one of the troopers who aided in Academy affairs approached her at a jog and whispered a message to her. It paid to be informed, because knowledge was power. Knowledge helped you fall on your feet, and this knowledge was on a substantially shorter timetable than she liked. Someone's shuttle had just touched down, and that meant someone important was visiting unannounced.
Yuthura Ban turned on her heel and marched briskly back up the sloping incline of their main corridor. Unannounced. Few people came unannounced, as Sith tended to be as vain as bureaucrats and functionaries were. Coming unannounced meant no special meals, no honor guards, no ceremony. The Sith military wouldn't come unannounced for fear of slighting the Order, and that suggested what was coming was a mystery. She didn't care for those.
The Twi'lek was just entering the grand foyer when the doors began to part and the nature of her visitor was made clear by the small entourage of red-armored guards who entered and took up places around the Academy's great entrance. In the dim light and dark stone, they were a contrast as bold as fresh blood. Each of them, Yuthura knew, was hand-selected from the best of the Order. And behind them came their master: The Voice of the Emperor.
Unexpected, and yet the pieces clicked into place.
There was etiquette here to follow now. As the assembled students bowed their heads and the guards stood briskly to attention, Yuthura lowered herself to a knee and dipped her head, waiting for recognition. Her day had just become considerably more complicated.
