"I decline."

"Please, not again, Jacen, I can’t stand it when he comes in here and—"

"I decline, damn you, I decline!" Jacen shouted, his voice hoarse and dry from his screaming and lack of water. Shackled at his wrists and ankles, he scooted back across the stone floor of his prison cell, pushing himself up against the chamber wall. "Now get out."

His leather armor shined, his almost black hair clean and tied into a gleaming tail at the nape of his neck, Zekk clenched his jaw and tried to suppress a noise of pain as it fought to expel itself through his lips. He knelt in front of Jacen, despite the repulsive glare that the remaining Solo twin shot him, and placed one hand on his knee. "Jacen," he pleaded again, "All you have to do is sign the contract and he will let you go—"

"And reveal Anakin’s location to you monsters?" Jacen retorted, sickened by his old friend’s words. He seethed and hissed, "Never."

Zekk flinched and drew his hand back quick as lightening. His emerald eyes narrowed as he said softly, but keenly, "I am the only thing that stands between you and the executioner’s chair, Jacen. Do you realize that?"

"I do," Jacen answered morosely. He gave his head a toss to send some of his oily hair out of his eyes. "I do, and I despise you for it."

"You’re alive right now because of me!" Zekk shouted at him in outrage. He rose to his feet and clenched his gloved fists. "You’re alive out of my mercy and the love I still, for some deranged reason, have for you. And you despise me for it?"

"You keep me alive in debt to my sister," Jacen hissed.

"I didn’t—" Zekk cut himself off to stave off a bout of tears. When he was sure of his voice again, he spoke tremulously, "I never—thought I’d kill her, Jacen. Never, you know that."

"I reject your pathetic attempt at saving me," Jacen told him sardonically. He drew his knees up to his chest and let his chin rest on his shackled wrists. "Now leave me."

"Be it on your head, then," Zekk snapped and whirled, his scarlet cape billowing out behind him as he stalked from Jacen’s cell, "And just remember, I offered you a chance!"

He could not hear if Jacen replied to his words as he stormed down the corridor of the old Jedi Academy. He was too enraged to hear much of anything, nor to acknowledge the sharp salutes his cadets gave him as he went. Not only was he enraged, but a slow, creeping hurt slowly took hold of his heart, and constricted.

Jacen hated him.

God, Goddess, Maker, what ever it was, was it suppose to hurt this much?

He took the turbo-lift to the upper levels of the old academy and headed towards where he could see the vague outline of Brakiss’ control tower through the branches of the looming Massassi trees. Circling the planet like a satellite, the Shadow Academy continued to educate its masses of pure human children, teaching them the basics of the Sith order and how to properly utilize the simple core strength of their Force-influenced powers. Zekk, deep in his heart, held a deep resentment towards Tamith Kai’s teaching methods, but he kept his mouth shut. What the dark, enigmatic Dathomir woman did with her cadets was none of his concern.

However, he kept a small ensemble of cadets under his own tutelage, and he could direct the path in which they were to follow. He only accepted those with true potential, only those that were the most dedicated to the Sith order and the Second Imperium. But he did not want militant nationalists either; he wanted opinionated, well-rounded young men and women who were interested in pursuing the ways of the Sith in honor of the Second Imperium.

At his latest count, he had eight pupils, all from the grottos of Coruscant and each filled with the potential to be something great. His heart stirred with pride at the thought of his students and how intent they were on learning.

"Seems a storm approaches," a voice off to his left remarked fondly. Zekk stumbled a step and flung up his Force shields. The voice chuckled.

"Now, now, Zekk," Brakiss rebuked him and glided out of the shadows to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Don’t take it personally. I was only referring to your dark mood."

"I apologize, Master," Zekk answered formally. "I am supposed to be setting a proper example for my pupils. You should not have been able to catch me off-guard—"

"Cease with these formalities for a moment Zekk," Brakiss scoffed, "and speak with me man-to-man. Have you made any progress with the Solo boy?"

"He refuses to cooperate," Zekk replied stiffly. He followed Brakiss as his master glided across the jungle floor towards his tower. "I’ve tried my best to reason with him, but still he resists. I’m loathe to take any further action, sir, and it would be most pleasing to me if you would not either—"

"Come now, Zekk," Brakiss said warmly and smiled. "Do you think me that much of a fool? I can see through this little farce you’re putting up." His voice dropped to a low whisper. "You feel for him, do you not? You feel for him so greatly that his each and every coarse word sends a tremor of pain throughout you. Your despair drips from you like rain. I’m surprised your other pupils have not caught onto it yet."

"I shield it well, sir," Zekk replied without emotion.

"Ah, yes, but you can shield nothing from me, dear," Brakiss answered and draped an arm around Zekk’s shoulders. They continued to walk together, Brakiss regarding the humid environment around them pensively while Zekk’s brows drew together in a dark frown.

"No, I suppose I’ve never been able to hide anything from you, Brakiss," he conceded reluctantly. Then, he smiled very slightly and admitted, "Though that’s not to say I haven’t tried."

"That you most certainly have done," Brakiss agreed and chuckled. Lightly, he squeezed Zekk’s shoulder. "Join me for dinner this evening."

"Yes, Master."