Orik Bendan

((OOC: I already told him to find a medical center and sent him on his way Achzet. And that sounds like a plan Scorp)) (1) The long metal hilt that lay in the jedi's hand had the ability for two blades to emit from it. Yet this man decided to only ignite one to begin the battle. An interesting choice to make, but one that must've been founded on some precedent that Orik couldn't quite comprehend. If the human truly expected him to give up, he wouldn't have even ignited the blade. The answer to his question was already presented, and it was the jedi to do such. The only factor that suppressed a chuckle from Orik while Scorp had said that this battle must be left up to the will of the force was the serious tone and rage at the man. No will of the force would govern him. Orik Bendan was a sith lord. The force was a weapon. Never did a weapon control the user. As such, never would a sith bow to the will of a mere tool that he used with complete control. "You know the time for words has passed. Now it is only you and me." Orik held his crimson beam up to his face, letting the red glow shine on his features. The weapon had never before tasted the flesh of a jedi, and it would soon get the first sample of many. There was no doubt in the Kel Dor's mind that he would win. There could be no doubt. Orik tapped into the power of the dark side which flowed through him like water coursing through rivers. It filled his veins and made his blood boil with intensity. Every muscle tensed as it received the power with open arms, embracing the sudden surge in energy as they bulged in preparation for whatever they would be used for. All of this was channeled into his legs, which now felt as though they could run across the entire planet without any signs of tiring. Orik ducked slightly, bringing his saber down so that it rested on his hip. In a quick moment, the sith lord darted toward the jedi. Any details in his appearence were lost among the giant blur that was his body. The speed was accompanied by a quick stabbing motion that sent the tip of the saber pointing towards the jedi. In a near millisecond, the Kel Dor spun his entire body around and ended up with a foot coming at Scorp head level. Reaching under his leg with his right hand, which held the blade, he batted down the jedi's saber to stop an attempt to slice off his leg. The kick landed perfectly and the man was sent flying into a cantina. People had hid in the public place during the killings that his apprentice had brought upon the citizens, and they now stared in awe at a man who could stop this sith possibly. He held a weapon similar to the sith's and had to be fighting this evil for a reason. This man had to be a jedi; he had to be there to protect the people. Those who hid in the bar weren't just counting on him to repel the sith away from the cantina, for he could come back. They were praying that he would be their salvation. With the jedi on the ground, the imagery wasn't very promising. The sith lord had entered the cantina and stood in the doorway. His shadow was cast down upon Scorp with the sun at his back. The warmth conflicted with the air conditioning in the cantina. On one had Orik was cold, and the other warm. No matter, such minor thing as comfort was none of his concern at the present. The jedi was the only thing one on his mind. The Kel Dor gazed at the man. He was too engulfed in the fighting to smile or smirk at his satisfaction. There was no satisfaction, not until this man was beaten. As long as there was a fighting breath within him, there would be no joy for Orik Bendan. "I have grown powerful in such a short amount of time." It was silent as death, all eyes gazing upon the two combatants. It was almost as if they were in a vacuum with all air sucked out of the room. No place for sound. Then a step broke the silence, followed by another as Orik walked toward the jedi. The sound echoed throughout the establishment and sent chills down the spines of many there. Orik stopped about ten feet away from the jedi, who was standing by this time. A red mark began to appear on his face. It was about the size of the part of the foot that Orik had hit the jedi with. This was the most he had ever hurt that jedi. Never before had he so much as made a scratch. Now his benefits were displayed for all in the building to see. The moment was...pleasing. The silence that had come by Orik's pause was once again was shattered as he spun his lightsaber a few times and readied himself for saber combat. Orik had located a stool in the corner of his eye. The Kel Dor used the dark side to throw the stool at the jedi, hurling it across the room as he sprinted towards Scorp, his saber spinning and preparing. Within the bat of an eye, Scorp, who was off of the ground, was suddenly surprised by the stool, which knocked his legs out from under him for a quick moment. Orik took this time to send his crimson saber crashing down toward his leg in an overhead slash that was being aided by the momentum caused by the lunge and the dark side. As he slashed, he shouted out something in a voice that was so infested with anger that it sounded almost demonic. "YOU WILL SUFFER!"

Orik looked at Marcellus. It was a rather odd site, seeing an apprentice without arms. The sith lord had noted that he showed skill for such little training, and that he had exceeded his expectations. However, anything beneath triumph was ultimatly a failure. Well, perhaps not a failure. Perhaps it was something different. When Orik gazed upon Nero, he saw...chance. opprotunity. A chance to make him stronger than before. "He is someone, that's all you need to know. Find a medical center, off planet if you have to. The shuttle will allow you in." Orik whispered something into his ears. It was inaudible to even the jedi, and Marcellus had to strain to hear it. It was heard though, and that was all that mattered. After his apprentice went on his way, Orik looked to Scorp. "You ask why I believe I'm better than you? Because although yes, you have trained longer than me. Yes, you may have more knowledge of the force than I do. You, however, have enslaved yourself to strangers, just locals that use their authority over you. You are bound by morality and chained by seflessness. If you gave into the hate, you would find yourself in a different position." "I may not have trained as long as you, but I'm a quick learner. Not to mention the dark is stronger than the light." Orik sensed that the man's past had a blemish on it. Some failure was sticking out. Wait...while he was reading up on Marcellus at the academy, he had read about the history of the academy. There were two unsuccessful raids made on the planet by the jedi in an attempt to take it, and some sith by the name of Cineon held the planet. It was a great triumph for darkness and a miserable defeat for the light. Suddenly, the name stuck out...the one who had lead the raids... Scorp Ession... Orik tapped into the dark side and molded his will upon it as if he were manipulating clay. The resistence was nothing compared to the power of the sith lord. There was resistence by Scorp's mind though, wisdom and power shielding it. No...not wisdom...but knowledge that was misinterpreted as wisdom surely. For no one who follows the path of a jedi could be wise. He found a way into his mind somehow, just quick enough to display images of the academy. Pictures of dead jedi flooded quickly into the jedi's brain. "I also lack responsibilty for the death of my fellow sith, unlike the tragedy that befell the jedi. You are responsible Scorp Ession. You." Orik smiled, trying to get a reaction out of him. How could he not get a reaction? It would put the jedi to the test of his mental limits to see how he would react. He turned to Achzet. "You fought well. I trust you have taken enough injuries for today though." A red blade crept out of his saber, finding it's way into the light of Tatooine. The hum filled the air and was an unnoficial warcry. "Come, Scorp Ession. Raise your blade and cease your chatter. If you trust in the light side of the force so much, then let the force decide which one of us is superior this day."

Orik smiled at the fact that he now knew the man's name. To fight a man who's name one didn't know was impersonal usually. The sith lord wanted this to be a different case, he wanted to know the man he would attempt to fight in this case. Scorp Ession... The nameless figure that had haunted him for the majority of his training now had a name for which Orik to call him by. Orik reflected upon some of his words though: "Interesting I felt no malice coming from you. Even more interesting is that you sparred that man's life twice." Obviously Orik had gotten better at hiding his feelings. He quickly reflected upon the time where a sith had read him so easily at the academy, like his feelings were a display to be viewed by all. Now he was able to hide his emotion, his hate. It was one of the first things that Sirvani had taught him, and it was one of the most important. About sparring his life...he wasn't worth Orik's time. Such a kill would be hollow in meaning. Perhaps he would become stronger in time. Then perhaps he would be a prize worthy of the sith lord, but until that time, he was a minor annoyance. "My name is Orik Bendan. I see you're a classic jedi...trying to appeal to the good in everyone. Good is a matter of opinion, who is right or wrong is not for one side to choose. We sith don't believe in hiding our feelings and passions, but rather use them to our advantage. What is the purpose of a life of servitude to people you have never even met?" Orik and Scorp were both watching the battle, their faces staring intently upon their padawans, yet they were talking to eachother. Orik tried to make sure not to stare at the man's face, for fear of losing control and attacking him. Now was not the time, not when he should be watching his apprentice fight. Soon would come that time...so incredibly soon...Orik could almost taste it. When he finally bit into the sweet revenge, he would saver every last bite. Orik was hoping to get the banter that usually preceded a fight between a jedi and a sith done with. Two different sides with two different opinions, trying to convert the other. It was quite meaningless in this case. Scorp seemed dedicated to the jedi, and Orik to the sith. The sith were more powerful, yes, but Scorp was too ignorant to see that. Brain-washing by the jedi had done it's job. "Don't preach on how sparring a man is an action of the lightside. He didn't deserve my time. A jedi would've diffused the situation and then attempted to change the man somehow, or perhaps arrest him. I remember how you attempted to arrest me...but that is beside the point. I felt like doing what I came here to do and killing him wasn't what I came here to do."

Orik sensed something. A familar presence was approaching, one that emmited a light upon the ground on which he stepped. The dark side was warning him of the arrival of this individual and the sith lord was ready. There could be no other explanation for who he was, for the Kel Dor knew it was a jedi. The red glow of the blade moved away from the man at the sound of a voice. The words were that of a familiar sound, someone he had heard before. "Just deactivate the blade and back away slowly." Such idiocy for a jedi. To even ask a sith to back down on something, to ask a sith to yeild to a jedi. Never! How could the possibility even cross his mind. If the jedi was expecting Orik to give up based on their last meeting, the human was sadly mistaken. The red glow crept back into his hilt as he stared at the man and looked back to Achzet and Marcellus as they began their combat. The fight was intense, but it was broken up by meaningless dialogue trying to convert his apprentice to follow the light side. It was rather useless. The heart of Marcellus Nero was too dark...too cold...to full of hatred to cast it to the side at the request of a jedi padawan. The jedi that stood before him was more than just a jedi...but Orik had a different plan in mind than just fighting him right then and there. There would come a time very soon. The man had run off to...wherever a man goes when he knows that his life could be taken with ease. Now it was just the two standing there. "You will find that I am not the mere acolyte that you had encountered on Coruscant. I am not so weak now. I have come here to see my apprentice and view his progress. I wish no quarell with you for the moment, but rest assured. Before I leave this planet, I will show you my power." The Kel Dor turned to watch the fight. Before the jedi had a chance to respond, the dark side told him to activate his saber. While igniting the weapon, Orik found that the blade quickly met a blaster bolt and deflected it back to the heavens. The man was back... Orik leaped over to him, using the force to aid his jump. When he was within range, he used the force to pull him. As he came flying, the Kel Dor used his saber to cut both of his repeating blasters in half. They met the ground of Tatooine just as their owner did as he fell face first. Orik looked at him. "You have spirit and heart. I will give you that. However, you are not even worth my time." With a simple push in the force, the man was sent back to the hiding place from which he came from. The exchange was quick and painless, the only loss being that of two repeating pistols. Orik turned back to the fight and felt his apprentice in the force. Achzet was fighting well, but so was Notorious. The streets were the stage on which these two battled and their masters were the audience. Still looking to the fight, but talking to the jedi, Orik began to speak. "After Coruscant I wondered one thing. What is the name of the jedi that had defeated me so easily? Now I would like an answer to that question." His voice was completly void of anger, although it took every ounce of strength within his body to do so. Anger wouldn't get him to answer the question, but it would get him to shut up permanently as soon as Orik deemed it necessary to fight the jedi. Orik viewed the fight and waited for a response.

Orik took the sword that he had discovered in Ajunta Pall's tomb and also his saber. With those two possessions, he walked down the ramp of the Shrieking Talon. The ramp closed with a hiss and the Kel Dor was greeted by the warm air and burning sun of the planet. His face was lit up with the light, but the sith lord didn't mind. Orik walked in the sand, his feet sinking into the grains with each step he took. Looking around, the aroma of death swirled around him. The Kel Dor took a great whiff of it, holding it in for as long as he could, savoring it with a sick pleasure. It was so beauitiful and sweet, but it was missing something. It was missing...the sweet smell of a rotting jedi corpse. The sith lord used the force to guide him through the city, even though he lacked any previous knowledge of the layout. I sense something...someone... Orik started to walk to where the force was telling him that there was someone that wasn't supposed to be there. While walking, he noticed a man and his family hiding inside their home. Their fear was pouring out of the walls of their house, and the chance to take life was too sweet for the Kel Dor to ignore. Using his saber, he melted away a circle in the door. A quick force push sent it flying into the wall of the house, colliding with furniture and various other objects and destroying them. Oooh...how I love destruction. The family huddled in fear, except for the man who held a blaster. His hand was trembling, the pistol shaking. His face was one of pure terror. Looking at the man, Orik gave him a glare of hate. Indeed it was an ignorant hate, one that was blind to action and prejudice to all. However, it was hate, and that was all that Orik would require. "Please. Take what you want. Just don't hurt my family." Orik almost laughed at the attempt to be a role model for his children. This man was a mere weakling, no backbone. In fact, the Kel Dor was surprised the man could live with himself...such dread at the thought of combat. It was then that it was decided: This man did not deserve to live, and neither did his family for supporting such a coward. "I pray that you have lived a good life. Your weakness should not be tolerated...look at the example you are setting for your children. They would grow up to be just as pathetic as you. You are not worthy of life. Goodbye." With that, a blaster bolt was sent toward Orik, who simply laughed at the man. With a quick motion, the man's head hit the floor with a thud. The screams of his children and his wife relaxed him as he loosened up his posture. However, Orik felt bad for the family. Perhaps he could lighten the mood to make it up for them. So, being the kind caring sith that Orik Bendan was, he took their the man's head and punted it out into the city with a giant laugh. "Isn't that just great kids? What? You don't like that? Well...I tried very hard to please you with my little joke, and I would've appreciated even a pity laugh if you didn't think it was that funny. Oh well. Walking out of the building, the sith lord couldn't help but noticed the silence that now occupied the house in the family's stead. The next people to enter the house would surely discover the dead, lifeless faces of two loving children, a wonderful wife, and a kind caring father and husband. No wait, they wouldn't discover the lifeless face of the man...Orik had kicked it somewhere. Oh well, such is life. Now Orik sensed the man (Namiad Ydnah) again, the one that wasn't supposed to be there. Using the force to silence his every step, Orik approached the many slowly. After he was right behind him, he put his blade to the man's neck. "Leave this place or suffer a fate worse than death. If you believe that the two that stand before you are powerful, than you cannot begin to imagine what I possess." No one would survive to watch the battle except for those worthy of such a treat. The pleasure of watching his apprentice would Orik's alone, besides the jedi that Marcellus would soon engage. And maybe even...wait...could it be... A vision of the past flooded his mind. He was in Coruscant again, at the Jedi Academy. Blood was all around him and he had just killed two younglings. Then there was a jedi...the jedi that embarrased him...his face etched into the Kel Dor's memory. He was here...on the planet. This would be interesting...

Orik stretched out his hand and the hilt of his lightsaber flew to it. He caught it and closed his fingers, wrapping them around the pure black cylinder. "You shall soon be used. You will clash with another blade soon. I feel it within the force itself. It is calling to me, beckoning me to prepare you and myself. So I shall..." The Kel Dor closed his eyes as the saber hovered over a table. Various tools fell around it, laying there ready for Orik to use. Each was necessary, each one with a purpose that would aid the sith lord in accomplishing his task. The goal must be achieved if he was to answer the call of the dark side with brute force, executing the mission with an extreme passion. His hands flew to the task at hand, not wasting a moment. Everything rushed in his mind, his hands were moving too fast for the eye to follow. A great surge of the dark side was guiding his hands. When the force cried out that it was too much, that it would no longer give Orik the knowledge he needed, the sith lord took it by the neck and strangled it until it would listen to him. Every time it resisted, it soon bowed before him like it always did. A substance soon covered the hilt now. The casing was completly transparent, and it was a little more sticky to the touch than the gallian firestone that the hilt's outer casing was comprised of. The sith lord smiled at the work. Soon, he took out a container of water. It was just long enough for a fully extended lightsaber to fit into. It was perfect. Slowy, Orik activated the lightsaber. The blade illuminated the inside of the escort shuttle with blood red light, bringing a sick smile to Orik's face underneath his oxygen mask. The sith lord moved the blade in the air a few times for the soul purpose of listening to the humm. It feeled his ears with a sound that made his grin extend even more. It was the last sound that his foes would hear, the last sound that a jedi would hear before his body laid on the ground lifeless. The thought of a jedi's body going limp made Orik's heart skip a beat. After dwelling upon such thoughts, the Kel Dor put his lightsaber right over the container, using the force to hold it there. Walking slowly away from the water-filled container, Orik folded his arms, his eyes staring straight into the hilt of the saber. The dark side was a great wonder that could perform many things, and it had led him to the discovery of what he was about to see. Suddenly, Orik let his left hand control the movements of the container, which he levitated so taht it was directly over the hilt. Slowly, he used the dark side to tip the container slightly, every so slightly. Water began to drip on the hilt. Then more...then more...until suddenly all the water in the container came crashing down upon the crimson blade. Orik smiled as the droplets splashed upon the ground, soaking some of his belongings. He didn't care, he had just accomplished something that would help him greatly in his upcoming battles. Gazing upon his saber, he watched as the blade still shone with the red aura that accompianed the beam of pure white. It was still on...the circuits hadn't shorted out...he had just made his saber water-resistant. Of course, it would be of no use to him if he needed it in the ocean or something to that extent. That would require a few other adjustments that were to complex for him. However, it would be able to withstand rain and short periods of emmersion in shallow water. Orik heated up the water by moving the molecules faster and faster. He then started to slowly cool the water vapor that resulted, and the droplets of water that followed landed back perfectly in the container. No wasted water...for he needed whatever liquids he could get while he was staying on this waste of a planet. The Kel Dor took the hilt of his lightsaber and the beam retreated back into the cylinder. The sith lord walked to the coc-pit of his ship, his smile changing from one of pride to one of sadistic pleasure as he mulled over the possible uses of the newest feature he had installed in his lightsaber. Taking control of the escort shuttle, he moved the ship much closer to the city to speed up his arrival. A great cry of pain reached out to him in the force. The dark side was laughing as the death toll climbed and elevated. This pleased the sith lord greatly. "You are doing well my apprentice."

Orik had been meditating inside his ship. There was something familiar on the planet, a presence that he had seen before...he was trying to place it. Trying to put a face to it...until he was suddenly interupted by his apprentice coming back with the fruit. The ramp lowered quickly and Marcellus climbed in quickly. As the ramp closed with a thud, his apprentice stood holding the fruit that Orik had sent him to get. "Good, you did as I asked. You have brought me fruit. Now you will have something to eat tonight. Sith must work for everything they get, we don't rely on the light side of the force like servants. We are not the jedi." Sensing deep into the mind of Nero, the Kel Dor saw feelings line up before him. They were like a book, easy to read. It was almost as if Orik was reading Marcellus on the quickly little mission that Orik had sent him on. Restraint...what was this? He restrained himself for the fact he was on a mission? Restraint was a meaningless cage that some put around themselves to justify mediocrity. Morals are used as an excuse for the absense of power. If Marcellus was to be a sith, he would have to be broken from the habit of restraint. Orik tapped into the dark side. It was all around him, filling the Shrieking Talon. Everything was connected, including the fruit that was held in the hands of the Kel Dor's apprentice. Slowly, Orik used his finger to guide the fruit as it hovered in the air with ease. "Two things. One: Anything can be used as a weapon. Two: Anything you have earned can be taken from you uness you have the power to stop it." Suddenly, the fruit flew at a speed so rapidly that it knocked Marcellus to the ground. It was so quick that it didn't even give Nero the time to sense it in the force or look toward it in time to save himself from the massive collision. The sweet inner juice of the fruit now sprayed all around and the entire ship smelled of it. The stench was sickening sweet and it was foul by all of Orik's standards. "This next task will be incredibly hard. Do you see this cup?" Ork held up a plastic cup, identicle to other ones that could be found in the shuttle. It had nothing in it and was completly empty. Orik then used the force and sent strength to his fingers, which easily crushed it and he then broke it into five different peices. "First put the cup back together using the force. You may not touch the cup. You can speed up molecules through the dark side and create the necessary heat you might need for the task. Solid objects are a bit easier. Liquids are harder. You must take the juice from the fruit and put it inside the cup. After that, go out to where you bought the fruit. Do not use restraint. Bend the dark side to your will until it screams out in pain the mission that you must accomplish."

Orik saw the blade fly toward him at remarkable speed. This move wasn't really expected in the least bit, and his apprentice had indeed thought outside of the box when selecting a response. The Kel Dor spun his blade around in a three-sixty motion, batting the sword to the side. As he landed in front of a now weaponless Marcellus, he used the force to call Nero's sword to his other hand. The vibro-blade flew threw the air and found Orik's hand with ease. The sith lord stood there, both blades staring down at the apprentice with cold judgement that was reserved only for the impartial nature of a weapon. Orik simply walked over and made a scissor motion with both swords, stopping as soon as the swords rested on Marcellus' shoulders and were barely touching his neck. "Impressive, although you should be more careful of the position of your weapon." The sith lord took a step backward and tossed his apprentice the vibro-blade that he held in his left hand. It landed on the shuttle floor with a clang, right next to Nero's leg. Orik looked for a case from amid some of the crates that were stacked inside of his ship. Using the force, not bothering with wanting to stand on some crates to try to remove the case, the object merely floated out to him and landed on a table. "Within here are multiple weapons that can be used in multiple different ways. Which best suits you?" The case opened to reveal three different weapons. All of them were menacing looking, and one glance at them would give you enough information on them that you wouldn't be surprised that they were in the possession of a sith lord. One was a tradtitional vibroblade, only the blade was pure black and the handle was black and gold. Other than that it was fairly simple in design. Another thing that set this weapon apart was that it contained a cortosis weave, so that it could come into contact with lightsabers without being sliced to bits. Another was a vibroblade that looked almost exactly similar to the blade that was just described. However, the blade was a good foot longer. To compensate for the extra weight on the end, the handle was a bit longer and was adorned in silver markings that accompanied a silver grip. Another was a two-sided black vibroblade. The handle was black with bronze markings and was incredibly long. The two blades on each end were dark as the other two swords. "Choose which one you would like and then head out and bring me back some fruit. The sand storm is slowing down so you might have the luxury of sight, but don't take it for granted. Go now." As Orik spoke, the landing ramp quickly descended and Marcellus was sent flying to the sand by a force push that the sith lord had quickly used. The ramp immediatly closed so that not much sand was let into the interior. The Kel Dor's voice could still be heard as he amplified it through the dark side. "Use the dark side to help you find your way."

Orik saw that his apprentice had wasted no time in displaying his finesse in combat. The vibro-blade shifted from one direction to the other in very little time, slicing at a great speed. The dark side pulsed through the Kel Dor's body. He was the sword, looking at his opponenet's movements through the eyes of his blade. The sith lord was sensing the being's movements before they occured, and had expected the complicated swing that Marcellus was execuiting. "Impressive..." Orik only had time to say one word before he was forced to block. The blades clanged and the sound boomed inside the shuttle. Sliding up Marcellus' blade, the Kel Dor took a higher position and force the being into a saber lock. The sith lord's muscles tensed as energy flowed into them. Appearence is not everything. Even as Bendan didn't appear to be an incredibly strong individual, he was much more fit than many of the sith in his order. Orik grunted as he forced Marcellus to the point where he was almost sitting on the ground. The force only enhanced every single muscle in the Kel Dor's body, making it more powerful than could hever be conceived by appearence. "You tapped into the force. Apply it and increase your power!" Orik spun both sabers around out of the lock and used an incredible ammount of speed to do a spin kick on his apprentice. His foot met Marcellus' cheek head on, or what was left of his cheeck after the flesh had disappeared so long ago. He was sent flying to the side, straight into the crate that hade just housed the apprentice's saber until Nero had used the force to pull it out. "Agression, the key to offense. Being agressive can cause a counter attack, which you must return with a powerful counter of your own. Watch as I demonstrate." Orik flipped, his saber coming down and using the flip as a fulcrum for even more power. The sith lord's eyes closed as he sensed Nero. There were so many options. He could sidestep and swing horizontally, to which Orik would move his saber slightly to block and continue his flip, extending his leg to kick his face straight into a wall. Perhaps he would attempt to block vertically, which he would be off balance for his next attack and the Kel Dor would easily teach him a lesson. Orik used the force in mid-air to send his apprentice a message. It would appear as a thought, only it would appear as though Orik would saying it. Implanting a thought was somewhat difficult while still focusing his power on his swing, but it was accomplished none the less. Don't think. React. Think outside of the usual.

Orik smiled at the completion of the task. The blade shone due to the lighting in the shuttle. Marcellus helt the blade in a position that from Orik's viewpoint, he could see the beings refleciton in the cold, hard betal. His eyes were that of fire and shown with a new found feeling of assurance A new found feeling of confidence. The Shrieking Talon had accumlated a layer of dust on it and it slowly sunk into the unstable sand. Orik smiled. This would help the later stages of Nero's training, and it would certianly please Orik to have any added bonuses that he could get. "You feel the blade in your hand. Now stretch out with the force. All you have learned of combat can be enhanced in the force and you can be more efficient. You can be stronger in every way." Orik reached for the silver-lined sword at his back. He had gotten rid of his vibro-swords. There was little use for them now. This blade he now used had a dark energy that shrowded it with the dark side. It was created of darkness and brought just that. It would be a silver blur in the wind and would cut through flesh like a knife through butter. The Kel Dor held it in two hands. The style that he would use for the sword would be different than how he handled the saber. Orik took it and stood in Form IV, ready to use agilty and spped to achieve acrobatic feats that would help him in combat. "The sword in your hand is useless unless you can weild it. I want you to fuel yourself with anger and agression. They are a foundation for which you build yourself upon. They enhance the force, the force enhances you, and you enhance your anger and hate. It is a vicious cycle that ends in one possible outcome: power." Orik gazed into the red eyes of Marcellus, staring straight at him. The glares of the two met and collided. Both were intense. It was a test to see the character of his apprentice. "Now, take up your vibro-blade and attack me."

The vibroblade stuck into the heart of a crate, penetrating it with ease due to the great ammount of force that ha dbeen displayed by the apprentice. This visual sign was not what Orik was looking for. Suddenly, throughte force, he sensed a sudden surge of the dark side. It came from the soul of Marcellus as he rose above the dark side, imposing his well upon it with ease. This had manifested itself in a physical display. "Good. You are seeing things through new eyes now. Everyone has an aura in the force. Look at your hands, you shall see a blackened shadow that seems to emit from your very core. Your aura is one of blackness...one of darkness. After your training is complete, you will be more than just darkness in the force. You shall be pitch black. The concept of a black hole is that it is so dense that no light can penetrate it. Think of yourself as a blackhole...without any light." Turning to the crate, he looked at the vibroblade that was lodged in it. This would serve a great purpose in Marcellus' next step of training. After he had tapped into the force, what good would it be if he didn't use it. What good was a tool without a purpose, or a weapon without a use? "Do you see that vibroblade? You put that there without touching it. That is a fraction of your power. Now use that same power to bring it back to your hand. Stretch out and feel the handle within your grasp." The handle was the only visible part of the weapon, the rest was hidden inside of the empty crate. It was impressive to see it go in, but lets see how impressive it would be for it to come out.

The escort shuttle Shrieking Talon dropped out of hyperspace as the desert wasteland that was Tatooine faded into view. Orik turned and looked at his apprentice, whom he had forced to sit in the co-pilot's seat. Privacy was something that was dear to the sith lord, and having an apprentice finding out about him wasn't something he wanted. The ship entered the atmosphere and was soon hovering slowly as the shuttle prepared for landing. The Shrieking Talon was engulfed in a sandstorm, swallowed up by the tan grains that spanned out across the entire planet. Orik guided the ship in from a combination of years of piloting the shipi and the dark side of the force, sensing the ground beneath him although it was no visible. After it touched down, Orik hopped out of his seat very quickly. He looked all around his ship, just thankful for being able to see things. The Kel Dor was doing this because he would not be opening his eyes for the majority of his stay on the planet most likely. In fact, it might be good just to get his training started inside the ship. "Well, as you can see, the forecast is burning hot sun with temperatures around 120 degrees most likely. 100% chance of collossal sandstorms. Lovely day I'd say." Orik had a brief flashback to Raxus Prime, where he had begun his training with his own master. He would not be the same type of teacher. Orik knew what it was like for people to glare at him. Dirty looks in cantinas, formal gatherings were usually out of the question. It allowed the Kel Dor to respect his apprentice a bit, due to the fact that the prejudice against his disfigured body must be even worse. "We'll stay inside for the first part of your training. The force is a weapon, the greatest you could ever find. You may have had a vibro-sword, but the force could rip it from your hand. It could allow you to weild it much better. However, it has a will that you must break. Just as the sword I plunged through your leg did not make you give up, neither should the resistence from the force." "Tap into the force and bend it. It should come to you naturally, and it has most likely already saved your life. It is more powerful than flesh, and a mere fire can't penetrate it. Force it to submit to you, and weild it's power. Yes, I know that you must've gone through a fire. I can sense it on you. It was the dark side that saved you, it was your natural affinity with the force that allowed you to go to the academy. You're a living, breathing example of the power of the dark side. That being said. you must make that power bow before you and harness it. This is your first excercise. I will be able to tell if you have accomplished this task."

Orik smiled at this feat of will. The display of speed and agilty combined with Nero's fluid motions had impressed the sith lord. ”œI can assure you, that I am worthy of being a sith.”

”œWhy is it that you have approached someone such as I?”¦ An outcast”¦ and Exile.”

Orik had found his way to the Shrieking Talon and laid down in his cot. What would he do next? What was his next move? As he had walked other sith had gazed at him with a questioning glance, not very familiar with his face and oxygen mask. Every time he would respond with a look that would send any hopeful running to their mothers, if only their mothers were there. The sith lord had also dropped by the medical center to treat some of the injuries he had sustained. While they repaired him, they told him that his right hand and his back had recovered one hundred percent and that he would be able to continue. However, they did explain that the blackened scar it left could be taken away, but he denied it. It was a reminder of his first embarassment, his first defeat. Every time he was reminded of his anger. No matter, he now had the skills that he believed could defeat the jedi that did this to him. The jedi that marred his hand would pay for making him run. Orik Bendan vowed never to run from a fight with any jedi, even if it meant that he would lose. Althought now he fealt on top of the galaxy, invincable. Unbeatable. Sitting up and walking through the grounds of the academy, he realized that he didn't know hardly any of the sith. Those who remained in his order were a mystery to him. Although he didn't know them, he could feel their hate. Every single face he saw was either a fear stricken hopeful or a ruthless warrior. It was hate that seperated these weaklings from the strength of those who could truly call themselves sith. ...and I am one of the warriors... Pondering this, he realized two things. One: A warrior must fight if he is to maintain his status as a warrior. Two: A warrior should pass on his knowledge to others in hopes to create other warriors to fight along side with him. Now a task was laid before him, to teach someone the ways of the dark side. To teach someone how to use their hate and manifest it in a visible display of power for all to fear. He would take an apprentice, one whom he would train to become a sith. Stretching out in the force, Orik surveyed the academy. Some were much stronger than others, much more suited for combat. However, these were not the ones he was looking for. The sith lord searched for someone who had a burning passion inside of them to make the world pay. Very few lived up to his standards, few of them had the potential to be the striking icons of death that he wished to mold. However, one did. A being scarred by pain and misery. A wonder why he was still alive...if you could call him a person or alive for that matter. His heart was blackened by cruelty and his soul was hollow. Orik walked and looked at a computer. It scheduled for an exile of the republic to enter the academy. This exile fit the description of the one he was looking for, and a name was given. "Marcellus." Searching the sith academy, Orik finally found the man he was looking for. A presence surrounded him that drew glances from other sith. The Kel Dor overheard a conversation between two other sith. "Hey, I'm glad I'm going to get chosen before that guy." "Yeah, me too. He looks more like someone that got beat to death than a sith." Orik faced the two, both normal looking humans that stood just below him in height. Their faces were covered by youthful features and they seemed to be more egotistical than combat-oriented. Who were they to talk? "Leave this area of the academy and go converse elsewhere before I am forced to take your skulls as trophies." Glancing at eachother and then back at the sith lord, the two turned and walked away like they weren't afraid. However, their eyes showed great fear of death. This was confirmed when he sensed they started running away once they were out of his sight. Fear could be a useful thing that could save somebody's life, and Orik was quickly reminded that even with his new found power that he could still be put in his place by the Dark Lord or someone who rivaled him in power. Of course, he wasn't sure about the presence of the Dark Lord, for he had never met him. For all he knew, the sith could be in disarray, and the Kel Dor would have no way of knowing. Looking back toward the hopeful, noticed that the man tried to hide his disfigured appearence. Orik could only imagine the prejudice that had scarred the being, but felt no pity for him. In fact, he thought of it as an advantage in a way. It would open up new doors to emotion that most would never think of. Orik walked to the back of the man, and stopped one meter short of him. "Marcellus Nero. Republic exile...can you tell me why you are here? What has brought you to the planet of Cardia?"

Orik smiled underneath his mask. It didn't take him long to think of a planet to travel to. "Would Cardia be too far away?"

Orik raised from the ground of Korriban, standing up on his own two feet as he would for the rest of his life. He had aquired the power that he sought after for so long and he was finally worthy of being called a sith. This moment was the focus of many dreams he had since hearing of the sith, and a sense of pride filled the Kel Dor from head to toe. The newly appointed sith took the silverlined sword in his hand, gazing at his reflection through the clear blade, save the blood. Suddenly, his mind began to twist, a great ripple coming through his mind. It was almost as if his spirit was being torn from his bones, from his body. Everything vanished. He was no longer on Korriban, but in an endless field of white. The light annoyed him, and it extremely bright as it stung his eyes. Orik looked all around him to see nothing. His mind pondered every single option that it could. Was this reality? Was he dreaming? Was this the will of the force. Yes, it was real...no mere dream...but he didn't sense that this was through the force. It was something deeper inside of him, something that was present in his soul and that the outside world was oblivious to. For some reason, he saw a sword. It was different from the one he held in his left hand, the one that he had retrieved from the tomb of Ajunta Pall. Just a mere glance let the Kel Dor understand the power that it held. It was no ordinary sword, it had something special to it. A word was spoken by a source that Orik couldn't necessarily point out. No one was around him, and suddenly a word boomed so loudly that it shook the odd dimension that the sith lord seemed to be in. Esrever... Reality faded back into view, as the white slowly dissipated and the planet of Korriban replaced the sight. Something told Orik that no time had passed, and that he had just received some sort of spiritual message. Spirituality wasn't something Orik had given much thought in his life, but there was no other immediate explanation for what he had seen. Looking back at his master, he tried to hide his vision and properly thank her. "Thank you for this title and for all the training you have given me in the dark side. I hope that we may fight along side eachother against the jedi one day." The new sith lord wasn't exactly sure what to do now. His only ship was somewhere on Cardia and he would have to ask for a ride with his former master to drop him off somewhere, unless he could find alternate transportation. Of course, it didn't seem like there would be any hope of alternate transportation on a barren planet such as Korriban. "So, where are you off to now?"

(3) The apprentice stared at the sarcophagus, eyes wide open. His heart rate sped up until it was racing faster than a landspeeder. A strange energy occupied the room. Orik looked around, surveying the area and praying he didn't find any more surprises. He couldn't see anything, but the dark side was telling him something... You're not alone... Walking to the center of the room, Orik looked around the room for an artifact that he could bring back to his master. She had required him to bring something back, and he wanted it to be of value. Closing his eyes, the Kel Dor felt the force. It struggled to stay away from him, but he forced it to submit to his will, forced it to show him what to do. There was something close, something so near that he could touch it, but he couldn't see it. It was hidden, either invisible or inside something. Inside something... Looking toward the sarcophagus, the apprentice took out his saber. Rather than open it, he would cut it open with his saber, in hopes that if anything living was still in there waiting to surprise him, he would kill it as he opened the box. Slowly the sarcophagus melted away as the crimson blade cut out a square. Using the force, Orik lifted the square and tossed it to the ground. Inside he found something he could give back to his master, a silver lined sword. The dark side aura shrowded the sword and it looked sharp and unused. There were indentations where two other swords could have gone, but it seems that they had been removed. Orik walked up to the sarcophagus and reached his hand inside. As he felt the blade, it cut his hand. He smiled as his blood was spilt on the silver blade. The Kel Dor gripped the sword in his hand and slowly removed it, enjoying the pain that he felt in his hand as he gripped tighter and tighter until his knuckles turned whiter than the brightest sun in the galaxy. Then, a whisper. It was barely audible and completly impossible to interpret, but it was there. A cold sensation crept up his shoulder, and it felt as though he were being gripped by ice. The dark side told Orik to sit in a transe, and he did so. The whispers became louder, more easily understandable. Suddenly, the form of a sith spirit formed right in front of Orik, holding a ghost like knotched sword in one hand. So you have come to my tomb to take an artifact and complete your training. Orik looked deep into the spirit's eyes, examining the character and force of the spirit. It would appear that this man was... Ajunta Pall? "What? How did you read my mind? Get out of my thoughts." You are different than the last one I talked to, Rainwater I believe his name was or something to that extent. We had a nice conversation, but I'm not sure if he listened to my warning. "Now what warning would that be?" I told him to question the dark side, that perhaps that path was a path better left not taken. I see that you have a newly formed lightsaber, I've seen you make it just recently. I've seen you display great skill when you killed those terantatek and when you made your way to this room. I also know that this is your final trial before becoming a sith. "Yes, I'm guessing you spirits can go various places pretty fast eh? Well, why did you follow me around, why not another?" Do you know how rare it is that I see a being come to Korriban. Sure, the rest of the sith come here for the same reasons you are, but the visits are usually few and far between. "I see...do you warn them of the dark side too?" I do all I can. I'd suggest you listen to my words, for this eternity of boredom and wandering has given me wisdom and the power to look upon my life in retrospect rather than be tossed to the wind with each passing situation. "The dark side leads to power, I have no clue what you are talking about..." Oh yes, it leads to power. It also leads to corruption. You'll turn on everyone, everything you ever knew. You're beliefs will be forfeit and your friends will be enemies. I believe someone you know is learning that you can't trust any of the dark ones the hard way, even those you love. "What are you talking about? Who are you talking about?" That is for a different time and that is not for me to say. Do not inquire for if you are truly meant to know than the force would tell you. That is not the point however. You must turn away from the darkness, it leads to nothing but hurt and pain. Use me as an example. "I'll do what I please. I will take the sword and leave your tomb. I guess it has been nice meeting a Dark Lord. I just have one question. How was a powerful sith such as yourself defeated?" Anyone can be defeated. Sometimes it is not even by your enemies, sometimes your allies will turn on you. I guess it would be fair to say that the dark side killed me. "If this is true, than when I harness the power of the dark side even more, I have the potential to be greater than a dark lord!" No, that is not what I meant. I meant... Orik drowned out the meaningless noise in the background, rising from his transe and running out of the tomb. The apprentice had the silver-lined sword in one hand and the hilt of his lightsaber in the other to light his way out. As he ran back to his master, he felt no exhaustion from the long travel. The force had replenished him, taking away any chance of being tired or weary from his journey. Once the sith apprentice saw the red twilek, he sprinted to her and bowed to her on his knees, holding the silver-lined sword in two hands. The blade of the weapon rested in the open palm of his left hand and where the blade met the handle, Orik's right hand supported it with yet another open palm. Tilting his head upwards, knees still to the ground, he looked at his master with a look that he had never given anybody before for various reasons. His eyes beamed with confidence after the entire ordeal, but hey also displayed something he had never had for any other person in the world. They displayed something he didn't even have for himself until this journey began. Respect "Lady Zsahra, I have retrieved this blade from the tomb of Ajunta Pall."

(2) They're eyes glowed a fierce red, attempting to pierce through Orik's cold heart to no avail. The blackness of the beasts was suiting due to the darkness that Orik had found in their hearts. He sensed that the force had some connection with them, that they were linked in some way that he couldn't quite put his finger on. No matter, he would destroy them just they way they intended to devour him. Using the force, he called the power of the dark side to his left hand. His saber was in his right hand, his right arm extended with the tip of the blade staring at the beasts straight in the eyes. With all the force summoned in his left hand, he made a pulling gesture. Without option, the beast flew in the air towards the apprentice, and the companion leaped freely towards Orik. The Kel Dor rolled and used the pulled beast's momentum so that the saber would slice the body cleanly in half. It worked perfectly, and the creature's body fell apart in mid air. Quickly and without hesitation, the apprentice gazed at the upper body of the beast he had just sliced in half. Using the dark side, he stopped it in mid air and changed the direction. As the remaining creature was close to him, the face of the beast suddenly met the upper body of the dead beast with quite a bit of force. One of the arms on the upper body stung the creature during the collision. Orik smirked and stood up, saber pointing toward the ground confidently. The arm contained a poison that rendered the beast's muscles useless. Orik took the blade of his saber and made two swift swings that beheaded both of his opponents. "I knew I would not be your prey today, tuk'ata." Looking at the two fallen guardians of the tomb, he couldn't help but wonder if that was all. Is that all the opposition he would have to face? Would there be no other defenses? Sadly, there were. Out of a hallway, five tuk'ata poured out, Each salivating all over their three rows of teeth. The beasts of the dark side were here to serve their master, the dark side of the force. They would protect Ajunta Pall's tomb at any cost, and Orik would have it no other way. All five of them hurled themselves toward Orik, a collective mass of death leaping toward him. Orik decided he would test his saber skills on this task. In a fencing position, he sliced the lead beast and shortly after rolled under the jumping tuk'ata. After rolling under them, he held his saber behind his back, the blade pointing to the ceiling as high as the apprentice's flexibility would allow him. One of the tuk'ata couldn't jump over the saber, and lost its legs. Getting quickly back into position, he did a one-hundred eighty degree turn and used the momentum to slice the now legless guardian into nothingness. He then charged head on with the beasts, all of them looking to kill the Kel Dor. A swift kick batted one of the remaining three down while his saber proceeded to chop off the arms that were being sent to sting him. After a beast had dodged one of his swings, he used the force to aid in a colossal kick. The kick landed and the tuk'ata let out a cry of pain. "What?" Orik looked as his foot was elevated, pinning the beast to an obelisk of some sorts. That was funny; he hadn't seen that there before. He'd have to be more aware of his surroundings. The Kel Dor used the force to force push his foot into the beast as hard as he could, until eventually the tuk'ata's body exploded from the force and so did a large portion of the obelisk. The two remaining beasts lunged at Orik, who quickly ran up the stone obelisk and flipped over them. They smashed through the structure and it fell on them, rendering them immobile. The destruction of the obelisk had triggered something...he felt something in the force. He heard a sound...Bzzz Duck Orik He heard the force tell him to duck, and he responded without thinking. A blaster bolt was sent his way, followed by others. Staring up, he knew what the buzzing noise was...the activation of four shield generators belonging to four different droids. Orik stood right in front of the obelisk that rested on the tuk'ata and watched as some blaster bolts hit their faces. Rolling around, he managed not only dodge all the blaster fire but behead the fallen opposition. Stretching out in the force, he started a spark of heat. It grew and grew, just as it had when he had learned the technique of pyrokenesis, only this time it grew much faster and much larger. Eventually, the droid that the flame had been born right in front of started to melt...with the shield on. As soon as the weapons melted, Orik hurled the flame toward the droid right next to the one that had been rendered weaponless. The guardian suffered no damage and the flames just spilled off of the shield. Stretching out in the force, Orik pushed that droid down into the nothingness that was right behind it, a gaping hole into the abyss. Two left. The apprentice was having trouble deflecting all that blaster fire with his saber. The curve in the bottom helped him to swing with one hand much easier, but for some reason made it more awkward to deflect the blaster fire. Orik was lucky there weren't more droids, or then he would really be doomed. Using the force, he felt the two remaining droids in the force. He sensed every part, every weapon...every power supply. Yes, that was it. Using the dark side, he cut off the energy cells that they were using to power their weapons. All of the droids now were either at the bottom of the tomb or harmless, just the way Orik wanted it. He casually walked toward a door. On the other side, he felt a swirl of emotion. A swirl of destiny. A touch of life in this cold, barren valley that laid home to this cold, barren tomb that played host to the ancient sith Ajunta Pall. As he flicked a switch to open the door, the three remaining droids exploded. If I had known that before... Quietly he proceeded into the room as he deactivated his saber. It crawled back into the pitch black hilt and the hiss of the saber ceased. As he walked further into the tomb, a feeling in his stomach seemed to emerge. The feeling only intensified when he saw a sarcophagus...

(1) Bowing to his master, Orik examined the task before him. Go into a tomb, collect an artifact, and be gone. It seemed simple enough to break into something that had been host to nothing but bones for so many years. "Thank you master. I will not fail you." Feeling the darkness of the planet, he let the dark side guide him to where he would go. A path laid before him, beckoning him to follow it though it was not visible to one's eyes. Orik took a step down the path. At that moment, he knew he was ready. He was ready to take on this trial, this challenge. He was ready to become a sith lord. Orik Bendan was ready. Following the force, he rushed through the terrain of the planet until he came to a valley. A strange, dark presence inhabitated the valley, more so than any other place that he had been too on the planet. The darkness surveyed the valley and whispered something into his ear that didn't make any sense. Something about a valley of the dark lords or something like that. Taking a deep breath, he proceeded to enter the valley. A sense of danger and history almost overwhelmed him, but nothing really completly overwhelmed him any more. Not since his training, not since he started his journey to become a sith. Slowly, he approached a group of tombs. One in particular stuck out in the force, a sense of destiny eminating from it. Entering the dark tomb, Orik placed his hand on the curved, black hilt of his lightsaber, just in case. Originally he didn't think he would need it, but the dark side was telling him otherwise. He must always be prepared, always ready to do whatever is needed. Being caught by surprise wasn't going to get him anywhere in the galaxy. It was hard to see inside, and the force was so strong that it was like a fog everywhere. To allow for an easier time, he held his hilt to the air and activated the blade. A blood red light poured into the chamber, the soul source of light save the miniscule bit of light from the entrance. Walkign down deeper into he chambers, Orik came across a ramp. Using the force he was able to silence his footsteps. Every move he made was noisless and perfectly stealthy, sticking to the shadows. In the silence, any other noise would be amplified so that he could hear it easily. Suddenly, his ears picked up something, a noise of some sort. The apprentice channeled the force to compliment his senses, pouring the energy to his ears in an attempt to see if his mind was playing tricks on him. Unfortunatly, it wasn't. Ka-dump. Ka-dump. It repeated over and over again. Some of the nosies were louder, some of them softer. Ka-dump. Ka-dump. When the Kel Dor had reached the bottom, Orik rolled onto the stone floor with a thud, not caring about maintaining a stealthy presence any longer. He realized what he was hearing...heart beats. Two beasts turned to him, licking their lips with happiness at some prey. They would soon find out that they had started to mess with not the prey, but a predator in search of completing his trials.

Orik looked at his master as she entered a transe. Folding his legs indian style, the apprentice did the same. Suddenly, he could hear something. It sounded like someone was talking to him, but he couldn't immediatly see anyone. With each passing the second, the words grew more clear. Coming into view, he saw two spirits. One was that of a man, and another seemed remarkably like the spirit he had encountered earlier. Each had a certain mystic power that seemed to come from within them that kept them there. They were trapped for all eternity, doomed to nothingness and boredom. Surely the chance to talk with the living would excite them. The spirit he had spoke to before turned his gaze to the apprentice, and continued talking. "So, you've killed a terentatek. I bet you're pretty proud of yourself, aren't you. In fact, I am willing to bet that you're too proud to realize all the mistakes you made." The other spirit looked a little less harsh. A feeling of somber was embedded in his eyes. "This was his first battle with a lightsaber, give him a break. Although your master, the lady, is wise. You should've drawn upon your pain and fueled yourself rather than push it aside." "I suppose I could have, I didn't really think of it at the time." "You didn't think...that's not the answer. The problem was you did think. If you didn't think, you would've felt the pain and embraced it without hesitation. Thinking is a dangerous thing in battle." "I suppose it is, if it hindered me in my fight with the beast. "You would be wise to listen to those around you, but do not be tricked by the lightside and their lies of glory. My most important warning to you could be this. Never die." Orik looked at the spirit with a puzzled expression. Never die? How could that be possible, to live forever? "Become more powerful than death or you will be reduced to nothing but a wandering entity with no purpose except to suffer and talk to the living that very rarely come to whatever waste of a planet you're on." "There are no limits to what the dark side can do. "Thank you for this talk." With that, the Kel Dor rose from his transe. The spirits were still speaking to him, but he ignored them and shut them out as totally as he could. The words "Never die" echoed through his brain. To accomplish such a goal, he would have to be perfect, never falling to a jedi or any other. That was one thing he desired to do anyway.

Orik nodded to his master. There was a slight change in her since the talk with the woman. The woman had the dark side coming from her more powerfully than he had ever sensed in anyone so far. It was astonishing and almost overwhelming. Perhaps one day he would possess such power. Focusing on the task at hand, he stretched out in the force. Every single creature on the planet was him, he was them. They were all one massive collection of beings, and Orik would try to manipulate one of them. Searching the planet with his mind, he found a beast not far. It was blind, containing a mind so empty that it could focus on nothing more than prey. He had seen this type of creature before, but this one was larger. This was the terantatek he would attempt to slay. Orik thought of his location, and thought of hostility. Combining the two into one thought, he connected with the creature through his mind. The thought traveled between the two and they both shared it, only the terantetek didn't know it was being manipulated. A few moments later, the ground shook as the beast had made it's way to Orik, standing ten feet in front of him. Gripping his hilt in his hand, he activated the blood red blade. It extended in welcome at the sight of the monster, who returned the action with a loud, heart-stopping roar. Orik looked at the much larger foe without any thought of death. Running in closer, he stabbed at the beast in a fencing style. The terentatek took a giant hand and attempted to bat away the saber, but quickly found out that the weapon Orik held was no joke, as the animal howled in pain after losing a finger. The apprentice chuckled at the monster, but didn't waste too much breath. He would need all the oxygen he could get. Flipping over the monster, the Kel Dor tried to slash downard while in mid air. The beast, however, knocked his entire body to the planet. Orik hit the ground hard enough to bounce up a little bit, but wouldn't let the agony and pain distract him. Rolling to his left to dodge a downward hack from the terentatek, he swiped his saber catching the beast's hand still on the ground. Rushing to his feet, Orik didn't think as he just acted. His saber danced in his right hand and the creature backed up for fear of meeting the blade again. Of course, the beast hadn't given up, for just a few seconds later it sent another hand toward the apprentice. Orik rolled under the punch and made a stab straight into the stomach of the monster. He then pulled the crimson blade out and repeatedly stabbed the monsters stomach until the glow from his saber seemed to be camoflauged by the blood around it. With a final cry, the beast fell. Walking to his fallen opposition, the Kel Dor severed the Terentatek's skull cleanly and easily. He didn't exactly have any particular reason for this, but he just went on impulse. Orik's breath was hard to make out beneath all of his panting, but it didn't take much intellect to imagine what he said. "Done."

Orik took his new saber in his hand, gripping the black hilt along the curve. It felt good in his hand, especially so since he knew he had created it. Smiling at the thought of combat, the apprentice raised the hilt and pointed it straight at his master. A crimson beam appeared out of the end and it pointed directly at Lady Zsahra. "I will do my best." His master was focused, no doubt about that. But it was apparent that such a focus was brought on by something else. She was trying to suppress something from her mind, trying to purge it from her thoughts. Orik didn't quite know what to make of it, but he decided to do his best. He took the saber and slowly progressed towards her silver blade. Her saber was unique to the red sabers he had seen, including the one he held in his hands. Perhaps a sith was not bound to a traditional saber color. Perhaps sith were not completly bound by tradition. Feeling the dark side flow through him, he attempted to "connect with his weapon." It was like a living, breathing creature that would work with him. No, it was more like a tool that he had no manual to. The Kel Dor would have to go by feel rather than experience or knowledge, for he lacked both. Putting his somewhat hurt hand behind him, he used his good hand to lunge and attempt to stab his master. The speed at which the apprentice stabbed was much faster and much more graceful than the flimsy attacks he had attempted on Coruscant, though he had not touched a saber since then. The force had naturally improved him, making him more proficient with the sith's weapon of choice. Scenarios rushed through his head. Would his master simply sidestep the stab and then make an attack of her own? If she did, he would have to move quickly and make a quick swing at her on a horizontal level. Would she block it downwards and then slide he blade upwards and attack Orik? If that occured, he'd back up and try to push her blade away from his body with his own saber. Many other things rushed through his mind in these miliseconds. He had to be ready for anything she would throw at him. Swing, that stab will be blocked The idea came to him all of a sudden, and it was more like someone was telling him to swing rather than thinking about it. Listening to the advice, he flicked his wrist around and swung at his master's chest/neck.

Orik stared to the left to find additional supplies. He felt the wood in the cauldron. He focused on the air molecules around the wood, rubbing them together. The friction built and built. Heat was created out of nothingness and suddenly set flame to the wood, which now fired out of the cauldron in a brilliant display. Orik took out some Gallian Firestone that he had gotten from the planet Gall. It represented almost all of Orik's possessions, since he never owned much in his previous life as a smuggler. The gems were black as the night, as dark as the Kel Dor wanted his hilt to be. He used the force to levitate the gems over the fire. They heated up, their molecular structure becoming a little more unstable. Using the force, the sith apprentice sped up the movement of the molecules to the point where the gems were almost liquid in form. In the air, the gems were molded by pressure that Orik created using the force to fit as a prefect cylindrical casing in the shape of a hilt. Using the force, he guided the circutiry to reflect his crystal. The force was telling him something though, prodding the back of his mind to listen. Make me your own. Make me your own Orik saw the crystal and looked at it in his hand. He knew what he had to do. The Kel Dor cut his hand on a rock purposly, and let the blood flow. He was bleeding pretty badly, and then poured his blood into the fire. The sith apprentice manipulated the dark side to make a crystal out of his own blood. Out came a crystal with a red glow to it. Taking both and inserting them into the hilt, he used the force to guide him in applying the circuitry that was needed to create the lightsaber. He didn't truly know what he was doing, but he was doing it. Orik, and the very bottom of the hilt, applied a small charge internally, and very small charges throughout the hilt. This idea had come to him for some reason, and he didn't know why. He also wondered why the force had led him to curve the saber's bottom slightly. No answers came to him, but he was sure that they existed. Adding a switch on it for activation purposes, he looked at what he had so far. A pure black lightsaber hilt, no markings or anything. Nothing but black. It brought a smile to the apprentice's face. He activated the saber, a white blade accompanied by the red glow of the classic dark jedi. The hum was pleasent and images of Orik weilding the weapon and cutting down jedi flashed into his mind and stayed there. this would be reality. Orik quickly exited the mine and ran to where his master was. She would be happy to find he had completed his task. On his way, however, he felt a presence. It was like it was there, but it wasn't really made of matter. So you think you have the skills to become a sith... "Who said that?" A ghost like spirit appeared right in front of the Kel Dor, mildly frightening him but at the same time exciting him. He'd never encountered a spirit before. It is I, a former sith by a name that is none of your concern. Why do you wish to pursue the path of the sith? "Power. I want the power to do whatever I want. I want the power to do what must be done." And who decides what must be done? "I do." Orik was wondering who this spirit was and where this conversation was going. From what he could tell, it was going no where fast and he was eager to go to his master. He sensed rage and malice in Lady Zsahra's mind, and the apprentice was anxious to find her. The galaxy decides what must be done. The will of the force is to be imposed on the galaxy. You cannot change that. "Leave me be spirit, I need not to talk to you of wisdom or the force. You have fallen, which proves you weak." If only you knew... With the last sentence, the spirit seemed sad, as if Orik was on a path that would lead him to his death. Bendan knew this to be false though, since his path was leading him to not only life, but everything else he could've ever dreamed of. The spirit continued to talk to him as Orik ran to his master, spying her from a distance. He drew close, and the spirit left him. A temple was demolished, torn apart to nothing but rubble and ruin, with a lone sentient sitting outside. Two spirits were becoming frustrated as she payed no attention to them. Orik slowly approached her, gripping his saber hilt. "Lady Zsahra, I've finished."

Orik felt a sudden shock go through his body. He was unsure if it was caused by the massive creature that had obviously made the roar, or if it was something more. He felt a cry from his master that wound the force into a knot and then unraveled it as Lady Zsahra fell from the world of those awake and slipped into a slumber brought upon by an emotional exposion of mixed emotion. What could bring about such a reaction in a hardened sith? Perhaps she had just felt the death of someone she knew, or perhaps she had felt a defeat in the force that hurt the order. Or maybe something more. He didn't have the luxury of time to contemplate, as he was faced with a foe that he wasn't sure he could defeat. No, he had to be sure. If he wasn't confident, he would get no where. Looking outside the ship, he could see the outline of a terentatek. The creature would've normally struck fear into his cold heart before, but the sith apprentice had gone through training now. Orik was becoming a sith, and with every step he took he became closer to acheiving the power that he had always sought. No being could stand in his way. The terentatek drew closer and closer, seeing him inside the ship. Occasionally a roar would echo throughout the mine and send other creatures fleeing. He drew his two blaster pistols and stood on the top of the ship, out of easy reach from the beast. Orik then began unleashing a volley of blasterbolts at the creature. Not to his surprise, the monster did not fall. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but worry about his master. Was she alright? He had no way of knowing, and all the Kel Dor could do was ponder the situation. Any thoughts he had on the subject were quickly taken away by the visual of the terentatek coming closer to him, now walking on stones and slowly elevating itself to the same level as Orik. Orik took out a vibroblade, set it to vibrate, and then hurled it at the beast. He used the force to guide it's path as it cut through the air and into the flesh of the monster. A shriek of pain brought Orik's hands to his ears to try to muffle the cry, but it penetrated into his mind and rattled him still. With the blade still protruding from the monster's body, the terentatek pursued the sith apprentice with even more determination now. A black shroud of pain covered the creature's eyes and blinded him to anything but the most primative reaction of uncontrollable rage. Unfortunatly for Orik, the most primative responses of creatures could also be the most deadly. In the force, Orik could feel something in this creature that he had not felt when he had faced the Mynoks. There was a sort of dark aura that came from them, something to the extent of a resistence to the force. This was surprising and did not make sense to the Kel Dor, but he would have to fight the monster anyway. It made no difference. Stretching out in the force, he outstretched both of his hands. The image of the terentatek flying through the mine popped into his head and he concentrated every bit of energy on making such an event spring to existence. Unlike anything else he had used this power on, including a Mynok he had pushed earlier, the creature hadn't budged when his eyes opened. It was closer, closer now then ever. Perhaps what the sith apprentice had felt in the force was a resistence strong enough to grant the monster some sort of force immunities. This fight seemed more hopeless the more Orik tried, but he wouldn't give up. Sith didn't give up, and neither would he. Drawing his remaining vibroblade, he decided to face the creature head on. He flipped from his position with the aid of the force and slashed at the creature's head. However, his blade met only a claw and only made a cut. On the other hand, the beast used the other claw to send the Kel Dor flying backwards. As his back hit the floor, he was reminded of the relativly untreated injury that he had sustained fighting that jedi on Coruscant. Needles of pain pricked his body, but he didn't cringe. He smiled and enjoyed them while they lasted. Standing up now, despite the pain, he rushed back into the ship. As he closed the door, the terentatek's head met the door and the force of the head-butt shook the ship a bit. As the beast continued to ram into the ship, Orik searched the bodies of the two fallen skeletons. The apprentice carried with him a sith sword, and the master had a lightsaber. Looking at the hilt, Orik almost reached out to take it. Surely he could defeat the creature with such a weapon. No. It is not yours. I am yours, and you shall soon use me much like that sith would've used his saber. Do not use a weapon that you could so cheaply aquire, you must earn this battle. Only then will you be able to construct a weapon forged especially for you. Wondering why he had started hearing this voice in his head, Orik decided to listen to it and pick up the sith sword. Sneaking around the back of the ship and then stealthily moving around rocks until he was behind the beast, he looked at the sword he held in his hand. The sith apprentice whispered quietly to himself. "I can do this, I must do this." With that, he lunged toward the tarentatek. The force guided his actions and his blade was a dancing blur as it met the back of the monster's head. Waves of pain resonated in the force, and Orik delighted in the creature's suffering, bringing more and more with each swing and slash. Eventually, the tarentatek fell to his feet, lifeless as a skeleton. Gazing at the body, something caught the apprentice's eye. He had not noticed it before, and saw that there were supplies for constructing a hilt. There was also a metal cauldron with wood stacked in it. The force was telling him to use these now.