Spite Station- the Maw

[Nokrt]

"Words. Let us see what your actions say."

 

Nokrt was preparing himself, tryng to draw the Force to him should the Dark Lord challenge him with a test of his ability at this very moment, however, it was all for naught, before he had a chance to gain power to him, the pwoer of another found him. A vicegrip began to tighten around his neck, threatening to remove the Chiss's head through sheer pressue. Involutnarily, the Sith Lord's hands rushed to his throat to remove the life threatening grasp he found himself in. When his hand's only touched his own skin, he knew what had happened.

 

"Remind me, what good is a dead Sith?"

 

Nokttin'okr'tihnt tried to find his voice, but his breath had aleady become hard to find, slowly being stolen by his assailant, who he could now assume was the Dark Lord himself. He had failed, the Dark Lord did not need him, as much as he was unneeded in other parts of the galaxy, he was outcast and useless, his abilities overlooked. The Chiss did not allow the thoughts to overcome him, he wanted his place in the galaxy, he desired it, and the words of a Dark Lord would not change his mind on where he belonged. with what little amount of the Force he had he desperately thought of what he could in answer, hoping the Dark Lord could read his internal monologue.

 

Unless being used to create a zombie Sith army, dead Sith are useless,

 

 

"You can forget about serving the Order because frankly, I am the Order. They all exist to serve me and through me grow themselves, so they in turn help themselves by helping me. You help neither me, nor yourself by presenting yourself weaponless. Forget about Jedi, even amidst your own kind you know full well you are in danger. Walking around without so much as a lightsaber is a declaration of weakness, no? So, I think it would be best if you brandished something before going anywhere else."

 

Nokrt knew now this meeting was inevitable. Had he had any weapons he was to relinquish them to the interrogator before he even arrived here. This was planned, possibly since he announced himself in system, the Dark Lord had known how this would end. Nokrt tried to think of a way to communicate, to let Julio know how he would not betray him, but the vicegrip began to grow tighter, causing the blue face of the Chiss to grow paler in the lack oxygen. The Chiss's vision began to blur, his body started to go numb.

 

"I honestly do not care if you live or die, but I will not throw away potential resources without reason. So long as you prove useful, you stay alive, but I would like to see some effort on your part to make that a little easier for me."

 

Nokrt could barely hear him now, but he focused on every word that Julio said, knowing at the very end, the Dark Lord was punishing him for being gone, for lacking loyalty, for lacking the resolve to be the Sith Master he should have been by now. The Chiss clinged onto this thought knowing his end had not come so qucikly after his rebirth into the galaxy.

 

"This is the last free thing you will ever get from me."

 

He felt weight upon his hand and a release from the grip that threatened his life. Once he was on his knees, he glanced in his hand and saw a small dagger, simple, but the simplest weapon was something to defend himself wit, but not now. The man had earned Nokrt's respect, and solidified his place as Dark Lord in the mind of the Chiss, he would serve him, until he was strong enough to usurp him. Nokrt got to his feet and stood in front of the dark lord, noticing now he was drenched in his own sweat, and his hair was untidy and wet.

 

"You will want to find Yue in the prison block. You two will be working together on your studies in alchemy until the time is right. Then I will have other work for you. If there is nothing else, you are dismissed."

 

The Chiss bowed low to his Dark Lord.

 

"I appreciate the opportunity to serve, mi'lord"

 

Raising his head made his way to the door he had come through, not having the faintest idea of where anything on this station was located. The Sith Lord marched through the corridors and staircases that were throughout the massive station until he saw one of the red robed servants who had escorted him to the Dark Lord. He stood in front and pointed his gifted dagger at them.

 

"The Dark Lord has ordered me to the Prison Block, escort me there."

 

The acolyte didn't move and the Sith Lord lowered his dagger, a frown crossing his face. He walked about aimlessly through the station, going up random corridors and pathways until he arrived at living quarters on the station. Nearly all the rooms were locked and the Chiss perused until he found an open one, locking the door behind him and undressing, throwing his clothes into the wash and taking a shower to clean himself from the stench of space and sweat.

 

After a relaxing shower, the Sith Lord redressed in the modified CEDF uniform he had, and placed the dagger in belt before leaving the room, making his way through more halls until he had his sense of direction on this place established. After hours of walking, he had established a good sense of the station, and headed down a hall and elevator that led to the Prison Block.

 

Here he saw a man crafting fire out of the Force, controlling its size and radiance. It was impressive to watch. Nokrt had seen Pyromancy in the past, and attempted to experiment with it himself, but found himself having trouble with it. Perhaps now with his more clear and logical mindset, he may be able to accomplish it.

 

"Excuse me for interrupting Lord Yue," he said entering the threshold of the makeshift lab in the Prison Block, "Our Dark Lord has requested I, Sith Lord Nokittin'okr'tihnt, come here to study the Krath Arts alongside you. If you are wondering my qualifications, I have studied under a few Sith Masters before this and have been able to produce poison infused weapons, Ligthsaber Crystals born of my own malice, amongst other fine products that the Order could use."

 

((Yue, you don't have a Character Sheet in the RP Databank so I am completely guessing off your join date that you are a Sith Master))

 

EDIT: Changed title for Yue from Master to Lord per his actual rank.

[Tobias Vos]

Making a quick observation on how talented Lucifer had gotten, Tobias also wondered how a warrior was so proficient in Force Techniques. With this amount of talent, he should be an assassin. Scanning the room, his opponent’s signature was mired. So there was no way to pinpoint which was real, and which was false. Lucifer started to babble, Tobias just ignored it. He was a heat seeking missle. This was his moment. The Force flowed through him like a raging waterfall- powerful and direct. Reaching out he felt out every fiber in his body. His face was still caked in blood from letting Lucifer get a lucky shot in. Also, the single lightsaber was still on the back of his belt.

 

Holding the saber in his hand, it hummed passively. Only speaking out when Tobias moved it, calling out angrily to Lucifer. Tobias moved in a small controlled circle, keeping an eye on all the copies, and potentially the real Lucifer.

 

Then- one disappeared. Was that the real one? The other three just stood there. Yes- the one that disappeared was the real one. Reaching out- he pulled some furniture; tables, chairs, plants, into the combat radius. They were spread out in a random pattern. Tobias still stood in the center. He expected Lucifer to charge again, and this would help him find the path Lucifer traveled when his back was turned to a certain area.

 

Sooba had now entered the room- and shortly after released a blood curling shout. Through the mind weld he sensed the beast saw danger.

 

His eyes wide- Tobias swung behind him. With the grace of the Force, he blocked an incoming blow from Lucifer. Deflecting it off to his right the blades screamed at each other all the way to the floor. Acting fast, plus with the momentum, Tobias brought his left fist to Lucifer’s jugular. Then, Tobias ignited the other end of the saber which shot for Lucifer’s shoulder. The prior pause in the fight, Tobias had caught his breath in the Force, and now unleashed it- in the form of a small round house-kick to Lucifer’s right knee with Tobias’s right knee. Which then- it was followed by a Force-powered left elbow to his opponent’s rib cage, with his left fist flying down towards Lucifer’s family jewels.

 

Then he reached out once more and activated the lightsaber on the back of his belt- and spun out. The hilt spun out- no doubt cutting into Lucifer’s flesh. As soon as he spun out, the saber deactivated.

Tobias looked as Lucifer got into a fighting stance. This took only an instant, but this is all Sooba needed. The beast launched from behind Lucifer, demanding the familiar taste of blood from the Kiffar. The old man would have do deal with the ninety pound animal latched onto his back, and that was when Tobias would roll in and unleash a savage attack with his lightsaber. When he was distracted. If Lucifer ignored the attack, Sooba would ravage the mans flesh.

 

Either way, Tobias had two openings to attack.

 

((5))

(You can request a ruling after your post)

[Sheog the Mad]

With a flair for the dramatic, Sheog pushed himself quickly into Julio’s office, paying no heed to the duel going on nearby. It was certainly not the first time those kiffar had gone at it. To speak the truth, it was annoying, and he had had just about enough of them. Speaking out with a loud voice, the overlarge Hutt moved inside the door

 

<>

[Rezjal-el]

Vaegir’s expression remained as jovial as ever. It may have been speculated that his grin was simply his resting facial expression with as often as he kept it up.

 

“Vaegir Renor, though I would have thought Furion gave you my name before he sent you to fetch me.”

 

The young man reached out, grasping Llalu’s offered hand and giving it a firm shake. He was keenly aware of the value of first impressions. Granted, this was his second meeting with the Twi’lek, but something felt distinctly different. It had been established that she wasn’t simply a one-time acquaintance if Furion’s use of the term ‘sister’ was any indication. Either way, he was quite sure to keep his grip strong about hers, unwilling to give an impression of weakness of character or of physical strength.

 

“Thank you, by the way, for giving me the pick-up. As much as I’d enjoy living out the remainder of my life on a swamp planet…. I feel I have more to gain now that I’m off of it. Odd, I know. My only regret is that I didn’t have time to tell the glow sloths ‘goodbye.’ Odd creatures. Glowing bellies. Judgemental expressions. But quite friendly when they’ve come to realize your face isn’t food.”

 

Rambling on as he did, Vaegir came to realize a few things. He was in a good mood. It had been years since last he can remember an emotion other than anger, regret, or fear. The change, grudgingly, was likely due to Furion’s influence. It gave the firrerreo a pause once the realization hit him. Though, ever in control of his expressions and his thoughts, the conflicted feelings didn’t show upon his face.

 

“A pleasure to meet you on a more official basis. Now, tell me, what do a pair of charming young sith do with a space station at their disposal and what appears to be a good amount of free time?”

[Darth Furion]

The answer was, again, expected but what could you do? A follower was a follower. Never the less, Julio was glad the conversation had gone so smoothly for Raia's sake. The longer he could avoid growing too ferocious in her presence the longer he could keep up the guise of fatherly educator.

 

Well, my dear. What did you...

 

He cut himself off seconds before the real interruption would come. Barreling through his office doors slithered the hutt, rambling on about something to do with change and needing something to do.

 

At ease, brother. I have a guest. He said with his hands held up, as if in a passive mood to placate the rambling, almost confused and borderline aggressive Hutt. Though, under all that, let loose from those gilded cages was a bestial hunger that almost taunted Sheog to overstep just a little further. Staring the hulking slug down, Julio yet held on to his gracious smile.

 

Raia, do be a dear and find Lallu and Veagir. Tell them it is time you studied our code. I will call for you later to see what you have learned.

 

He waited for the girl to pardon herself before dropping his hands to clasp together at his waist. His ever ready position so counter intuitive to every other starting stance in organized aggression. Julio's eyes still fervently blazed as he began to speak.

 

You feel stagnant is what you feel... He spat with disgust. This need for change, this need for action is the dark side whispering in your skull reminders of just how lazy and fat you have become. He started to pace side to side across the width of the office, just in front of his desk as his eyes never left Sheog. So what? I suppose you come to me now for direction, purpose? Just like all the rest of them. Pathetic. And I had thought so highly of you, my brother. My Master of the Krath.

 

His footsteps were slow, careful and precise, like he was stalking something, but his eyes only sought to devour the very sight of this massive thing. I will grant your wish. I will give you the change you are looking for. But this mercy will not be free.

Edited May 31, 2012 by Guest

[Sheog the Mad]

The mountain of avarice winked a large, crimson eye, in the direction of Raia as she made her way from the room. He liked the look of the girl, and he fullheartedly believed that one day, her power would eclipse many of The Sith Order’s current Lords and Masters. With a slight curl of a grime-soaked lip, he listened to what The Dark Lord had to say. The man was all he had read about in the libraries, and much more powerful in person. Power was like an aura emanating off him, like the foul stench of death that rolled off a desiccated corpse in the heat of the sun. Unlike many of the Sith, Sheog had no wish to feed off the power, like a vulture, but was more akin to a bloatfly, heading to the source of the power to which within it would lay its eggs, choosing to create, instead of devour. His voice sounded soft as he spoke, slowly rising in volume like a wave about to strike a ship and drive it to the bottom of the sea

 

<>

[Darth Furion]

The Dark Lord listened intently as the Krath spoke. At first he seemed to gloss over how he was nothing like the others, not directionless and confused. Yet what did he come here for? Release from his physical bonds. A true Sith would destroy his own bonds with his own strength, but instead this one came to another for assistance. Any other time, any other Sith Julio would smack him around a bit, recite a few lines of rhetoric, and send him off to solve his own problems. But this one had a power of his own, knowledge of things Julio had never had the time to study himself. And Sheog, the clever business hutt he was, knew that.

 

At mention of this new offer gilded prisms of instinctual aggression flexed into tightened circlets of curiosity. You would give this freely, completely?

[Sheog the Mad]

A smirk passed over the Hutt’s grotesque features, as if a knife slashed across the side of bountiful, fattened slime. Knowledge, was to Julio, what food was to Sheog; the thing that drove him. Julio was his own type of insane, and Sheog liked that. Brothers in Avarice and Greed. With a hearty laugh, Sheog pulled out his canteen of expensive brandy, (taken from the Relbaquen Frontier, when Separatist Troops used the brewery as a base during the Clone Wars. This particular brand was fermented during that time, and still had a metallic, oily taste, with a quiet aftertaste of blood, due to the bodies of political prisoners being disposed of inside the containment drums.), and used it to slake a bit of his thirst.

 

The mountain of Greed slowly extended a slimy, greasy hand towards the Dark Lord of the Sith, like a stranger were to take the hand of a child, before a long walk in the park, to a van written on the side with “Free Candy,” and before the eventual Amber Alert, that would be vain. As he did so, his large nostrils flared, like those of the bloodhound that was about to stumble across a long decomposed body, as Sheog opened his sluggish lungs to draw upon the bitter taste of The Force. Letting it flow about him, it began to tear upon his mind, like a serial killer to his victims clothes, and his crimson eyes flew open incredibly wide. Within them, lay a fully engulfed with maddened flame, like a criminal burning a van full of evidence. His voice was gravelly as he spoke

 

<>

[Darth Furion]

And the walls came tumbling down. Every secondary thought parallel to true nature, every distracting vice indulged to quiet the voices, every layer of ego and psychosis built up over the years fell away with a level of control Julio wasn't even aware the Hutt could manage. There, deep within those wide, burning eyes lay the gate into this being's mind with but one of Cerberus' heads left awake to circumvent to have free reign. The madness.

 

Without thought or consideration the Dark Lord lunged in, grabbing the slug firmly by the head as it all came pouring in. Lessons, feelings, sins, words, lies, experiences. All that ever was Sheog was his to understand. Greedily he dug, ripping and tearing his way through anything of importance, disregarding the trivial. It was his, all his and there was no hesitation in it. With every bit of understanding Julio could feel the burden of knowledge weighing down on him heavier and heavier. The air got thick, the floor below him harder, the ceiling so close it threatened to collapse in on them all. It was all so much...too much.

 

No. It is not too much. Give me more. Give me all of it.

 

The deeper he went the more dangerous it became. Some thoughts didn't seem to make sense at first, until they were looked upon in a certain insane light. Puzzle pieces with torn edges, pieces missing, it was all so obscure but it didn't matter. He would make sense of it, he would understand because he wanted to, he had to. It would all be his no matter the cost.

 

Then it all was over. Snapped back like a broken rubber band Julio let go of the Hutt's head like it was made of electricity, stumbling backward into his desk.

 

But he was smiling. His eyes were glazed over, staring off into nothingness in wonderment. Yes, yes! This was what he wanted. An understanding of the soul that had felt before now such a slippery thing. Like a conduit of water, tangible but not something you could take hold of and play with. Now it all made sense. You could in fact play with it, you just had to understand how to handle it, how to cradle it and feel its form in a grander sense. This wasn't like understanding an individual mind at all. This...this was more like seeing a single snowflake in a blizzard, in all its singular uniqueness.

 

Maybe ten minutes later Julio started to come to his senses, realizing for the first time that he had been laughing, and for some reason crying. It didn't matter anymore. He could feel it all now, so much deeper than he had ever been before.

 

Yes... He said in between chuckles as he slowed his breathing, trying to calm himself down. Yes I see. Quite splendid....

[Sheog the Mad]

Tremors, like the tectonic plates of a dying world, (whose population were completely terrified at the gushes of lava, groundquakes, plagues, and their imminent death) shook Sheog’s maddened mind, as the Dark Lord tore his way into his mind. Thoughts rose unbidden to his mind, ripped from his subconscious, to rise before his eyes. Friends long dead, food eaten and enjoyed, deaths by his hand.

 

There arose the vision of a grand feast lying at a marble table before a poor family, who Sheog had rescued from a pack of Dinkos, and whom had eaten quickly, scarfing down large gulps of food, basking in the beauty of gluttony, before the master of it. Eyes narrowed, Sheog strikes them all down, all because they do not give him the courtesy of a thank you. At least they had died with food in their gut, albeit poisoned food. Still delicious though...

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

...You are the Lord of Madness, rise my apprentice. You are worthy in the eyes of the Krath Order...

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

...What were the name of that Jedi I killed? Was it Marak? Wookiee Jedi? No, no... Little Shelly, the sandle-maker's daughter? The whore of King Lycera? That’s not even a guy. Or was it... Yes! Stanley, that talking plant from Vertigo. Oh, and there was that terrorist who looked like Lando...

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

They say… That the galaxy was once immersed completely darkness, before the evolution of life-forms, the advent of sentience, and finally, of The Force, or was it with us always? So are the mysteries of the galaxy… So much lost to the shadows, to destruction, and to simple entropy. From where came Midi-chlorians? Who in the Seven Corellian Hells truly knows? Obviously they evolved with us? Or were they a gift from the hand of God himself?

 

It is said The Force was first felt upon Ossus… I believe it was first felt at the very onset of the Universe, where it all began. Perhaps, it was the spark that ignited the Big Bang, or whatever they call it now. After all, when I worked with that damnable hacker Slicer, we discovered that according to the ancient order of the Jedi, that The Force… Binds us. Connects us… And is everywhere, ready for the grasping by those who are worthy. That was on Haruun Kal, about twenty galactic standard years ago, and it was the discovery that started both of us on our path.

 

I am beginning to research the very depths of The Force… I am going to ask my father if I might once again explore the ancient places of the Galaxy. I shall go to Malachor...

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

...Ahh... Another death threat from my stalker... This time written on the back of a gerbil, in what appears to be the blood of a Jawa. Oh, and he stuffed the Gerbil with Caderzing Chocolate. He at least has some taste. Interesting... Perhaps I should give this Alex another look...

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

With a roar, Sheog ripped himself back to the real world, with a cry reminiscent of beached whale. His head ached far more than it had ever had before, even when he had been hit with lightning whilst on Malastare. He felt a bit violated, a crime for which he had slain Uriel Stonedog, when he had assaulted his guests on Hoth. Shaking with adrenaline, the Lord of Avarice pulled himself up to his full height, dwarfing the Dark Lord before him, a grin spreading over his pallor features, as his madness began to feed upon the pain, like ravenous wolves, tearing into a lost child. He held up his flask, offering it to the Dark Lord.

 

<>

[Raia Montar]

"You know nothing of my pain, little girl," he snapped back at her, suddenly flaring with emotion for the briefest of periods before he continued. "Even my daughter does not know of my true suffering, not yet. But you both will in your own time, and I must say I am most interested in how you handle it. Will you see it for the transitory thing it is, or will you crush under a galaxy's weight?"

 

Raia considered this silently for a moment, still carefully trying to see her course as it now lay before her, but finding nothing coming to mind as she was still trying to reorient herself to this new and dangerous landscape. After a few moments she gave up and shifted her focus back to him.

 

His eyes seemed to look right through her as though he were seeing something beyond her, but whether it was something through time and space or just elsewhere on the station, she wasn't about to disturb him. A heartbeat later, though, a soft and staccatoed noise came from him, and it took her a moment to place it as a chuckle as his focus on her returned. "Worry not. I gain nothing watching you flounder with more than you can handle. Everything I do, everything I teach you will be at a level you can attain, even if your limited concept of self excellence casts shadows of doubt over you. Remember that, and I mean really accept that and you will be able to push yourself far beyond anything you ever thought attainable."

 

Raia's mind was still reeling and trying to process so much information at once that she couldn't begin to formulate an acceptable response. She'd just begun to open her mouth when the Dark Lord's eyes darted to the door behind her and he waived his hand as though casually batting away a gnat. "Forgive me, my dear, but I have another guest. Please do sit quietly while we chat, but keep your eyes and ears keen to the conversation. There will be a test afterward."

 

So this was to be her first lesson then, though it didn't seem like it, not by a long shot. She couldn't keep from turning her head curiously as another of the red-clad figures opened the large wooden door to admit a...what was he?

 

The tall man's blue skin contrasted sharply with his red eyes, and dark black hair, and she forced herself not to stare as he took the seat next to her as Furion had instructed, his voice, now in Basic, drawing her attention once more. She found it to be quite disconcerting to be this close so many magic-using males, but she didn't let that stop her from observing as instructed, as the acolyte knelt at the Dark Lord's feet.

 

As Master Furion took his offered hand, and after a brief moment the acolyte rose and left without so much as a word as the Dark Lord sat pensively behind his desk for a few moments, and the three of them sat in silence, Raia occasionally casting her glance to the side so she could see the strange blue man. Finally, the Master of the Sith leaned forward and spoke in what she was nearly certain wasn't entirely Basic. "What exactly are you offering me, Lord Nokttin'okr'tihnt?"

 

Raia looked from one to the other, confused and curious, since no words had been exchanged since the strange pair had entered the room, but kept questions quiet as instructed.

 

"I am offering you myself, mi'lord. Everything I have, everything I do, I can do on your command. I will be your most loyal servant, and prove myself the greatest asset to your strength." His words reminded Raia of the swearing in of a new ruling elder. In much the same way the other caste heads would pledge their skill and loyalty to her and to the clan's well being, when a new leader was chosen.

 

Maybe things, aren't really that different here, She thought to herself, for a moment allowing herself the luxury of the delusion. She watched for Julio's reaction, noting the same approving grin that he'd given her when she first entered the room. She looked again, it was close, but not quite the same. It was more of an expression of indulgence rather than approval, and the next words out of the Dark Lord's mouth confirmed it.

 

"Yes...I expect as much. But there is a problem with that. One you share with many of your brothers and sisters, no doubt. You are willing to give your all to the Dark Lord of the Sith, but I do not give a shit about your hierarchical posturing."

 

His frankness and aplomb struck a curious chord within her, and as he indulged himself in a spice stick, Raia tuned in further, not wanting to miss anything that she was to learn. The smoke smelled spicy and sweet all at the same time and reminded Raia of the herbs that were used in healing and rituals back in the forests of Dathomir. "You can swear to Dark Lords until this galaxy collapses in on itself," he snapped derisively, pausing for a moment. "No, what I want is for you to fundamentally understand that it is I and none other than holds your reins. That you carry out my orders like they are from the mouth of Darkness itself and know that if you do not suffering will be the only future you have left. You will do this until the day you are strong enough to stand before as an individual and strike me down to take my place. Until that day, everything you have I will give you. Everything you want will be mine to give. All you have to do is prove to me you want it. Is that understood?" As he spoke his voice grew into a crescendo and a rebuke against the other Sith who obediently took the verbal blow.

 

It was only then that Raia began to understand some of what she had to learn and practice in order to reach that wider world. Furion had said she was to be one of his students, but in that regard she was expected to be completely obedient and to disobey him meant severe punishment. The second thing that struck her, however, was the second half of the admonishment. Was he saying that she, too, was to grow strong enough to take him down one day? Raia struggled to comprehend what that meant, or would mean some day. Was that also what Rose had been trying to explain to her in the medical bay when she'd asked for the girl's help? Surely she'd misheard or mistranslated something that had been said. The blue man's words took that thought right out of her head as he confirmed that she'd understood every word.

 

"I swear to you, my better, Julio Wartide, Dark Lord of the Sith, my servitude and respect. I swear to come when beckoned, kill when ordered, and fight in your name until such a time that I can make the demand for your title and win it from you."

 

Raia's heart sank. More deaths, she felt as though she could already see them coming. Mentally she slapped herself, stopping the thought before it could progress further into guilt. He'd said it himself, those that had died that day were put in each other's way by his design alone. The lesson was clear as well, victory or death and suffering. She knew that she had to prove herself useful, and continuing down the pity and guilt path was going to get her killed. Julio Wartide, The Dark Lord, or whatever name applied to him, didn't strike her as the sort to tolerate self-pity for long.

 

"Words," came his reply along with that same self-sure smile. "Let us see what your actions say." The dark man rose from his chair and remarked, "Remind me, what good is a dead Sith? " he remarked as he casually circled to the front of his desk. Raia wasn't sure why the other man didn't respond, but Furion didn't wait for him to answer. "You can forget about serving the Order because frankly, I am the Order. They all exist to serve me and through me grow themselves, so they in turn help themselves by helping me. You help neither me, nor yourself by presenting yourself weaponless. Forget about Jedi, even amidst your own kind you know full well you are in danger. Walking around without so much as a lightsaber is a declaration of weakness, no? So, I think it would be best if you brandished something before going anywhere else."

 

The other man's attempts to gain breath were now evident to the young girl whose eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them, her mind screaming at her to do something to help the choking man, but her instincts held her rooted to the spot as he turned an ashen sickly grayish blue color that, despite her lack of knowledge regarding his species physiology, was not an improvement over his previous state.

 

The Dark Lord neared the man, whispering something she couldn't hear in his ear before presenting him with a dagger. "This is the last free thing you will ever get from me." What ever had held the man, and she was willing to bet it had been the Dark Lord's magic at work, released and Julio turned his back on the man and issued his final instructions for the meeting. "You will want to find Yue in the prison block. You two will be working together on your studies in alchemy until the time is right. Then I will have other work for you. If there is nothing else, you are dismissed."

 

Drenched in sweat the man somehow managed to stand before the man that had moments before been threatening his life, and offer a supplicant bow before departing. "I appreciate the opportunity to serve, mi'lord."

 

As soon as he was far enough away Julio turned back to her, "Well, my dear. What did you..." his voice cut off abruptly as another, the large sluggish mass she'd seen before poured himself into the room murmuring some sort of oddly discordant and melodic gibberish that Raia couldn't possibly begin to untangle in to anything resembling sensical words. Immediately she closed her mouth as the Dark Lord raised his hand and spoke, "At ease, brother. I have a guest."

 

The dark-haired girl sat quietly for a moment, unsure of what to do, and, as though sensing this, Furion provided the guidance that she needed. "Raia, do be a dear and find Lallu and Veagir. Tell them it is time you studied our code. I will call for you later to see what you have learned."

 

Raia didn't have any idea who these people were that she was supposed to find, but she knew enough to follow his orders anyway with a quiet, "Yes, Master," she left the room, giving the hulking slug as wide a berth as possible as she left the study. His wink unsettled her, and she did her best not to let on as she escaped into the dimness of the hallway, leaving the two powerful Sith to their diatribe as she made her way back to the ballroom and the still steaming feast.

 

Once more bloodshed had broken out in the exquisitely decorated room as two combatants clashed with one another, leaving destruction in their wake. She recognized one of them as the man that had spoken to her just after her victory, who was indeed proving to be a violent and duplicitous fellow as the two of them crashed about the room.

 

Once more, few, if any, were paying them much heed to the fray.

 

Is this the way of the Sith? To become so desensitized to violence that it merely fades to background noise?

 

Possibly. Though, you'll have to get used to it, we both know that you'll likely have to kill again. Furion pretty much said so.

 

But I don't want to become a murdering monster.

 

It's this or the door to space, and we both know that you can't even begin to know how to open it. Heck you don't even know it's rightful name!

 

Shut it.

 

You know I'm right...

 

As much as she hated her inner voice, she knew it was right and she didn't feel up to holding her breath in space. She was going to have to adapt or perish.

 

She picked a few pieces of what looked like some sort of meat, very savory and as tender as a young verne's back-strap, and nibbled on them, her appetite finally returning. Feeling a bit better she walked over to one of the female acolytes who bowed slightly at her approach. Unsure of what to do, Raia bowed back, but lower, remembering how the blue man had bowed low to Furion when he left. Suddenly a small jolt of panic jolted through her, should she have bowed to Furion and his guest when she left? He did seem to be one for proper respect and protocol, and she sincerely hoped that she hadn't offended him or the slug creature.

 

Awkwardly, the red-robed woman bowed back further in response, so, naturally Raia felt that she had to do the same, only this time her newly-regrown ribs protested causing her to gasp in pain.

 

Casting about a furtive glance, as though she were afraid of some sort of punishment for speaking out of turn, she reached out towards the dark-haired girl and whispered, "Mistress, please forgive me, but are you okay? I don't know what game you're playing, but perhaps we should get you to the medical bay so you don't hurt yourself further...o-or we could continue if you'd like..."

 

Raia held a hand up to stop her, noticing that she shied quickly away, "I'm not a mistress, just a...well I don't know...apprentice, I guess. I think that's what Master Furion said I was...wait, what is it?"

 

The woman turned noticeably paler, not only had she spoken out of turn, she'd done it to one of the Dark Lord's students! "F-forgive me! Please! I meant no disrespect!"

 

Raia motioned for the woman to calm down, still not quite sure what she was doing to get this reaction out of her. "I'm fine, you're okay, no harm done. I'm sorry to ask this, but do you know who Lallu or Vaegir is?"

 

The red-haired woman looked around again, but this time in search of the people that the girl had mentioned, determined to make amends for any slight that had been given. She didn't recognize the name of Vaegir, but she knew who Lallu was and was determined to help this apprentice find who she was looking for as quickly as possible. Luckily, it didn't take long to find the uniquely beautiful ebon-skinned Twi'lek standing amidst the still-gathered Sith. "You can find Mistress Lallu over there speaking with the golden toned man, can you see them miss?"

 

Raia nodded and the woman stepped back into her place near the wall, their odd conversation apparently finished. "Thanks..."

 

For a moment she hesitated again, unsure whether or not it would be a good idea to approach them, but she thought again on what she'd just witnessed in Furion's office and thought it would be best to do as he said. Surely if they protested, then they would be the ones at fault, or did it work like that? Somehow she didn't think so.

 

Quietly, but openly, she approached the duo, offering a smile to the slightly more familiar Twi'lek, but stood politely waiting until there was a break in the conversation before cautiously interjecting in her lilting accent "I am sorry to interrupt, but I was sent to speak to Lallu and Vaegir by the Dark Lord. I am Raia Selik."

 

It was her first time initiating a conversation with any of the Sith that she hadn't directly encountered before, and a part of her felt proud that she'd overcome that fear and only hoped that the step out wouldn't get her head lobbed off.

[Tobias Vos]

(3 Day.)

 

Lucifer looked stunned after getting into his attack stance. Something was defiantly off about the man. Then with Sooba launching at him, it took him off his feet and down onto the ground. Once again Tobias looked over his fallen prey. Sooba stood on top of the man for a moment, growling. Taking a breath and collecting himself, he deactivated the lightsaber and clipped it to his belt.

 

Just another day in the training yard. Tobias kept telling himself, trying to not get excited or giddy about his new title.

 

He collected his breath and walked over to Lucifer's body. The man still was breathing. Not awake, but still alive. Good- He could control his anger and keep it in check.The fight didn't go as barbaric as it should have, but Tobias was alright with that. Grabbing the body, he threw it up into his shoulders and walked towards the Dark Lord's chambers.

 

Tobias hadn't even considered a name yet- he was still on the trail for his first mission. But damn it! After three years of hard work, he was finally a Sith Lord. Well- As soon as Furion was informed of the outcome of the duel. Tobias was unsure of the fate that awaited both of the Kiffars. Lucifer had maimed and killed some Sith Slaves in his initial charge. But Furion was a mysterious one, they would find out soon enough. But still, he had progressed even further.

 

He dumped Lucifer's body outside of the Dark Lords office. No reason to disturb the Overlord, Tobias could feel Sheog in the room. Obviously more important matters than Vos. He huffed at the slumped over body of Lucifer, then went to the Hanger where the Warriors were called to earlier. Sooba followed him like a loyal beast.

[Keenava Dira]

“Vaegir Renor, though I would have thought Furion gave you my name before he sent you to fetch me.” Lallu heard the man in echoing jolts to her head. She was still swimming in the aftershock of her emotional typhoon, but blood was once again rushing to her head and she could think without the pounding of her heart to keep her company.

 

“Names have power.” Lallu said, her ruby red eyes digging their way through Vaegir’s open expression. There was very little trace of the man she found on Dagobah left in his body language and yet oddly enough the bestial flame was still hidden deep behind Vaegir’s multicolored eyes. It was a spectacle, watching the civil composition wrestle with what seemed like the man’s baser instincts, but Lallu knew a similar struggle. Or at least she did, years ago. “That power grants advantage, or power over another individual whether that individual knows it or not. It can be used in many different ways and I would take the time to describe it to you, but I figure you’ll learn on your own. I gave you my name, because I don’t fear death and that power means little to me. As to yours, knowing it wasn’t necessary for my job, thus it was not given to me.”

 

Lallu paused for a moment, struggling against the mangled fabric clinging to her legs. The dress was in tatters and wouldn’t serve much purpose eventually but she didn’t really have much choice. She had to make it work for now or she would be quite the life of the party while she searched for other clothing.

“Thank you, by the way, for giving me the pick-up. As much as I’d enjoy living out the remainder of my life on a swamp planet, I feel I have more to gain now that I’m off of it. Odd, I know. My only regret is that I didn’t have time to tell the glow sloths ‘goodbye.’ Odd creatures; glowing bellies; judgmental expressions, but quite friendly when they’ve come to realize your face isn’t food.”

 

Lallu grinned and laughed a little. The indentations above her eyes, where most would expect eyebrows to be, inclined one over the other and then leveled themselves out. “Sounds neat, sorry I had to rip you away from a life of such excitement.”

Glowing bellies popped into Lallu’s mind and she speculated what it would have been like to have a glowing belly. The curiosity was enough to conjure an image, but she wasn’t able to develop the image before Vaegir continued his introduction.

“A pleasure it is, to meet you on a more official basis. Now tell me, what do a pair of charming young Sith do with a space station at their disposal and what appears to be a good amount of free time?”

 

“Well,” Lallu started, intensifying her smile. She began ripping pieces of her dress more and more until the glittering red fabric was nothing but a revealing top and a short, but flowing skirt. Acolytes turned to leer at Lallu as she carried on, but the swarms of eyes were like the buzzing of gnats to her. She was used to it. “I need my training clothes for starters. It won’t be long before this dress is nothing but a handful of seams clinging on for-”

 

"I am sorry to interrupt, but I was sent to speak to Lallu and Vaegir by the Dark Lord. I am Raia Selik."

 

Lallu stopped mid movement and looked toward the little dark haired girl. Her pleasant expression turned to one of confusion and then one of irritation, but when the identity of the small girl was revealed, Lallu’s smile returned. “Oh, well if it isn’t Rose’s little friend. Yes I am Lallu and this is Vaegir; a convenience that you caught us both together, but considering the Dark Lord, he would know.”

 

Lallu could see through the girl’s hesitation wrought in each movement and something about her seemed conflicted. Lallu knelt to the girl’s level, causing the mangled hem of her dress to rip even more and took a minute to truly look at Raia. “I heard you won your battle. I also heard that you didn’t make it out without your own share of wounds. Are you alright?”

[Rezjal-el]

“Names have power.” That they do. Such a concept was nothing new to the young man whose people rarely if ever gave their true names to anyone. Llalu was preaching to the choir, as it were. Vaegir’s name, his true name, was the only possession he had left.

 

“Sounds neat, sorry I had to rip you away from a life of such excitement.”

 

“Well, it wasn’t as exciting for the first year. But, when you spend enough time alone… then the voices start to kick in and you’re never alone again. They say funny things from time to time. Tell you stories. Lead you around the wilds in search of some sort of hidden transmitter or other way off the planet. One time, there was even a tale of a cache of old nerf hides. Trust me, it’s best not to believe such stories. Their sources aren't the most credible.”

 

All the while the firrerreo kept a straight face, though he did let a slight, twisted sort of grin worm its way along his lips.

 

“I need my training clothes for starters. It won’t be long before this dress is nothing but a handful of seams clinging on for-”

 

“I’m sure there are worse things than...”

"I am sorry to interrupt, but I was sent to speak to Lallu and Vaegir by the Dark Lord. I am Raia Selik."

 

Vaegir paused, turning to acknowledge the newcomer before he can finish whatever remark he had in mind. Granted, it’s not as though he was about to say anything lewd, but it may have been borderline, so in a way, this Raia person may have done him a favor.

 

“Yes, that would be us, indeed. It’s nice to meet you, Raia. I see the Sith have welcomed you in typical Sith fashion” he said in regard to the bloody battles that so many new apprentices had to participate in.

 

He put on a friendly face, that odd, twisting grin giving way to one that seemed far more natural and far less mad.

[Darth Furion]

The maniacal glaze in the Dark Lord's eyes would have made all sane members of society cower. There was something in the way he stared without really looking that anything that screamed unhinged. At first his gaze shifted to the large Hutt with a most curious look, as if the words didn't seem to make any sense. But when the flask was offered up to him his eyes widened and his smile grew outlandishly like a child offered candy. Jealously he whisked the small metal container from the slimy hand and wasted no time tilting it to his lips. In a matter of a few graceless gulps the flask hung empty in his hands, dark amber liquor dripping carelessly from the corners of his mouth.

 

More. He wanted more, but not just more liquor. He wanted more of everything, anything that would sate this unquenchable urge at the pit of his soul. This wasn't unlike the hunger he had always known. In fact, it wasn't anywhere near that all consuming fire in his heart, but whereas before he had delved deep into the mad mind of this Hutt and could reign in that feeling for the higher standing of necessity, now every petty urge screamed in his skull like an addiction. He wanted eat whatever he wanted, to drink until he blacked out, to take every dissociative drug he could find, to screw everything with a slit he could find, to kill every sad pathetic being that cowered before him. Every indulgence sat at his fingertips, and he wanted them all.

 

No. NO! NO! He screamed out loud at no one but himself. The room itself seemed to shudder at the cry of contrition. Books fell off their shelves, the small hanging light in the center of the room slowly rocked back and forth. This wasn't him, this was that vile slug. It was too much, too fast. That god damned...

 

A convulsion rocked him and he doubled over, back at full height in a flash. Before he knew what he was doing Julio was lashing out at the room itself, trying at all cost to let loose this fury on anything but the only other soul in this room with him. With a thunderous crack the large stone tablet composing his desk top behind him split in twain, the once sturdy wooden chairs in front of it crushed to kindling. Shelves ripped from the wall, lights exploded from their plugs, papers and whole books seemed to fly across the room.

 

Just let it out, burn it out, rage it out...

 

When there was nothing left whole in his study Julio finally opened his eyes again upon Sheog, this time with a furious clarity and intent that could not be mistaken. With his heart and soul Julio wanted nothing more in that moment than to kill the mad hutt. But instead he just stood there, slowly replacing his hands to clasp before him as he took calm, deep breaths. Steadily Julio Furion found himself again.

 

Thank you for the drink, Master Sheog. He said politely with his soft, genuine smile seen on him a thousand times. Now then, you wanted a new body was it? Shall we proceed to laboratory six? I have been holding a specimen there to join my personal staff, but I think it will suit you just fine.

 

((Apologies, but I'd like to take this in steps. This post would have been too huge to do at once.))

((Tobias technically wins. I do not really approve, but there's nothing I can do about it. Lucifer is thus an apprentice, Tobias thus a Lord. Both of you report to HJP))

[Sheog the Mad]

The storms, so full of madness, that had for so long beat against their confines, and blotted out the sunshine of true thought, were beginning to calm. The veil of insanity, which had bound him within madness, separating him from the truth of the Living Force, had been torn. The Mountain of Avarice and Gluttony, was no longer constrained by the Cardinal Sins through which he had once viewed The Force. He was free of mind, but not of body. The massive Hutt smiled broadly, a twisted, disgusting thing for one to witness, as he observed the Dark Lord of the Sith, become overrun, for but a moment, by insatiable hunger and greed.

 

As had he, the Dark Lord began the thrashings of madness, reaching out through The Force, to strike down inanimate objects, in blindness, and hate. Reaching down to his core, Sheog brought forth a stream of Dark Side energy, like diverting a river’s flow, and began to weave The Force about himself, creating a shield through which no strike which The Dark Lord sent his direction could pass. Nothing was left whole, as was the consequence of madness, and overreaching sin. Such was the price. Sin let loose with abandon, destroyed all along its path. The darkness was fading from his mind, and with it, so fell the scales from his crimson eyes. Reaching out with The Force, he laid a steadying hand upon the shoulder of the Dark Lord, as the man began to draw himself from the madness. In response to his query, the overlarge hut answered in a rumbling voice, like distant thunder, a hint of sadness buried within.

 

<>

[Keenava Dira]

Lallu took a moment longer to look at Raia before realizing the absence of clothing was causing a distinct chill to crawl up her spine. She didn't notice it at first, but with her knees even closer to the cold metal floor, she could feel the absence of heat radiate toward her and sheath her body in tingling sensations.

 

With the girl's hesitation, the tingling sensations were mounting and before Raia could answer her question, Lallu had already gotten back to her feet and was grabbing at her sides, clinging to her own body in futile attempts at warming herself. "Might we continue this conversation as we walk? I need more clothing."

 

Whether or not they agreed, the black Twi'lek's freezing skin led her past acolytes and Sith alike. She was hypnotized by the thought of warmth and relief so she didn't really pay too much heed when it came to the lecherous glances of her peers. Not that she would react anyway. Their eyes reflected weakness and an absence of willpower that was fitting for their level of intelligence. Their ignorance made them worth nothing and as such they barely even registered to her. The people around her faded into the background. The only trials before her, were the cold floor beneath her bare feet and the several flights of stairs she had between her and her training clothes.

 

She stopped at the foot of the flight of steps to the next floor and gathered her courage. She wasn't prepared for the icy greeting that plowed into her face. Each step magnified the feeling more than the last and it almost seemed like each strip of metal was robbing the feeling from her feet and reminding her that she had no way of getting it back. It was the only way to get what she wanted though, so she pushed on. Lallu thought of warmer places, she rubbed her hands together and tried every method to deprive the temperature from besting her, but she was losing, badly. Specters danced about her mind, taunting her for losing her shoes and tearing her dress, but they were sputtering in the bright euphoria that Lallu still felt, lingering deep inside her. The warmth of those thoughts and feelings was buried, but still provided the only warmth she needed to push on. She amplified the heat deep within her to banish the negative presence and pushed herself, breaking through the limits of each obstacle.

 

Reaching the top of the steps was something of a significant goal or achievement to her. Lallu's heart swelled even more as she made the next flight of stairs with little issue and before she knew it, she was at her bunk and opening her footlocker.

[Darth Furion]

Oh, if you only knew.

 

Seething fury slid past the wretched soul in a staccato temperance, dipping between the path and madness betwixt observable realities. What was this? Steps fell upon forgiving ground, making it oh so sweetly easy to flow ever forward. Why does this make so much sense? All conscious thought seemed to wane with progression through the narrow path back to his temple, certainty polishing all the marring concern and faithlessness scuffing the mind of late. Was this what was missing all along? An insane, baseless sense of rightness to blind one's ego to self doubt. Did it even matter? There was truth to this lie, an obscurity to it that made too much sense to question anymore. Why would he? Now all that was left was the fire.

 

Everything was perfect now. Before where he stood in a blizzard of collected consciousness and pick out single snowflake thoughts, he now could feel how the very Force itself flowed through it all as one body. Just tides and eddies in the ocean tearing at one another. His own flow now was effortless, in and out through the hallways with destination firm in his grasp. The lab came upon them in what felt like no time at all. As prepared none other worked this wing for the time being, tightly secured for the private usage of the Dark Lord.

 

As they passed the door, the room sat dimly lit with a lone lamp glaring white light upon a white sheet covering a body. The only terminals on were the few low beeping monitors surrounding the back of the room monitoring the thing under the veil.

 

Brother, before we begin I must ask. Julio stopped steady stride in an quick turnabout, wide smiled and bright eyed as he looked up at the tall Hutt. Do you know what you did wrong?

 

He let the moment linger, unmoving and soft in posture as if he may possibly give Sheog a chance to answer what was probably a rhetorical question. You made yourself weak. You gambled instead of ensuring victory. You see, you paid me in advance. You have given me all you could possibly offer, and now what use do I have of you? Not only have you eliminated any great advantage you ever had on me, but you have simultaneously elevated me in the same breath. Do not misunderstand me, my friend. I am most gracious for your gift, I would not have been wise to refuse it. Yet we must take pause to admit, it was very foolish of you. A very costly mistake, indeed, because now we get to do this the hard way.

 

Where now anesthesia would normally get applied, and heavily, to the patient, Sheog found himself wreathed in fire at the snap of the Dark Lord's fingers. Not three feet away Julio stood, that bemused smile of his turned wolfish as his shadow crept its way through the flailing Hutt. The Krath's mind quaked in frenzy, ready at any moment to disconnect when it all became too much, but that would never happen. Julio slowly tilted his head to the side as he stared deeper into the living pyre, fighting to keep the Hutt's mind awake through the intensifying flame. Shock would never come to whisk him away from the pain, from the inability to even breath the superheated air around you to even let out an agonizing scream. From head to tail Sheog roasted alive, staked to consciousness like a cross.

 

No, no no, my brother. Embrace it. Grow with it. You must pass every trial in your path if you ever want to escape. This whisper skittered through the Sith's skull as his body started to fall off in flaming chunks, words impossibly louder in his mind than the pain for just the briefest of seconds. More suffering, more pain, the Lord of Greed should have it all. So much, so fast, he should know what Julio had to survive just moments before. Teetering on the brink, the mind of the Hutt was lost utterly to the pain, perfectly so as to properly carve out whole. The fire had burned away the defenses, even past the madness into a bottomless pit of torture. When the jagged edges of consciousness were sanded smooth it fell free from the flaming corpse and fit neatly into a pocket of Julio's mind, tucked away and held tightly in place with great concentration for the short seconds before the wretched thing's soul fell not far behind.

 

Slowly, too, did the soul break away. The silken threads tying it to this world severed when the will fell away, and now it threatened to break freely into the vast oneness of the Force. But before it could even break free from the body Julio was already spinning threads around it, masterfully stitching the mind and the soul together with the raw fabric of the Force. Quickly, as he held on to two thirds of Sheog the Mad, Julio sprang to the back of the room. The body under the cloth had no mind to speak of, wiped away to suite a blank test subject, yet the soul of the man still remained. Excellent. That soul served to be the very thing that tied Sheog to this new body, a small part of the bigger Force woven to comprise this new creature.

 

There was something inherently wrong in the act, however. The soul of the man who previously inhabited the body marred the final product, left an abhorrent black stain on the already wretched soul. Any who looked upon him with the Force would see him as a the ragdoll thing he was, stitched together of various parts. No matter.

 

With but a thought the door opened and in walked four red acolytes. They flanked just inside the door and awaited orders. As they waited, though, Julio turned to the now smoldering carcase. The ventilation fans now sounded blaring without the loud crackling and popping of the blaze. As he crouched down to begin sifting through the gooey remains with his gloved hand, he spoke out in just above a whisper. Take the subject to destination zero. Discretion must be absolute.

 

As one the four red ones nodded and ushered past him to begin transporting the body, but Julio paid him no heed. He found his prize, the massive heart of a Hutt, charred like volcanic rock on the outside. In a heave he swept the heavy thing under his arm and strolled out, two acolytes waiting for him on either side of the door.

 

"Master, an acolyte on Nar Shaddaa reports receiving an encoded communication on one of your old comms. Former Grandmaster Armiena Draygo Darkfire wants to meet with you about some urgent business."

 

Ah, yes yes. He said as if expecting the message. Tell that acolyte to reply simply 'Tatooine, Mos Eisley.' Then order him to destroy that comm and relocate on planet. He may be compromised. Have a team watching him.

 

"Yes, master." And they, too, nodded and walked on.

[Qaela]

Qaela remained in her own mind, dealing with her demons and faults. Why did people live in this galaxy? What was the point but eternal suffering and pain? She had never thought that she would have anything but that and was content. Then she had met Ca'Aran and dared to dream for more. That dream had been shattered because of her own weakness and rage. Now, she was left with the question: why continue on? What in this Galaxy was worth living for?

 

She didn't know how much time passed, but at some point, she felt a stirring. Somewhere, deep within her, she felt something diminish. It took a few minutes to remember the Sith Lord she had saved at Haphaestus' orders back in the Sith Temple. He had been fighting someone and suddenly faded, not dead, but close. While she was not surprised, it was something to break up her monotony. Death and strife were everywhere here, no matter what Furion said.

 

She bestirred herself, got cleaned up, and outfitted herself in her weapons and robes. She had no armor, but she had been raised with nothing but light leather armor designed mostly to protect her from sharp rocks while climbing and tumbling. Only a fool would walk the halls of a Sith facility without weapons, so she brought her lightsaber and her Force empowered wooden knife, but nothing else. When she was ready, she stepped out of the quarters she had been staying in and into the station.

 

She could sense the one that defeated Lucifer, but just barely. Combat always left a mark no matter how hardened someone was and she would find it out of curiosity if nothing else. Defeating any Sith took strength and she could appreciate strength, but she was even more curious as to why this person had defeated Lucifer. Why did this person seek out another to destroy him? Was Lucifer a threat? Did he seek to try to claim what was this person's? She didn't know but she wanted to, so she sought them out and didn't bother hiding that she was doing so.

[Tobias Vos]

Tobias and Sooba walked into the hanger. Everyone around them was doing their own thing. There was no real organization, just a few Sith Warriors chilling out. Quite a few of them looked at the bloodied kiffar that walked by. Tobias didn't acknowledge the glances. He could feel the eyes try to penetrate his defense. For now Tobias would just ignore them, they all had their little tasks. His was to find a mirror and a sink to tend to some First Aid. Couldn't just walk around with dried blood on his face all day.

 

Keeping within earshot of the gang, he found a canteen and a rag. Sitting down on a crate, he dumped the water into a bucket. Dabbing the cloth, he saw that half of his ear was gone, and his skin was scorched pretty well. All was fair, as Tobias left Lucifer with scars last time. This one on Tobias's face would be a doozie. Exhaling, he continued to wipe the sweat and blood off of his face.

 

He didn't know if it was a gut feeling or such, but he thought he felt someone looking for him. Tobias wasn't going anywhere. He was taking a breather, waiting for orders from whomever summoned the Warrior Cast into the hanger.

[Qaela]

Qaela's search eventually took her to some sort of hanger where many other Sith were. Though, "many" was a relative word. Back at the Sith Temple on Coruscant, there had been hundreds of Sith all over the place. Now, there were just a handful of dozens left. She didn't know whether she should be pleased or dismayed at that. Having hordes of Sith was always a risk due to their violent and self destructive nature, but she also didn't want to live in a Galaxy dominated by the Jedi because that would make things that much more unsafe for her and her kind.

 

She hesitated just a moment before entering the hangar. Being dressed in a simple black combat bodysuit didn't draw as much attention as her traditional attire from Dathomir would have, so she wasn't too out of place. She had been around the Sith enough to know how to fit in to all except those focusing on her, so she didn't get too many stares. She had initially worried that it would be hard to figure out who was the one who defeated Lucifer among such a crowd, but it turned out she didn't need to use the Force to narrow it down because her eyes were more than enough.

 

A bloodied man was sitting away from the others with some sort of being stalking nearby. For a second, she wondered if it was some sort of sentient species she hadn't yet encountered, but a quick probing in the Force disproved that notion. That was curious because she hadn't seen any animals on the station and didn't know Sith to keep pets or familiars. It was a very Dathomiri trait.

 

She approached him openly and gave him a quick appraisal. "You are wounded," she stated neutrally. The wounds didn't seem to be life threatening, but they were enough to serve as a distraction and potentially weaken him should one of his Sith brothers attack. She knew from personal experience that showing weakness to any Sith was very dangerous and had the scars to prove it.

 

She was no Sith. Among the Nightsisters, it was understood that sometimes, it was better to strengthen a temporarily weak clan member so that all could be strengthened. While they could be brutal when needed, they also understood clan loyalty and that eliminating those who were only momentarily in help only caused a permanent weakness. It was better to offer help when one could so that the other would help them when they needed it. Allies were always valuable, that was why she had chosen to bond with Lucifer. It had been her hope that should she ever be in a weak situation, he would be there to help her as she had him. This man seemed to have beaten him and proved himself stronger. Stronger men made better allies.

 

She softened her voice and said, "This was no training accident, I can almost smell the scent of battle on you. How did you come to be wounded in such a manner?" she asked.

[Nokrt]

Nokrt was displeased that the man he had greeted refused to greet him back, perhaps he had turned to stone in the wake of everything occuring on this station, the Chiss was unsure, but he ushered the still body of Yue and his servant outside of the door to the prisons and slammed it shut. It was displeasing to be so held up from working, from training himself in the Dark Side of the Force, from mastering the Krath arts he had been advised he was suited for so long ago by Master Dagon. This time, his success would turn heads, this time, his accomplishments and even his failures would still be volatile enough to aid the Sith back to inummerable power that they had never known. The Chiss had nearly been a Sith Master before, and he would not lose the opportunity to become one now.

 

Nokrt stepped around the alchemy lab and was impressed by the stores that it held. Plenty of crystals, venoms, entrails and the various other ingredients Krath have used to create the fearsome weapons, armors, and creations in the past. The Chiss could barely wait to see how he could go ahead and use these items to amplify his skills and the skills of the Sith Order, how he could make his foes on one stab of his blade be infected with a poison that would kill them regardless of if he stuck around to fight or not, to create monsters to unleash against the foes of the Order.

 

Creations were not the only power the Sith Lord desired to make his own, commanding the power of the Force to manipulate the environment, becoming more pronounced in his skill of Geomancy, or identifying the elements and arranging the Force in ways to recreate them, sending the powers of Fire, Lightning, Ice and the like against his foes giving the Sith the upperhand in any battle he participated in. The Chiss could hardly wait to begin, to show the galaxy his prowess, to defeat Furion as he had so challenged Nokrt to do.

 

Then he looked down at his CEDF garb, his lack of a lightsaber, his lack of his poisoned weapons, he was ill equipped to be a master at the present, and the creation of his items he required would be necessary for him to even begin to expand his knowledge of the Sith's Krath Arts. Annoyed with his lack of everything, the Sith knew what he needed first. A Lightsaber, it was the tool of a Sith, something, even if he wasn't fond of it, was a status symbol of him being a part of the order.

 

Nokrt had quite a bit of experience creating lightsaber crystals, as he was instructed by Zadkiel all those years ago, creation of a crystal powerful enough to benefit the force user who was using it would require unrestricted emotion to be poured into the crystal, forging it to be a true partner to the Sith who made it. The Chiss had not forgotten, but he had learned to control his emotions so now he wasn't causing outbursts at every available opportunity, but this would require hatred and infusion of the Dark Side unlike anything the Sith Lord had done in nearly half a decade.

 

Turning on his heel and facing the prison block on the opposite side of the wall from the ingredients and saw cages and prison bars filled with various things from Vornskrs to Calamarians. The Sith knew what he would need to do, he would need to let go, and gather the Dark Side to him once more. Nokrt closed his eyes and thought of the sins he so enjoyed, of the carnal pleasures he had, the people he gored, murdered, ate. He thought of the feeling of hot thick pools of blood trickling down his face. He desired it again, to be coated and drenched. To have the only part of his body not be drenched in the dark deep red of life would be his luminescent red eyes.

 

The Dark Side rushed to his call and the doors off one of the cages holding a young human woman burst open and the Sith rushed inside with her, pressing his hand to her throat while the punch dagger in his hand drove deep into her side. As she gasped for air, the Sith's hand grabbed tighter and moved violently to the left, snapping the helpless woman's neck. Removing his hand the Sith took a large bite out if her neck and blood exploded from it, covering the Sith Lord's face and splashing all over his robes.

 

Finally feeling submerged in the Dark Side once more, the Sith Lord could feel another life waning in the abdomen of the Woman. Using the Force, the Sith crushed the woman's feeble and weak spawn, and swept her aside with ease as he made his way to the furnace, pulling ingredients down from the shelves as he made his way, and throwing them all in without moving a muscle on his body.

 

The fires were roaring and the Sith focused his malice and commanded the Force to carry it toward the furnace itself, imbuing each crystal with the Dark Side, with the malice of a Sith who had been blocked on his way to mastery who had been genetically modified, who had been killed by two former Emperors, his hatred was strong, his malice was stoic. He wanted to be superior to all who came before him, and he would accomplish such, and this, this crystal would be the start of a future where he ruled supreme over the Krath and eventually the Sith.

 

Shapes began to form into the crystal, but the Krath-bound Sith knew he needed more to make this lightsaber truly his. He took Furion's dagger and drove only the tip into his arm driving it across the arm and controlling his blood to become a part of the crystal as it formed. The Sith kept his focusing, moving more and more of his own blood into the crystal as it continued to grow in the exceptional flames of the furnace, growing in size with every moment the Sith kept his focus.

 

The crystal had finally grown to it's full form, and the Chiss removed it from the fires, placing on a nearby table to cool. soon enough the Chiss was able to pick it up and marvel at his handiwork while his arm continued to drip blood all over the place. Numb to the pain the revelry of his own success, Nokrt gathered the necessary parts for his lightsaber from the cabinets of supplies around him and within moments had forged his new weapon and was holding it in his hand. The top clawed inwards like a TIE Interceptor of a Chiss Clawcraft, and it was sleek, metallic, with blackened rancor hide on the hilt for a comfortable hold.

 

With a familiar snaphiss the dark crimson blade erupted from the lightsaber and the Chiss regarded it as if he had never seen something so beautiful in his life. He had forgot why Sith loved their lightsabers as much as they did, and seeing this, he recalled completely why. The crystal, the blade, was truly an extension of his will, an extension of his power. No sword, no matter how powerful, competed with the abilities this lightsaber could give him. Nokrt took his blade over to the dead impregnated human female and shoved her on a meat hook nearby, suspending her shortly before he swung his blade upward, bisecting the bloated corpse and allowing the two pieces to fall to the floor. Twirling the blade just so, he cut the woman into small pieces and tossed the pieces into the cages of the animals and sentient beings nearby.

 

"Dinnertime," he said coldly as he turned around to look for some information on armor crafting.

[Tobias Vos]

"You are wounded." A painfully obvious statement was said aloud. Tobias continued to clean his face.

 

"Indeed" He said, keeping Sooba at a distance. This female didn't smell of the usual Sith taint, so Vos was keeping an eye on her. What was her plans?

 

"This was no training accident, I can almost smell the scent of battle on you. How did you come to be wounded in such a manner?" She questioned further.

 

Tobias sighed as he set down the cloth. Sooba came from around the crates to glance at the newcomer. "I was told to duel the former Lord Lucifer, We fought. He tagged me with a lightsaber blade, and this is the price I paid. He, however was not so fortunate."

 

The blood was washed away, but the wound was still there. A giant red wound on his face from his mouth to ear. Not to mention half of his ear was gone as well. But he was a Lord now. It was a hollow victory. He had not finished his task. By the Gods, or whatever was out there, he would finish his search for the hidden Jedi Temple. He needed a shuttle, and possibly a crew. Furion had a mission for the Sith now, it was time to adhere to that mission. He was part of a unit, this Sith Warrior sect, he would remain with them until his next project. Which even now, he was formulating.

 

But what did this female want? Tobias didn't even want to try and scan her mind for thoughts or feelings. He looked at her, waiting for her next question.

[Qaela]

Qaela took in this information with a nod. She didn't recognize him as one of the masters, but that didn't mean too much. As far as she could tell, he had been wise enough not to attempt to enter her mind as other Sith had. If he had done so, she would have left immediately. People who were insecure enough in their own position to attempt to read another's mind were not worth her attention.

 

Now that she was able to look at him better, she saw that his wounds weren't life threatening, but they would leave him maimed unless he got treated. She smiled at him as a new thought went through her head. "Wounds gotten in battle and in training are good, especially if they scar and show that you have survived," she said quietly. "However, facial wounds can lend you to being recognized, and sometimes it is good to be able to blend in and strike unawares."

 

She was silent for a few seconds. "I am Qaela, not of the Sith, but equally devoted to darkness and united with the Sith in hatred of the Jedi and their pawns. Since I am not one of the Sith, I find that it is necessary to find my own allies. You defeated a Sith and that, in my own personal experience, is not an easy thing to do. I can respect strength in others and am not shy of saying so. For such a feat, I am willing to give you a gift, should you desire it. My kind, dark though they may be, have ways to heal wounds. I can do so in a manner that they simply do not bleed and need no further attention, but will leave their scars. I can also do so in a manner that will leave no scars and, if you are willing to devote the time, also regrow most if not all of your ear. As I said, both options have their merits, but it is up to you to choose if you even wish to accept my gift."

[Tobias Vos]

Tobias heaved a deep heckle, there was something that she wanted. A favor in the future? He could heal it himself, it would be difficult as he could feel the last of the Light Side slipping from his body. Plus he would be scolded, and probably punished or whatever.

 

"I am Tobias Vos. Is there something you would like in return for your assistance with my face?" He asked, looking over at her. The body and face were new. Last time anyone saw him, he had short blond hair. Now it was back to it's original length- to his shoulders. Plus the face was just a little different.

 

He was curious to see if Qaela was just leading him on- to see if he would accept help, get him to lower his guard, then she strikes. Or what. She wasn't of Sith, so the rules didn't apply to her. Unless- Furion had brought her for something. She must adhere to some of the rules.

[Qaela]

Though the smile was still on her lips, the rest of Qaela's face hardened slightly. Her tone dropped a little as she replied, "Good, you are not so much a fool as to blindly accept gifts from strangers. Of course I will want something in return. This is a cruel Galaxy and the way of darkness is even more brutal. Sith aren't known for their friendships nor their loyalty. Fortunately for you, I am not Sith and do not share their penchant for betrayal. I can be loyal to those who exhibit strength and who prove themselves worthy of it." She left out that she had inadvertently betrayed and killed her love, but she was not in her right mind at the time and had vowed to never lose control of herself like that again. With that exception, her words were true. The Nightsisters were treacherous, but they knew well enough to stick with the Clan when outsiders threatened and there were enemies to be fought.

 

"I have found that in this Galaxy, a lone individual is vulnerable and quick to be attacked. I have survived more than my share of assassins and betrayers, but I have done so because I had allies to fight beside me. You proved yourself capable of defeating Lucifer so I know you can fight. He owed me a debt for saving his life, but has proven himself inferior and is unable to make good on that debt. Therefore, it is only proper to seek an alliance with the one who defeated him in hopes of strengthening myself."

 

She allowed her features to soften and her smile grow. "You are young, mostly intact, and far more pleasant to the eye than he was. I do not ask for one sided loyalty, either. I am loyal to those who are loyal to me and will fight for them should the need arise. I have other allies as well, and skills that the Sith do not. There are also other. . . benefits to an alliance with me," she added as she pointedly ran her eyes up and down Tobias' body. "It is your choice, of course, to take some or all of what I offer. Just remember: there will come a time in everyone's life when they need someone to offer help or to watch their back. A lone warrior is a vulnerable warrior."

[Karys Narat iv-Adas]

First everything seemed fine and then dark took him. It was curious how much could change within minutes, one moment you were a god the next you were made a man. This was how Lucifer felt the moment the apprentice Tobias defeated him. The next few moments were even more unpleasant as the former Sith Lord found himself being hoisted, half awake, broken and half unconscious to the door of the Dark Lord and dropped. He was a broken man, a fallen sith. Defeated and thought of inferior. His rank stripped.

 

Soon enough the kiffar found himself taken and dragged to the bacta tanks to patch himself up a bit before going about his duty. All stared at him throughout the journey with contempt. The stench of wasting disease and mortality blossomed from the objects of their attention, and the surgeon, Doctor Virato wrinkled his nose at Lucifer when he awoke.

 

“Quite the exhibition, Rather gruesome, I would venture.”

 

Lucifer simply sneered at the 'doctor' if you could call him that. All he could feel was pain and a numbness to his left leg.

 

The scene might have been lifted from a campy, no-budget horror film. The laboratory, was surrounded by the requisite collection of culture tubes, beakers, potions and gangly apparatus. Skin sloughed off and putrescent ooze weeped from septic lesions, others patients huddled together in abject misery. Virato canted his head and stepped closer, kneeling to study Lucifer. Soon enough Lucifer applied the bacta where he could and walked away in pain, forced to endure his failing. The room seemed to almost shake, as rage engulfed the kiffar lifting several objects and sending them spinning into amongst other things several patients.

 

Can you imagine what your world might be like, One Minute After? A blurring of reality that transcends rational bounds; where every frame of reference has been turned on its head, and visuals are but reflections in a hall of mirrors? This was how the former Sith Lord felt. He lost everything. His rank and standing. He was incensed, Tobias would pay for this, for taking what was rightfully his. No it was not his fault, it couldn't be, he was destined for greater things. It was Tobias and Furion. They both would pay for humiliating him. He swore it. One day both would suffer and he would be there, the architect of their destruction. No this would not be end of him, they would not bring about his demise or see him suffer, he was stronger than this. He would make himself stronger. Limping on one leg he made his way towards where the other warrior's gathered. When he entered and saw Tobias he looked in disgust.

 

Walking straight past he ignored him for the most part instead wanting to get straight to the task at hand. His focus was now entirely on his training.

[Tobias Vos]

Tobias stood up. "Well then, as they say. You scratch my back, I shall return the favor." Even though he was among the warrior caste, he wasn't dumb as a box of rocks. He had ambitions and goals. Sooba would only get him so far, he would need another sentient to help him sooner or later. Lucifer was going to be that person, but Furion decided against that and put a crack in their relationship. Fragile as it was, they were still Kiffar brothers. Someday the two would make great allies, or kill each other. Tobias knew of that. For now, they would be at each others throats.

 

"I am not like other Sith." The man said silently so that Qaela could only hear. "I will take help when I need it. Work smarter, not harder. Sith bodies degenerate fast if they operate on this level long enough."

 

He had had his fair share of new bodies to break into, lots of missed opportunities, and lots of training lost on bodies. He was always going to be playing catch-up. This past time he just got lucky.

 

"Show me this little trick, my new friend." Right now his guard was at its highest, where he would be most vulnerable. Vos knew Luicifer was watching him, even in the back here. His hand was ready to go to his lightsaber in a flash- should he need it. No more chances.

[Qaela]

Qaela was not pleased when she sensed Lucifer enter the hangar. He should have known better than to show himself here in the presence of the other Sith and especially in front of the one who defeated him. She didn't need the Force to see how jumpy and cautious Tobias was, not that she didn't approve of his caution. Defeated enemies had a way of coming back to haunt you if they weren't killed.

 

"A smart Sith," she said with only a minimal trace of mockery. "I had not thought to come across one of your kind who was rational enough to realize that they weren't invincible, not unless they had already fallen and been defeated. She spared a glance at the rest of the Sith and lowered her voice. "Healing takes energy and, unfortunately, leaves one vulnerable and weak. There are some things that even the darkness cannot overcome and the fact is that those who are slaves to the light shall always have it easier when healing. Your injuries are not severe, but they will still tax me. It is never wise to be vulnerable in front of Sith, especially not one who might be eager to get revenge." Her voice turned a bit sultry, "We could go to your quarters, or mine. If you don't feel comfortable there, we could go to a training room."

[Tobias Vos]

"Like I said..." Tobias stood up, towering over Qaela. "I am not like most Sith. Things seem a little stalled out, let us return to your quarters with haste so this might be done sooner."

 

Could he heal as well? There was some way to adapt the Light Side healing to the Dark Side. But then there was alot of voodoo that went with it. If one started to play with the balance of Light versus Dark, bad things happen. He would have to be careful. Tobias was most curious to see the technique and how she did it.