STAR WARS-ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ & ɴᴏᴠɪᴄᴇ

0017. Infusion

Those curious about the inspiration of this chapter—Halsey's song: Control hit the nail on the head.

[Ｌｏｃａｔｉｏｎ：

Ａｒｋａｎｉｓ ｓｅｃｔｏｒ

ＤＳ－１ Ｏｒｂｉｔａｌ

Ｂａｔｔｌｅ Ｓｔａｔｉｏｎ

Ｅａｓｔｅｒｎ Ｑｕａｄｒａｎｔ
Ｔｒａｉｎｉｎｇ Ｒｏｏｍ ＺＣ]

A  Y  E  N

  THERE WAS A PALPABLE BONE-DEEP COLDNESS. If one could peel back the layers of the soul, Vader would have mastered that dark craft through the cold fire of his gaze alone. A heavy shroud settled over her, setting her apart from every living thing in the room—a deliberate cloak woven from the Dark Side of the Force.

To the oblivion of others, every crevice of her mind lay bare before him. Deep in her instinctual core, she knew he was exploiting that vulnerability as punishment. One thing she'd learned from the Sith: never underestimate how far he'd go. In that moment, she was prey and he the hunter, encroaching with cold, methodical precision.

   The walls of her throat felt stuffed with cotton. Reality snapped back and her surroundings shifted into focus. She found herself already standing while others remained immobile, their tense expressions fixated on the Sith.

  Not a single, visible breath was drawn.

  Zev daringly contested the tension buzzing beneath the surface of every individual. Shifting a fraction closer to her, his Adam's apple bobbed. A nervous tic betrayed the gravity of the situation. Ayen realized with alarming clarity that he knew.

  Zev sensed a profound, unspoken connection between her and Vader. He positioned himself like a personal buffer, offering a modicum of reassurance.

Ayens lips parted to refute, when Commander Stark stepped towards the Sith.

  "My Lord," he addressed curtly, a slight tremor to his steepled hands. The air was thick with apprehension, a nervous twitch in his mustache. "Session just ended. I apologize this was not addressed to you directly. I was informed you were here to survey the training regimen?"

The lights above the exit doors flickered with a low thrum. Vader's hooded shroud turned slowly, enough to address the Commander with a distinct edge. "I was delayed."

The Commanders eye flinched with a surge of paranoia. "O-Of course," he smiled shakily. "I understand, My Lord. Forgive me if I was out of line."

The Sith nodded, albeit slowly. "Resume schedule then. Dismissed, Commander."

  Ayen's teeth sunk into the already tender flesh of her cheek. It was a wonder she hadn't drawn blood from the force of her bite. In the oppressive silence, not a single person dared defy orders handed directly from the him.

The cadets filed out, their movements constrained by the weight of the figure. Hints of reverence were exchanged in glances aside her colleagues. Valara's questioning look spoke volumes, but Mac's arm tightened around hers, his bone-knuckled grip a silent caution. Sterling shot Ceru a wordless command to stand down.

The sub-level factions funneled out swiftly, a collective sense of unease. Commander Stark departed with the remaining officers in direct obedience to Vader's orders, none the wiser. Ayen was left nearly alone, the Siths presence nearly stifling.

  But Zev remained, shaking his head in silent refusal at his twin.

Dammit Zev.

  "Zev, go," Ayen bit out in a clipped tone, her gaze fixed on the Sith. She was meant to stay behind. She knew it. "Dammit, Zev, that's an order." Her chin shifted just a fraction, teeth clenched, "Don't make this worse for me."