Korriban

[John Skywalker]

John blatantly laughed. "Smart little man, but can he predict something more erratic like fire?"

 

John asked inquisitively out of amusement before letting the question go. "Come, now, to drink, we should enjoy the interior of a vessel, not the present harsh climate of our old home... And I am forced to use that term loosely, he looked around remembering the place in its days of past glory."

 

He opened the bottle and poured some of the liquid out into his makeshift glasses. Offering his old friend and comrade the first of the two, "To death, destruction, pillage and, well, some more death."

[Abaddon]

"To Death! Ironically enough I have a rather large corpse in the back of my ship it is a gift for Lord Ar-Pharazon." He said with a smile. "Sometime after Im good and drunk I'll be sure to show some of the toys he left me."

 

Abaddon shrugged and toasted with John.

Edited March 9, 2004 by Guest

[Darth Heretic]

*DH transmits coordiantes and is granted permission to land on Korriban. Disembarking from teh shuttle, his heavy boots ring flatly against the gagnplank. Sensing much confusion and fighting going on, he proceeds to where he can feel it eminating. Rounding the last corner, he can smell acrid smoke in the air, taste the Force, for the first time in what seems like eons. Seeing Abaddon, he slowly creeps up, and waits until Abaddon has sensed him*

[Abaddon]

Abaddon had sensed Heretic long before he had approached him. He turned and smiled.

 

"Not holding grudges over the last match?" He said lightly, still in his drinking voice. But seeing the man made his tone change and though he wasnt close to drunk the term sobered up best fit what he did.

 

"Why has the former Dark Lord chosen to grace our presence?" Abaddon's ice tone had returned. He turned to his apprentice.

 

"One of the greatest Sith in our history...get me the bottle I asked for." Abaddons tone was commanding yet cooled from its ice tone with Heretic. He had scared his apprentice enough for now.

[Darth Heretic]

Child, I still hold the title of Master, and as such, you will show me the respect that I have fought hard to earn. I will not be shown insubbordination by the likes of you.

Now, point me to the direction where I can be brought up to date on all that has happened since my departure so long ago.

[Dagon]

::While his new "master" went off and conversed with the others inside, Ahriman slowly got back up from the blast. As storm clouds gathered and rain fell, a storm gathered. In time, lightning bolts fell in the pattern that he had indicated. He had gone too far ahead, when he looked into the pattern. With the other Sith off no doubt beating each other over the head like cavemen, Ahriman took out the tome he had looked at earlier in library. What had happened to the Sith that they fallen so much? The excerpts he had seen from this text seemed so much more enlightened, dealing with matters such as politics and science, and yet all he had seen of the current Sith was egotism and sadistic tendencies. Realizing his time alone may be short, he began reading about the old ways once again::

[Abaddon]

Abaddon kept track of his apprentice and watched the bolt fall and noted the spots the hit. He smiled to himself and shook his head. Too far.

 

Abaddon almost laughed outright. He nodded in aknowlegement. Master was a title he himself had earned but saw that the man was relatively angered and decided against getting in a fight it wasnt worth it. He thought the Sith needed another good Master.

 

"Well, Master Heretic, The Sith have relocated to Mimban after Korriban was destroyed." His tone was ice cold and returned to the buisness like fashion he had so adapted. Curtnes was a neccessity he had come to adapt with both apprentices and equals.

 

 

"Only someone of your arrogance would go about without an airtank on a planet without an atmosphere," he said tossing the other an oxygen tank. " and for the record I achieved the rank of Master as well within the time of your dissapearance." His cold tone eased a bit too disarm the situation some.

 

"Ar-Pharazon has recently take the throne before that was Montar. My memory escapes me about the other in betweens after youm, my first master Bahrom Zar was among them as was Tarren the Terror and Brooke. I apologize for not remembering the order."

 

 

"Youll forgive, I have something to address." He finished his statments with its usual frostbitten tone and turned to walk after his apprentice. Finding him sometime after that.

----------------

 

"Your thoughts betray you my apprentice. Yes there is much innerfighting and the sith are not the ultimate power or secret source they once were. Its mostly degredation of the Masters.... An apprentice is a symbol of their Master's strength and many Masters did not train there apprentices properly leaving holes in there training. As a resutl many died and skills were forgotten..." His contemplative tone was just as cold as his regular tone.

 

He opened a book and hadded it to the Apprentice. Read this first, I feel it will be best for you.

[Dagon]

::Ahriman took the book and began to read through it, feeling that for once he was getting somewhere in his training since it's two day duration. The book was a journal of a Sith alchemist, and offered many answers...::

[Abaddon]

Abaddon smiled watching the apprentice.

 

"That is just one aspect the sSth study. Once we are through with your basic training you may secure your focus as you wish. However you must learn the basics, but I think I will allow you to roam this area for a bit while i discuss with the others old times and reminsce."

 

"I have been rather busy as of lat and this is a good time to relax." He said allowing a small amount of useles information come out. Realizing it he returned to his cold tone. Damn John.

 

"Feel free to keep any book you wish. Later we will study here togethere. There is always more to learn." He smiled and began looking through the shelves for a ook of his own choice. He let the force guide him.

 

He opened one book in particular.

[Dagon]

:: Putting the book on alchemy aside, Ahriman picked up a three book set, titled the Dark Side Compendium. The books consisted of the book of anger, the weakness of inferiors, and the creation of monsters. The books were penned by the former Emperor Palpatine himself. Ahriman started with the book of anger...::

 

Many claim to have found serenity, and through serenity to have overcome anger. Such arrogance is astounding. These fools have never faced their anger, and thus have no idea whether they have truly overcome it or not. True calm is only achieved through testing the limits of one's anger and passing through unscathed. The capacity for this ability lies within everyone, though most fear to test their own strength, and are thus considered at best weaklings, and at worst irresponsible.

 

::Then came the Weakness of Inferiors...::

 

Inferiors continually endanger their own lives and the lives of others through poor decisions, reckless behavior, and simple inability to engineer the reality of their ambitious dreams. They are like children, crying in frustration because they do not comprehend their own limitations. These weaklings need structure-to be shown their place in the existing social structure. It is left to the wise and the powerful to provide that structure in order for civilisation to survive and thrive in the galaxy. Those who cannot-or will not-accept that peace and order are far more important than their own selfish desires must be removed from society before they can inflict any lasting damage.

 

::And finally The Creation of Monsters...::

 

Conquer the temptation to create specimens that are superior in every way. The danger of such monstrosities being turned against you is too great. Instead, focus on instituting controlling weaknesses into each and every beast you construct. Make it strong where you are weak, but weak where you are strong.It must have a fatal flaw that you-and only you- know how to exploit. And always, without fail, be prepared to destroy your most valued creation... or be prepared to be destroyed by it.

[Abaddon]

Abaddon smiled slightly noting his apprentices choices and thoughts that coincided with them. Nodding to himself he turned and left the room leaving his apprentice to his studies.

He personally did not find much value in deep study. He preferred personal experimentation. However he knew enough to value knowlege when given to him.

 

In fact he had partially came here for his own benefits of studying. Several things he had learned with Ar-Pharazon lacked a real mastery on his part and thua he had come to Korriban. The ancient library was legendary to the Sith. Among what volumes were left there had to be something on his topics of choice.

 

He quietly returned to the others. John, Heretic and the two apprentices John had brought with him sat discussing various events and actions.

 

He waited till he had Heretics attention and then re addressed him.

 

"Master Heretic I suggest you see Master Montar. I tend to be out of the loop on much that happens with our order because I am always abroad. I suggest talking to Montar on Mimban. He will be able to give you something more substantial than anything I could." The Sith Master said taking back up his glass. Abaddon took a large swig before toasting again with John.

 

"How fare you as of late John?" He said cutting the title off to add a sense of relaxation. The vodka was good, very good. And that meant everything else fell into place.

[John Skywalker]

"Titles are wasted on the arrogant, old friend." John said, testing the waters in his usually brash and pointless own indifference. "Besides, their is no need to grace me with one, seeing as I am still beneath the lot of you... Perhaps the only Lord worth being titled as such... Only if I'd care to title myself..."

 

John was going to offer knowledge of the recent happenings in the Order, being a lot less travelled than Abaddon but decided, if Heretic was highly concerned, Master Montar could offer the best advice, there was little John inquired about concerning the Order, he was but their useless left hand, on ocassion gifted but often considered irrelevant. Much the way he preferred it to be. Too much pressure is placed on those who show greater worth, John was a teacher at best, and on occassion an impatient one.

 

Back to the question, "How do I fare? I'd assume quite well, for I am still alive... Am I not?" He offered up his casual smirk, one that had become a cornerstone of the mature and ambivalent John. "So, you mean to tell me, that this place stands in full as it once had, even after the Bugs thoroughly ravaged the place? And I had been meaning for a long time to come back... I cannot believe I hadn't thought of it... Damn."

 

He took a swig of vodka, finishing off the bottle. "The old library still stands. Tomes and volumes of the Sith ancestry sitting here, in a place I had assumed to be covered in bug ****, waiting for any soul who dared return. How amusing." He took several paces and told his apprentices to follow into the place that had once been the courtyard of the Academy where he sat and meditated, so long ago.

 

It sufficed to say the two men followed as they usually did. He turned to face them and said in a hearty tone that did not match his frame, "I promised a weapon worthy of the Sith, did I not? Well, first, a little practice with a more valuable weapon than the customized vibro-weaponry you carry. A weapon I'd say worthy of an apprentice."

 

John walked deeper into the Academy, crossing its many hallowed corridors. The scent of blood and death still clung to its walls, despite the corpses of the bug beasts, who had apparently begun to eat eachother off stood now frozen, as they would be if in the oxygen-less abyss of space, preserved indefinitely. The old room that had at one point held no entrance and no exit, save that commanded by the legendary Lord Zar, opened before their eyes and in it lay scattered about Sith Swords, blades of metal that rivaled numerous lightsabers due to their ingenious alchemical manipulations. "These are true blades." He commanded one of them to him through the force, it looked very similar to the ones he himself wielded but time had taken her toll on them all. They still stood just as strongly, but they appeared older, ancient, faded.

 

John turned, placed a hand on each man's shoulder and said, "Take your pick. Find me through the force when you are ready to proceed. Sense my presence now and search for it throughout this Academy. Each being holds a certain force signature, like a frequency of the force in their bodies. Some are stronger than others, they are a way to determine one's strength in the force. Use your minds to distinguish the force between yourselves, those around you and myself." With that, John marched off in search of Abaddon, who he was sure had much more to say.

 

Finding Abaddon much were he left him, he resumed their previous conversation.

[Abaddon]

"Well then. Its no wonder your still alive, you havent been out in a long time." He sent a taunting smile. "You need some combat experience. And I dare say your apprentices could to." His ice tone still seemed calmer and less abrupt. Like a light frost rather than a harsh blizzard.

 

Abaddon removed a knife and begn wielding it between his fingers. It wove among them like the silver capraces of the bugs through the various remaning columns of the temple, he thought as before he looked up at John.

 

"Walk with me my old friend. I think you can help me look for some information among the volumes in the library." He rose removing his cowl from his head in respect for his long time friend. He began making his way having to step over the various random junk as he moved toward the library.

 

It was, odly enough completely intact, likely kept strong against the bugs by its strange stone. Probably the works of ancient sith alchemists and masoners. The dark bricks intermingled in unusual design patterns somehow still typical to Sith style. It warmed him a bit and he managed a half smile.

 

"I am looking for information on force elements used by the Masters of long ago. Though I know most of the basic techniques for them, courtesy of the Dark Lord Ar-Pharazon, I wish to extend my knowlege on them. " His voice sounded a bit meditative as he spoke.

 

"I also have an inkling of a wish to study Coruscant in order to prepare myself as a decent representative. I plan on studying a bit of how Dark Lord Sidious carried himself....deeper than just History facts I mean." Abaddon said knowing the other would have at least something to say about it.

[John Skywalker]

John blinked, it had been far too long since he spoke with Abaddon about anything and found the man's recent interest in knowledge and the elements surprising, to say the least.

 

Then, following Abaddon, he offered what he could say. "The Elements are a complicated feat and I fear I know about as much of them as you, perhaps a little more, but not a great deal more. Only that their powers exist and should be exploited by our kind today. I would think that if any Jedi sees an already suicidal and sacrificial Sith warrior running at him spouting fire, swinging a lightsaber and demanding lightning in the manner of divine retribution, I'd be a wee bit scared in his position." His manner remained with a sense of humor. Yet, in his inner workings he contemplated Abaddon's request. "However, if the Academy remains intact as it has apparently, the Library should still be well stocked in the elemental department. Within these walls, motioning the Academy's old Library, you can find anything. And these are just the tomes I was able to get my hands on as an Apprentice. I am sure there is literature here that would make a grown man cry in the destruction and chaos it can cause."

 

He then stopped walking, placed his hand at his chin and rubbed the greying goatee for a few minutes, released an affirmative, "Hmm... yes, of course." Before he once again quickened his pace throughout the expanse that is the library.

 

He paused at a collection of tomes, but stood incapable of seeing due to the lack of oxygen thus not supplying the torch light, he opened his hand and with an outstretched palm a burst of flame erupted from the torch. "Better, no?" He asked rhetorically before fidgeting through the tome.

 

"This should get you started, it covers concepts of Sith magicks on fire, lightning and should included a mentioning of the element of Earth. Before you begin, I have a request of you... You mocked my lack of combat experience, I am fully aware of this and would find this to be a best of opportunity as any. I would appreciate a refresher course, old friend." He said, gravely, fully aware of the length of time it had been since he had engaged another in saber combat.

[Abaddon]

Ignoring the last statement for a moment he studied the man. John was quite serious but he had to make a point first as well ask for another couple of references.

 

"I have sufficient mastery of force lightning," He said tossing a knife the knife that had been in his hand into the air. He sent bolts of lightning from his finger tips into the blade. The bounced off exactly how he set them into a various torch posts along the walls. "Im really more interested in Fire and Liquid manipulation."

 

"Ar Pharazon taught me them easily enough." Abaddon lifted his hands. The library consisted of enough moisture and letting his hate flow with relative ease he rearranged the molecuse of water. Apparently the room being closed off allowed it to still contain the liquid in the air.

 

In a brief second he was holding a staff of ice. Which he promptly smacked against the other man's head. Smilling Abaddon set the books down.

 

"Alright How exactly would you like to go about this challenge? I would very much like to have a form of mock duel against you. And yes you definately need to get out more."

[John Skywalker]

John let the blow happen. "Fair enough, you are a Master and I remain a Lord. I taught myself, Lord Ar-Pharazon taught you."

 

He admired the staff, unusual as it was. Ice and water never held much sway and obviously Abaddon's proficiency had far excelled John's own. The man had always been a better duelist, John had always been a man of mind first and even there he had begun to falter. Pity. Why just a mock duel, a true test... "It matters not how it comes about."

 

John's eyes lit up with a certain seriousness, "In the old courtyard. The rules to which we'd always used to follow. Anything goes, I guess. Implants, all aspects of the force, weaponry, etc. No holds barred. Agreed? I wish for this to be a true test."

 

John walked off towards the courtyard to meditate in preparation.

 

*He sat crosslegged, the force encircled him and it was all he had grown to know. However, even she had left him at times and he felt as if she was eager to leave him again. He knew it was not the force who controlled the Sith, but the Sith who controlled the force. He had always known it was passion that fueled his strength and not the will of the force that forced him on his tasks. But for some reason, he and the force were in a way estranged from one another. Two ships running past each other, tied to each other by some unforeseen and inexplicable purpose, to the point of running in circles around the other. John however knew there had always been more to this. The force was a part of you and it was everything but you. He had been feeling as if she were wishing to leave him behind and he were helpless. Funny how the force was or is.*

 

John closed his eyes and forced his mind on the force again. He brought the anger from within at his recent weakness. His lack of ability and lacking in training. He would be using this fury to fuel him in the duel to come. He had a great deal to prove to himself, despite the many layers of his character that prevent his ego from fracturing. He did not wish to rely on memories but on the present, on weakness and on self-loathing for letting himself drift into this weakness. All of those who advanced with him had gained a proper place among the Order and he had remained nothing more than a teacher. His jaw locked and his teeth gritted, the veins across his temple protruded and he forced the anger into a bundle. His frustration bubbled and now he was ready or as ready as he'd ever be.

 

He stood, waiting for Abaddon.

[Abaddon]

Abaddon rose to his full heigth pulling the cowel over his head. He tapped into the force for a moment feeling no need to sit. Again he was in the room of his master trials. The same images repeating themselves with the dejavu like thoughts added to them.

 

He pictured himself and his manifested again in the form of Mes Tisserand. The vastness of the space his hate striking down Mes. He saw his saber blade flash and slice into Mes. Another reliving of the moment he had killed everything good in him. Suddenly he felt himself raised by the hate. He held it. Held the feeling, the rage, the anger, capturing the intirity and vastness in himself. Mastering it as he had during his trials.

 

"What the title Master means you will now learn, my old friend." Abaddon voice was ice and his tounge hissed across his lips like a snake. He looked darkly into his friends eyes and his hate overwhelmed he saw nothing but a target now.

 

His hate consumed him and he used it to emit an ora around him. His signiture starting move. Like a well laid chess game Abaddon always had a set opening and finish with many skills and set knowlege for in time play.

 

He was suddenly consumed in a blackness. His lightsaber designed on Korriban from crystals carried from Ruusan emitted its own darklight that seemed to cosume light itself. Abaddon had developed the skill long ago no longer an image trick it had become the emobodyment of his hate in the physical realm. and he stepped forth

 

His lightsaber came to his hand with impossible to be seen speed. A blur began to strike John at various angles. Abaddon dropped his weight and came up with a slash from below then brought his arm back before he had arrisen complete for a back handed strike into the ribcage. Both times his blade was met.

 

Shifting his weight and torquing on his feet as he switch the lead foot of his left back stance to right, while still finishing the second strike he turned bring the back of his metal fist to the ribcage of John.

 

Knocking John off balance.

[Guest]

The Tigershark exited hyperspace over Korriban, and instantly, Jareth felt reengergized. The darkside, which he wore like a protective shroud, was strong here.

 

It was difficult to land on Korriban, as it was little more than a large floating rock, but Jareth managed well enough.

 

As he exited the ship, and donned his breather mask, he saw several sith.

 

Quietly he turned to Tyler and whispered a word of warning, "These are some of the most powerful sith in the galaxy, be cautious, and try not to speak out of turn. While they may share my cold tone, they certainly do not share my calm nature."

 

With that word of warning, he continued toward the area where Jareth noticed Abaddon in a duel.

 

"This should be interesting," He spoke to whoever was listening as he took a seat, and motioned for Tyler to do the same.

 

"Tyler, tell me about your life before I found you here on Korriban. What plagues you in the night?"

[TylerDurden]

"Ive always been full of rage. I never knew why. I could never really explain why my hatred was so strong or what it was I hated. I aimed my wrath at the galaxy as a whole. when I was younger I used to fight in underground competitions. It was the only outlet I could find for my anger. With every punch I felt my anger being releasesd and if i releasesd enough of it, hit the enemy enough times, spilled enough blood...then I could sleep. It didnt last long. I soon grew tried of fights. As my body grew stronger they became easier and my anger built up again. Not even beating my opponent to a pulp could calm me down...once again I could not sleep.

 

"I needed something else. something more so I became a gun for higher. I began to use the kill to release my anger . It worked...for a while. But in the end I found my self restless confused and angry. I relised that I was force sensitive when I was quite old. Hoping that it wasnt too late to tap into my latent force powers I went in search of the Sith. My search led me here and thats when I met you.

 

"I hope that as a sith I can learn to control my anger and find useful outlets for it. I know that if I hadnt come here for guidence I would have ended up destroying myself...."

[Guest]

"Very well" Jareth spoke to his apprentice.

 

"Then we should begin by learning to do just that, channel your anger into a more.....productive outlet. It's all well and good to go about the galaxy torturing and killing, but then we would be little more than beasts. What seperates the sith is our ability to select and choose where to focus our power for maximum efficiency." Jareth rose and walked toward an area littered with large boulders.

 

Reaching his hand out, he used the force to push the rock violently. The mass of the large rock seperated with great speed and fragments flew in all directions.

 

"Anyone can destroy something as big as a boulder my young apprentice," Jareth said as he turned back and looked at Tyler. "You try it" he spoke as he pointed to another group of rocks. "You must extend yourself beyond the reaches of your flesh. Your body has limitations, but within the force there is no restraint. Command the force to obey you, and you will succeed." Jareth nodded to Tyler and waited to see if his apprentice would preform well.

[John Skywalker]

John had always felt an odd sense of rivalry to his longtime friend. At times it was more than that, a cold jealousy, being actually forced to bow to another who he'd not only been raised alongside with but who had always been seen more of like an equal than a superior. Pride in himself was not something John had, so the issue was not a threat to his pride but the acceptance of others rising while he remained stagnant. This gnawed away at his insides like a worm eating its way through an apple forcing it to rot away. This was John's chief source of anger but he never came to acknowledge it directly, only indirectly when in competition, thus his true outlet into the dark side.

 

He stood and let Abaddon's infamous aura trick engulf the arena, but it was different and he could taste its difference much like the fear foaming at the back of his mouth, or it could have been bile. Either way, John ignited his own simpler saber, its crystal designed deep within the furnaces of Mimban and its color the characteristic crimson. The saber held nothing flashy or spectacular aside from the rune markings in the hilt, and they held no significance to anyone besides John.

 

He knew Abaddon had always enjoyed toying with him, but the two parries left unprepared for the third attack which was a blow to the ribcage sending John back numerous paces. Abaddon was moving with a speed John had not seen in quite some time. Those watching were receiving a true show and likely at his own expense. As the world dies around me, I die within.

 

John's eyes having remained their cool shade of grey turned angrily towards Abaddon's, meeting eachother with the kinds of glares that could freeze the oceans or ignite wildfires. John knew full well that Abaddon could and would block almost any attack he threw at him, so he was fighting with the lesser hand but this would only serve as inspiration and failure only leads to frustration and frustration, in turn was nothing more than a fool's form of anger. John was by many forms nothing more than a fool.

 

As the Master wields Hate, the Lord wields Anger and the Apprentice wields Fear. John was considerable furious that he was bested by a mere blow to the ribcage, a move that many should have foreseen, that he should have foreseen. He bit his lip and felt his nerves radiate with adrenaline, so this was combat again. His muscles began to tighten as he grew angrier and angrier towards his friend. John could not truly hate the man, but he did hate the world. He did not fully yet understand the way to command hate in the way that a Sith Master could, but he knew how to command his anger and fury into a blaze of the darkside. An aura of crimson anger boiled around his every step.

 

John doggedly pushed forwards, after all the impact performing little damage other than knocking John backwards into a slight stumble. He pushed off towards Abaddon blade grasped with both hands and arced it up across his chest. Then, with the same initial momentum releasing a hand to twist the blade into a horizontal slash enough to "distract" Abaddon and expose a more sensitive area. John commanded force lightning to the best of his capacity and hurled a fray of bolts at Abaddon's abdomen from grosse point blank range.

 

There were no need for words, the two understood eachother perfectly well it seemed.

[Abaddon]

Abaddon's eyes revealed his minds smile, he was still consumed in his hate and wouldn't not aknowlege the pain within his eyes or actions. His stomach muscles twitched with muscle spasms from the force lightning making his arm move involuntarily for a moment. His eyes glared ignoring the pain as he laid his hand in front of the bolts to catch them and send his own red bolts into the man.

 

They bolts connected and knocked both men back. A small part of Abaddon's stronger foce lightning had hit Johns shoulder. He could tell by the uncontrolled spasm in the left arm. The man's shoulder tensed and relaxed in an unwanted way making his arm flail a bit. It pulsated and a look of pain momentarily came across Johns face but it was barely visible behind his mask of anger. Revealing to Abaddon he had hit his opponent though superfically.

 

Abaddon looked at the man nodding in understanding that the man had matured much since their last meating. Both had been in the same place traveled the same roads. Through luck or skill he had come out on the better end, but with no less respect for the other man. He sensed the Ager that was driving the Sith lord, derived from some form of jealousy. Unfortunately, he could not read the others thoughts through the anger. His own hate was inhibiting him from doing much of any mind trick, his hate was so vaste at this moment in time that he was having trouble controlling it.

 

He realized this was his weakness.

 

This was what his Master trials had taught him to control and tap into. But he had yet to Master his rage to its fullest extent. It passed through him consuming him and yet bending to his will. Abaddon smile turned sickening as he let go and used his mind only. His body became but a vessel executing his every command of thought.

 

He saw himself from a third person view as he prepared his next attack. His mind in control manipulating both him and the force. He was in control of himself, the true meaning of self control. He struggled to hold it. This would be a test for himself more than it would be against John. He had to find a way to control his Rage till it was just another weapon that fell into habit.

 

His Master trials had given him an understanding and the beginning of the vastness he had to learn. But there was so much more he had left to find how to manipulate. This was part of why he had come to Korriban, to search for a knowelege of greater minds, to find how to accomplish this. But he was comming to the knowlege on his own. It would consume him or he would Master it.

 

Having been recognized as the greatest nonforce duelist in the galaxy he now would prove himself to himself. The tournament had been the begining and now there was not turning back.

 

As his mind took over his body he began to move in reactions. His mind analytically moving through each motion he was to do before he made it. Casting three knives into the air he used a different technique on each. The first spiraled with a force push and control that rivaled any mans force speed. The second Flew above the air and Became charged with negative electrons drawing in positve electrons from the sky. The third and final one caught fire and flew into a Carapace of a bug just beside Abaddon.

 

Abaddon's black Ora expanded as he continued the move. The lightning smashed into the knife cuasing bolts to shoot of in multiple directions it smashed into bulkhead hanging over the courtyard. The bulkheads became superheated with electicity and fell toward john. At the same time Abaddon force grabbed the flamming carapace and tossed it at the victom.

 

The flamming corpse seemed to burn despite the lack of oxygen. The way only a true force flame could exist. The superheated metal and former flesh came toward john simultaneously. Like the magnetized sun. Heat and light combined together in a horrifying mass.

 

Elements coming from both directions as if to crush him. Abaddon stood his blade ready and awaitng john to take his only option left.

 

A direct charge to him.

[John Skywalker]

The muscle spasm had subsided and he sensed the furthering of Abaddon's aura and then the blur of three knives, one whizzing at him directly, another carrying the element of electricity and a third aflame. In short, the words "Holy shit," formed in John's mind.

 

John was a man whose mind worked fastest computing the odds in times of panic, the probabilities of survival for every course of action within fractions of second via the use of instinct and the force. A time of panic being any time his life was in danger, the added adrenaline in his nerve endings only aided to his already heightened dexterity.

 

So little true options, an extremely dense concentration of the force that would tap into all of his force reserves so early on could be catastrophic, would be catastrophic as the duel would begin to wear down. The costly expense of being left to fight without the force's aid was too great to be considered. Despite the amazing display of control, it would leave John completely drained and he would need all his energies to continue this duel. So as, through the use of divine omniscience, Abaddon had predicted, John would be left with little choice but a direct frontal charge.

 

The anger boiled around him into a veil of crimson, his own aura began to engulf the air around them. Had it been in any other locale the air would have become harder to breathe and forced any normal man to pass out as it became superheated. Abaddon absorbed the light; John oxidized the air, he turned every breath a man took in into a puff of flames. His initial footstep crunched into the ground, a sound unparalled to John's light frame.

 

John ran at a dizzying speed to any normal man, but he had become aware of Abaddon's higher level of endurance and velocity, so, he moved fast enough to escape the flaming carapace and the electrically charged beam. The force pushed knife, skimmed the hair on his head as he ran past it at an equal speed. This was insane.

 

The blade was hung back at down at his side to facilitate for the least resistance and the atoms of dust and debris pushed out of his way. Nature was accelerated upon to the full extent of the force and then raising the blade gripped with both hands, John leapt into a downward strike that came down on Abaddon's skull. Extending from the aerial crouch to bring down a boot to Abaddon's upper chest and then using that momentum to leap back a meter to give himself a temporary breathing room before resuming the slashes.

[Dagon]

:: Once again, Ahriman found himself in the room, and once again, he was tracing the lines of fate. He saw many things, but they were only glimpses. He saw two planets, Falleen and Dathomir, and saw what would unfold there. He saw Her, and then the others, and then he knew there would be four. He saw another twisting the threads, but only in matters that did not concern him. Death on a grand scale would be coming, but once again, it did not concern him, so he moved on. When at last he found what he was looking for he turned his attention to the blue pyre in the center of the room. Just barely, he heard whispers emanating from it. Tilting his head, to his surprise the flame tilted too. Ahriman leaned closer, and suddenly a noise blotted out the whispering. It was unnatural and rhythmic, and it sounded almost like an echo. Suddenly Ahriman realized that it was because the sound was coming from back in reality...

 

When Ahriman's mind returned to the library, he answered his beeping comm-link, and discovered that his ship was ready. The cost seemed more than he had remembered, but he had the credits, so it didn't concern him. He would have the ship delivered to Falleen, hopefully arriving the same time he did.

 

Grabbing a leather satchel, Ahriman grabs several tomes from the library, regarding alchemy and politics in particular, and sets off to meet his master.

 

When he found his master, he was, surprise surprise, fighting another Sith. Interupting could prove fatal, at least given the current tools at his disposal. Or perhaps not. Ahriman needed to get to Falleen soon, and having a dead master would not expedite things. Such a setback would indeed be unacceptable. Implementing what he had studied in the library, Ahriman returned to the room and reached out to his master with his will. Abaddon then saw for that battle what Ahriman saw... the future.::

[Abaddon]

Abaddon parried the downward strike with his lightsaber. Bringing it to a 45 degree angle over his head. Johns attack slid off toward the end of Abaddons blade away from his body. Abaddon pushed forward and went for a strike for at his moment. Coincidentally John had also stuck his boot out at this point pushing Abaddon back, Abaddon placed his foot backward to catch himself sliding into a deeper backstnace. As he did so he moved forward with his lead foot in a shuffle motion.

 

Switching his foot back to the other he stood straight for a mere second the motion allowed his heels to kick against one another driving him into his opponent. lifting his foot he contacted john in the chest with he lifted it. About to eject the knife that KVC had built into his electronic leg, his apprentic got his attention. Pulling the kick he planted the foot with the knife, still out, into the ground and used it as a base while lifted himself into the air and performed a spinning round house to johns temple.

 

Naturally John lifted his saber to contact the leg But abaddon having extra control from the planted knife extend his saber to block the other man's attack allowing his kick to continue. The top of his boot connected with Johns head sending hims sprawling into the still semi electified debris.

 

John was quick to regain but Abaddon was trying to sort the vision from reality.

 

"Stupid apprentice. Im well aware of his future, damn hes impatient." He murmured to himself. Raising his hand for john to stop. Unfortunately John was too focused to be attentive to the movement. He saw as an attack and his posture suggested another charge.

 

Abaddon lifted his hand again and this time he held not his rage back. Insantly the black ora over took johns red own. And for a moment silence insued. Then everone felt a brief moment of extreme cold and Abaddon disengaged himself from the hate and rage. Brining it back within his soul to be locked away for moment where it was truely needed.

 

Johns feet were frozen to the ground below and though a quick saber stroked would have freed them, that was very ulikely because his hand and arms were bound as well. The were bound to the a wall that had been behind him, where he had been caste with the force in the darkness.

 

Abaddon had raised his hand force to send his hate to consume then force pushed the man up agaisnt the wall. Shocked John was a bit taken aback delaying his reflexes. In this moment Abaddon had thrown more of his knives pinning the man to the concrete. The unique blade design of these smaller knives had allowed him to force the man against the wall. After that he had merely frozen his legs with the same technique he had used earlier with the staff. Though it had been much faster this time due to the worked up rage John had let loose.

 

John calmed quickly returning to himself, and Abaddon returned the knives to his various pockets and satchels using the force.

 

"Good job, perhaps next time I will have more time that way we might actuall get in more weapons use." He said with a smile. He was rather dissapointed having to finish like this. It was rather lame and lacked skill other than basic knowlege. He turned and glared at his apprentice.

 

"Are you so foolish as to tell me about your own future? Why do you think I chose you? I may be more of Warrior than an intellectual but you far from able to presume to show me your future!" Abaddon said his ice tone turned furious. The apprentice felt like he was being stung by raisblade of snow. Abaddon held back none of his pressence and let it consume the just recently hopeful turned apprentice.

 

"I suggest you shut up and get in the ship. You are far from in my good graces." Abaddon picked the man up with the force and threw him in the ship in a rather disgraceful manner.

 

 

He turned to Jareth. "Count yourself lucky, your apprentice is respectful."

 

He turned to john and tossed him several bottleds of liquor. His favorite.

 

"A gift. I am affraid I have multiple pressing matters closing in. I will see you both later. I apologize Lord Jareth. I believe you know where I am going, and that you also know you are to come. It is your destiny." He said his voice taking a more diplomatic tone.

[John Skywalker]

With that it was over... The saber had long been disengaged and he had been released from the wall, yet a hint of resentment lingered in his mind. He cursed it all away, closed his eyes in an effort to restrain the unshackled anger and lock it away once again returning it to his soul's dungeon. He bowed to his old friend and caught the liquor in his free hand. Then by a short whisper, "Au revoir."

 

He clipped the lightsaber back to its belt and walked off towards the Library. His temples were still pulsating with adrenaline and his breathing heavy. He was furious... Understandably so, he lost and was forced into a panicked retreat all due to knives and the force elements. The bile and saliva was spit out on the grounds of the courtyard. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head in shame. John carried much to prove to himself and much of it was relying on the outcome of this battle and here it was... "Jewed out of me. Just ****** great."

 

His clenched right fist slammed into one of the long standing walls and it left a series of cracks. He stormed off in direction of the Temple grounds on the barren planet and had one last personal goal before forcing the apprentices upon his presence.

 

He sat crosslegged and the battle euphoria left a blood-curdling sensation in him, "Such a pathetic end..." Picking up a handful of the sand that marked the surface of this planet and of the Academy grounds, he slowly let it slip through his grasp into a pile on the ground around him. The unbridled anger was slowly returning to his control. Yet he enjoyed the loss of control that was required of him in a battle. He hungered for blood now, something about the battle with Abaddon had brought back a long suppressed desire and now a Jedi was going to die before he continued on his personal quest after the apprentices are trained.

[Abaddon]

Abaddon looked back at his ship.

 

"Ill see you there. He turned and walked into the c0ckpit. And looked at his apprentice. The dissapointing glare changed a bit as he raised an eyebrow in intrigue.

 

"You have a gift, and intelligence to use it. Lets focus on some wisdom with that." He finished the statement. His voice was semi notched down. His best attempt at compassion. He didnt fake it well, but he hoped the apprentice would get the point he was trying to make.

 

"Get the ship warmed up. I have a couple things to grab from the Library." Abaddon turned and walked back down the large exit ramp of the Gunboat. His cloak flowing behind him as he walked down the once covered walkway, now in ruin. He tightened his oxygen and then looked through the volumes of books.

 

Grabbing a few he walked back out into the ship. His arms loaded 5 books of varrying subjects he had wished to research. He stacked them in a secure place. He would pressurize the cabin that he stored them in slowly so as not to destroy them. Ordering his apprentice to place his beside the one Abaddon had just brought in.

 

"Lets go." Abaddon said sitting in his chair and tacking the ship out of the atmosphere. Moments later they were in space.

[TylerDurden]

Tyler wasnt quite sure what he was suppossed to do. How did somebody destroy a rock with their mind? Tyler decided thta the best approach was to attack it with his will.

 

He focused all of his mental energy into destroying the rock. In his mind his visualised the rock cracking open into a thousand fragments and flying accross the room.

 

Nothing happened.

 

Once again Tyler focused all of his energy towards the rock. Break!He thought at it. Tyler closed his eyes tightly as he concentrated. His jaw clenched tightly, his muscules tensed...Tyler began to swaet form the exsertion.

 

The rock move from the ground. Floated a few inches in the air then trembled slightly. It dropped back to the floor intact.

 

Tyler felt disappointed. But he had never harnessed the foce before and shouldnt expect it to obey his will completely on his first try.

 

"That is the best I can do at present Master." Tyler sais, bowing his head before Jareth.

[Guest]

Jareth's hand jetted out from beneath his robes and he pointed it furiously toward Tyler.

 

The cold grip of the force wrapped his apprentice's body, and gave Jareth control of it's place in space.

 

The Sith Lord lifted Durden from his feet, and with a violent gesture toward the stone, he flung Tylers body toward the boulder. The rock gave way to the horrific blow as the apprentice's body slammed into it at alarming speed.

 

It shattered, and small pieces of rock erupted out onto the planet surface. Jareth released his force grip, and made his way over to where his apprentice lay, nearing unconciousness.

 

Towering over him, Jareth spoke coldly, "Perhaps motivation is what you need my young apprentice. Failure will not be tolerated. Consider this a warning."

 

Jareth motioned for Tyler to rise to his feet.

 

"Now.....close your eyes. Tell me what you feel? Do not decieve me. Even the darkest reaches of your psyche are open to me."

[TylerDurden]

"I feel pain..."Tyler said running a hand over his back he discovered it was covered with his blood. " And anger."

 

Tylers' face was full of hatred. He knew his hatred was misplaced.

 

Standing up was a world of angony. the rock had broken the skin on his back, torn muscules underneath. Blood trickled from the wound. Tyler took the pain, gitted his teeth and stood as upright as he could.

 

Focussing all of his anger Tyler grasped the rock with his mind. Closing his eyes tightly he attacked the rock with his will, his strength ,all the mental energy that he could summon from within.

 

With a shout of exertion the Tyler opened his eyes to find the rock in fragment scattered across the ground. He felt a strnge energy that seemed to be flowing through every muscule in his body.....So this was the force.