Zalia Bronwyn stared in frustrated anger at Overseer Harkun as he questioned her.

"You got the holocron? A fake, no doubt, or stolen from the library. I'll deal with you later."

As she opened her mouth to speak, he turned, pointing at another acolyte.

"Gerr, step forward."

The large young man with a pleasantly inoffensive smile stepped forward with a simple grin.

"Ffon, kill him."

Zalia stepped forwards, as did the other acolytes, confusion and anger written across their faces.

"With pleasure, overseer!" Ffon prowled towards Gerr, who whimpered, then turned to run.

A flash of lightning burst from Ffon's fingers, and Gerr tumbled to the ground.

Another quick step, and Ffon drove his blade through Gerr's exposed neck, flicking the blood onto the boots of the other acolytes.

"Pathetic. Let that be a lesson for you. Ffon destroyed him effortlessly, as he would any of you. Any objections?"

He looked directly at Zalia, and it was all the Sorceress could to to not draw her blade.

"No." She ground out, feeling the bubbling hatred of Eryon building.

The Twi'lek was growling, his position at the door a reminder of his position.

Zalia felt a moment of satisfaction, that despite Eryon's disdain for her, he still maintained a degree of loyalty, and was clearly relying on her to raise him higher.

She had no illusions about his loyalty in the face of trouble or opportunity, but as long as she was his best shot at power, he would probably support her.

Glaring at Harkun, she realized that he was giving her another task, as Ffon stode out the door, followed by the remaining two acolytes.

"-the tomb of Tulak Hord. Lord Zash wants these texts. However, after your death, Ffon will no doubt need to retrieve them himself."

Zalia laughed. "Yes, yes... you send me to do the impossible, I succeed, and you cry in holocalls to your mommy."

Shreave's presence was growing nearer, and with his support, she figure Harkun wouldn't dare strike her.

Harkun's hand came up, but Shreave walking into the room caused him to halt.

"Enough! Out of my sight, Slave. If you do not have the texts, I will turn you over to the Inquisitor. He is always in need of subjects for his lessons."

Zalia spun, striding out, followed by Shreave and Eryon.

Kaesin was waiting outside, glaring at Shreave. "Hurry up, Rhell. Baras wants this done fast."

Zalia hadn't spoken much to the Sith Lady, having been left at the Wilds medical camp for an extra day while Shreave and Eryon returned with her to the temple.

However, she had evidently been willing to train Eryon in some of the more complicated fighting styles one could learn with prosthetic limbs.

Eryon had been much more manageable after their training sessions, Shreave reported, as his confidence in his own abilities grew.

Glancing questioningly at Shreave, she saw the warrior grimace.

"Got it, Kaesin. I'm headed there now." The Pureblood stormed off, with Kaesin in step.

Zalia followed closely, Eryon after her, and saw Shreave turning up a stairwell she hadn't seen him use before.

The path, however, seemed intimately familiar to Shreave, who didn't hesitate winding back through the maze of conflicting corridors.

Zalia noticed Kaesin glance back at them a few times, but she didn't attempt to stop them, which she took as a good sign.

A moment later, Shreave drew to a halt outside a door, and pushing her senses out, Zalia sensed a surprisingly calm presence.

"I'll be out here when you're done." The mechanical Juggernaut leaned back against the wall with a slight crash, and gestured Shreave towards the door.

Zalia saw the Pureblood take a deep breath, feeling more unsettled than she'd even seen him.

He reached out, tapped in the key code, and stepped inside, the doors sliding shut behind him.

Zalia stepped forwards as well, catching the door with her boot, before being pulled back by a tight force grip by Kaesin.

"He must face this trial alone, sorceress."

Zalia turned, seeing the set of Kaesin's mechanized jaw, and realized that she wouldn't be able to help Shreave this time.

Eryon hadn't even tried to go after him, and slid down the wall, casually drawing a metal finger across the floor.

She saw the Twi'lek was engraving his name into the floor, despite the obvious irritant the sound was to Kaesin.

"Kaesin? What's the proper form of address for you?" Zalia asked, drawing the woman's attention away from Eryon for a moment.

"Kaesin is fine. I am no Lord, and you have been mentioned as Shreave's equal. As he and I both serve Darth Baras, we are as well. Therefore, equals, so long as you don't make me regret it."

Zalia nodded slightly, before gesturing towards the door with a slight jerk of her head.

"What's Shreave having to do?"

Kaesin didn't so much as blink, as she said, "He's been tasked with killing Lord Tremel, the man who brought him here, his mentor."

Zalia stared in shock. "If Tremel's a Lord, he'll kill him!"

Kaesin's shoulders twitched in a light shrug. "Perhaps. But my Master doesn't care either way."

Zalia started towards the door, but Kaesin's mechanical arm latched on to her shoulder, and Zalia winced.

"Shreave should win. Tremel's career is over no matter what. My Master does not care for those who would try to manipulate him, but so long as Shreave is alive, Tremel gets some hope for the future."

Zalia stared at her. "He's a Sith Lord! He's not going to die to help some apprentice!"

Kaesin let go, and shrugged. "Perhaps not."

Before she could say anthing else, Zalia saw the door slide open, Shreave stumbling out.

His garments were shredded, burned in a dozen places, but he was carrying a hand.

His eyes met Zalia's, and then they flicked away, almost in shame.

"I killed him."

Kaesin nodded, saying nothing, and motioned Shreave back towards Baras' chambers.

The Pureblood complied, his eyes slightly glazed.

Zalia shot a look at Eryon, who mirrored her shocked appearance.

The two followed, Zalia wishing there was something she could say to lift some of the numb coldness that was radiating from Shreave.

She noticed a small smirk playing at the corners of Eryon's mouth, and turned to catch his eye.

"Perhaps the noble fool will finally become a realist?" Eryon looked pleased at this, though Zalia wasn't in full agreement with the positivity of that prospect.