Dinner that evening was a glamorous event. All of the Dark Jedi gathered together in the dining hall, preened like little princes and princesses in their somber black cloaks. They ate together in silence, their eyes sparkling with a newly kindled lust for killing and blood that certainly hadn’t been there before they arrived at the academy.

Zekk sat at the elongated main table at the front of the dining hall, listening without comment to the casual banter exchanged around him as though he did not exist. Brakiss was charming as always, meticulously dressed and radiating good humor. His every gesticulation was broad and nearly encompassing the entire room. However, this evening, there was a certain animosity in the way he spoke to the prime minister of Denton, a small planet discovered (and colonized) on the outermost regions of the Outer Rim.

The prime minister was a young Twi’lek man whose name Zekk did not know. By his body language, however, Zekk could tell that he was not at all fond of Brakiss, of the Shadow Academy, or of the Second Imperium for that matter. His smiles (revealing sharp, serrated fangs) were forced and often times caustic, his rose-colored eyes keen as knives. He noted Brakiss’ every comment and almost seemed to assimilate those words in his head, as if saving them for future reference. Every malicious glare Brakiss sent his way, he returned with equal enmity.

There was no question in Zekk’s mind that this prospective ally wanted no part of the Second Imperium. Zekk had to quell his own urge to agree more and more often.

He was startled from his grim, pensive reverie, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest, as he heard the slosh of rich wine into his goblet. His eyes sharpened and he looked to his left. Brakiss glanced at him with a slight smile while pouring the wine. His icy blue eyes spoke volumes.

"Zekk," he said a little too cordially while gesturing with one hand to the prime minister of Denton, "this is Prime Minister Kehrik Tan, of Denton. Prime Minister, this is my Darkest Knight." Brakiss smiled and laid a hand on Zekk’s shoulder, almost a possessive movement.

The prime minister’s physical posture did not change, but his eyes slid over Zekk with the precision of a sniper. Very slightly, he inclined his head in greeting and spoke in a voice so low Zekk was not sure he heard it. "Pleasure to meet you."

Zekk tried his best to be amiable and smiled in response, but his heart was not in the action. The Twi’lek noted this as well and gave a small, impatient sigh; his eyes traveled across the other members of the table.

As soon as the casual conversation sprung up around them again, Brakiss turned to Zekk, still smiling and bright, and took his arm. Leaning in, he murmured darkly, "The prime minister is neither with the Second Imperium nor against it, but his blessing does not go with us. He is a threat and a liability. My advisors and I agree that he should be… disposed of… as soon as possible." Here, he paused and met Zekk’s shocked, horrified green eyes. "He is easily swayed to the cause of the Republic," he tried to justify quietly. "Denton is a very strong, independent colony, despite its relatively small size, but its prime minister is too sympathetic to our enemies. As I said before, he is a liability—"

"Any liability can be made into something beneficial, Master," Zekk interrupted bitterly at Brakiss’ words. He picked up his goblet of wine and sipped from it before sitting it back down upon the table, then shook his head slowly, disapprovingly. "If he is so sympathetic a man, then perhaps his sympathy could be channeled towards the Second Imperium and what we are trying to achieve. There is no need for him to be terminated just yet, Master. Let us try a bit of tactful diplomacy first. Isn’t that what you have always taught me?"

"Perhaps," Brakiss murmured, irritated at having been interrupted. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably with a scowl darkening his chiseled features, picking at his food like a brooding child. Zekk did not take the bait; he was growing weary with Brakiss’ frequent mood swings, despite his respect and love for the Sith lord.

His mind drifted, as did his eyes, which settled on one great, arching window that showed to all inside the Shadow Academy the jungle moon of Yavin IV. Jacen’s health had been deteriorating at an alarmingly fast rate over the past few weeks; his condition was severe enough to cause even the gruff guard who stood outside his door to peek in on him every few hours to make sure he was still alive. He had stopped talking to himself like a madman, and now his reticence made Zekk doubt his sanity even more than his former schizophrenic behavior. Zekk wished he could persuade Jacen to yield, but the Jedi was adamant in his resistance.

Sometimes he wondered if he should be sharing in Jacen’s pain as well.

-Not quite so loyal after all, I see.-

A guileful voice whispered to him inside his head, and in his shock Zekk temporarily let his carefully constructed mental shields drop. Instantly, he felt an odd sort of violation as swift mental fingers slid into his mind. In outrage, he flung his shields back up and gave a forceful Force shove at his invader.

Across the table from him, Kehrik’s distant rose eyes snapped back into focus, sparkling angrily. Zekk knew immediately that it had been the prime minister combing through his mind, and his rage quadrupled. He had just bargained for this man’s life, and all Kehrik could do to repay him was invade his most personal space! Anger caused Zekk’s emerald eyes to narrow into dangerous snake-like slits.

Kehrik regarded him as a predator views a potential rival. The head-tails draped elegantly around his shoulders twitched and curled, his claw-like fingers tapped against his champagne goblet, and his mouth was curved up into a spiteful, closed mouth smile. Zekk felt the tendrils of the Twi’lek’s mental fingers sliding across his mental shields, searching for a weak, unguarded point to pound against. Words Zekk intentionally ignored accompanied the threads of thought, and when they began drowning out his thoughts, he reluctantly focused on them.

-You amuse me, Zekk. Here you sit beside the galaxy’s most conniving, vicious, unmerciful dictator, and your adoration of him is as pure and untainted as a child’s love for a father he never had.-

What angered Zekk most was that he was completely incapable of responding to the taunts that Kehrik sneered inside his mind. He tightened his fist around his goblet and glared, forcing all the animosity he could into his eyes.

-Ah, now you look more like a Sith!- Kehrik’s smile lost its spite and appeared genuine, though his eyes remained those of a predator. The tendrils of thought gliding outside of Zekk’s shields changed; Kehrik almost seemed sorry for angering him. -Come now, boy. You’re no Sith knight, and you’re certainly too virtuous a person to abide by the presence of a murderer such as Brakiss.-

Brakiss is not a murderer! Zekk screamed behind the shields that surrounded his mind. He clenched his jaws and jerked his gaze away from Kehrik’s, instead directing his steaming glare out the window of the Shadow Academy at Yavin IV again. He’s a freedom fighter for the Second Imperium, he’d stop all the killing if the Republic would simply capitulate—

-He’s told you that, has he?- Kehrik’s thoughts interrupted Zekk’s dubiously. Denton’s prime minister frowned deeply and cast a loathing stare in Brakiss’ direction. The Sith lord was engaged in conversation with a subordinate sitting at his other side.

Zekk clenched his eyes shut and stilled his mind. He tried to think of nothing at all, imagining the passive blankness that Master Skywalker had spoken of while he was still alive. Zekk found the emptiness waiting for him patiently, like a good and loyal dog.

-There’s a pretty picture if ever I saw one,- Kehrik commented. A rich, amused quality laced his thoughts. -Who’s the girl?-

-Love of yours?-

She’s dead. Zekk gave up trying to hide his thoughts; it was futile. Kehrik could read him like an open book.

-So I see,- the Twi’lek said sagely. Cautiously, he pushed against a weak spot in Zekk’s shields, and Zekk rushed to strengthen it, snatching the threads of his thoughts away from Kehrik’s searching mental fingers. It felt rather like holding onto very fine sand that kept trying to slip through his fingers. Desperately, he gathered his thoughts and his wits, hiding his secrets while trying not to focus on them.

"Zekk? Come, lad, we must see our guests to their rooms."

Brakiss’ wine-enriched voice broke the fragile bond between the two men. Startled, Zekk shot to his feet a little too quickly, overturning his chair and stumbling. Kehrik remained motionless, but his eyes never left Zekk’s.

Brakiss’ voice was irritated, but laced with concern. He reached out with one hand to steady Zekk’s shoulder. "Zekk, are you all right? What’s wrong with you?"

"Just a little too much to drink, that’s all," Zekk replied and intentionally slurred his words together. A quick glance at his wine goblet and Zekk knew Brakiss would see through his lie; the drink was practically untouched.

If Brakiss doubted Zekk’s words, he did not show it. Together, they dismissed the Dark Jedi from the cafeteria, then escorted the visitors to their suites. As Kehrik disappeared into his room, he cast a lingering, apprehensive glance over his shoulder at Zekk before the door closed, separating them.

Zekk, staring at the door, missed the spine-chilling curl of Brakiss’ top lip.