STAR WARS-ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ & ɴᴏᴠɪᴄᴇ

0017. Infusion

Oh my stars, here it finally is. I sincerely hope it lives up to expectations. 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 it were possible to peel back the layers of one's soul, Vader would have mastered the dark craft solely through the cold, unseen fire of his gaze. He alone composed a heavy shroud that settled upon her, setting her apart from every living entity in the room—an orchestrated effort crafted from the dark side of the Force.

Every crevice of her mind, to the complete oblivion of the others, was laid bare before him. Deep within her instinctual being, she knew he was exploiting that vulnerability as some form of punishment. If there was one thing she'd learned from the Sith by now, it was never to underestimate the lengths in which he'd go. In that moment she was the prey and he the hunter, encroaching upon her with a methodical prowess.

   The walls of her throat felt stuffed with cotton. In the blink of an eye, reality snapped back, and her surroundings shifted into focus. She found herself already standing while others remained immobile, their drawn, 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 betraying the gravity of the situation. Yet, with a solid step forward, positioning himself as a body shield, Ayen realized with alarming clarity that he somehow knew.

  Zev knew there was something significant between her and Vader. He positioned himself as a personal buffer, offering a modicum of reassurance that had emboldened him to act.

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

  "My Lord," he addressed curtly, a slight tremor to his steepled hands. The air seemed to thicken with apprehension and he cleared his throat, 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, seeming ready to combust. His hooded shroud turned slowly, just 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 behind her bite. In the oppressive silence, not a single person dared to defy the orders handed directly from the Supreme Commander himself.

The cadets filed out, their movements constrained by the weight of the looming figure bathed in shadow. Hints of reverence were exchanged in glances. Valara's questioning look spoke volumes, but Mac's arm tightened around hers, his bone-knuckled grip conveying silent caution with a firm shake of his head. Sterling gave Ceru a firm shake, a wordless command to stand down.