The (*) symbol used once signals the start of a new scene while the (*) symbol used TWICE is the end of a scene.

Chapter One

4160 B.B.Y

*Cobra moved with a straight, even flow, his feet propelling from the ground as another vibro blade swung below him. Shirtless, and jumping and somersaulting through the air with a black, simple pair of leggings, Cobra was breezing through his training exercises in the Sith academy on Zenga near the legendary planet of Korriban. As his feet landed once again, his hand shot up and began curling into a fist at another incoming vibroblade that was coming for his chest in a direct path. He could hear the blade pop and crumple before him, and then finally stop. The lights in the large room were out, and there were no windows, so he couldn't see a thing. He relied on the Force to show him where the vibroblades were. He was also trying very hard to listen, hearing the deadly whirring of the blades as they headed for him in all directions, toward almost every part of his body.

Cobra had been taught that in order to use the Force well, he must see what cannot be seen, to be able to rely on the Force to tell him where things were instead of the naked eye. In this exercise, he had been stripped of his lightsaber, in order to practice his use of the Force without anything else. Sweat dripped down his forehead and ran down his neck as he continued his exercise in uninterrupted movement; constantly jumping, flipping, ducking, and rolling from the incoming death.

Finally, he noticed that the noise of the vibroblades had died down to absolute silence. The room was absolutely quiet now except for Cobra's heavy breathing. His throat felt terribly dry and his black hair was a wet mass over his head.

"Master?" He called out in between his heavy breathing. Light finally poured into the room and stung his eyes. He had gotten very much used to the dark, that the new light blinded his eyes. He looked around him as the vibroblades retreated into holes in the walls, which sealed themselves up, then looked up at the balcony, which overlooked the large room. There stood his teacher Darth Fissure, whom he could barely look upon. His presence caused horrible shivers up Cobra's spine whenever he looked into his Master's eyes, which blazed a terrifying, yellow color that all Sith were familiar with. He wore a black robe, and his hood shadowed his eyes, making them look much more foreboding to him.

"Well done, my apprentice, flawless movement, good timing, I sensed much power from you in the Force," Darth Fissure complimented. Though they were encouraging compliments, his voice had such a terrifying aura that caused Cobra to only feel worse, like he wanted to crash to his knees and bow his head to him. Getting down on his knees, he did just that. He bowed his head so low, it just about touched the floor.

"Thank you, my Master," Cobra said in a low tone.

"Rise," Fissure commanded. Again, his voice had such a dark, terrifying sensation, that Cobra's knees felt glued to the floor. But, not wanting to anger his master, he rose, but kept his head low.

"Look at me, boy," Fissure snapped. Reluctantly, Cobra lifted his head to stare at Fissure's scarred face.

"In the Force, I could feel your passion to succeed, to do whatever it takes to finish your exercises, and what does passion gain for you?" Fissure asked. This wasn't a trick question. Cobra knew that he was asking him to recite part of the code.

"Through passion, I gain strength," Cobra answered.

"And through strength, you gain power…" Fissure recited.

"Through power, I gain victory," Cobra finished, his hands clenching into fists as he imagined the power that he had represented during his exercise.

"And through victory, your chains are broken, and so shall they be, tomorrow," Fissure said, the pride showing in his voice. Cobra's eyes snapped open, and he looked up at his master, despite the fact that looking at him felt like a lightsaber stabbing through his forehead.

"Tomorrow, Master?" He asked, anxiety rising in his voice. Fissure nodded.

"Tomorrow, you will face one of our greatest swordsmen, and if you follow through with what our Code teaches you, you will become a Master."**

*"You look like you could gauge the eyes out of a rancor," Butch complimented as he and Cobra walked down a hallway in the academy. Butch, a young Twi'lek from Ryloth, wore a dark red cloak. His two lightsabers dangled from his silver belt.

"Like me, you'll make it, in time, we will both be Masters," Cobra encouraged. Unless they were doing private training sessions with the Masters, Cobra and Butch were always together, challenging each other and scouting the area outside. The two of them had vowed that one day, they would kill their first Jedi together. The Jedi were the so-called guardians of peace and justice, sworn to aid the Republic. Cobra had always scoffed at this. The Republic was weak, a large group of different species sitting and rotting on Coruscant. Coruscant was a planet the Sith plotted to take, soon enough, and Cobra's dream was to be part of the army that would invade the Jedi Temple and rid it of the Jedi. Yes, there were more havens across the galaxy where the large numbers of Jedi dwelt, but the Temple on Coruscant was a good start. It was a place where the Sith could collect information that could damage the Jedi Order within.

"…And you know you want to," Butch finished. Cobra's head shot up to face his friend.

"Hmm?" Butch rolled his eyes.

"You were daydreaming again, weren't you?" He asked. Cobra smiled.

"I'm sure all of us are daydreaming these days," he pointed out. Butch frowned.

"So I know I want to what?" Cobra asked. Butch grinned, and gestured to his lightsabers. Cobra smiled back, realizing what it was he meant.

"Outside," Butch said.

*Outside in the muddy, grassy terrain, Cobra reached for the lightsaber clipped to his belt. The metal hilt felt cool amongst the muggy heat. Pressing the button on the hilt, a scarlet blade exploded from it, the all-too-familiar hum shattered the silence in the open field. He posed himself, and watched Butch unclip his two lightsabers and do the same thing. Without a hint of warning, Butch lashed out. His blades interlocked with Cobra's single one. The move was quick and well-timed, but Cobra had still been able to flick his blade upward to deflect the move. Drawing upon the Force now to guide him through, Cobra assaulted his friend with several swings, all them successfully parried. The two began to break into a dance now, parry after parry, strike after strike. During the fight, Cobra had managed to cut his blade across Butch's sleeve, tearing the tough fabric of his robe.

As a Sith student, Cobra had learned everything from a Sith's point of view. The things he studied in the academy's library was based on ancient writings of Sith Lords. Technology was only used if it was absolutely necessary. There was of course, the lightsaber, which was created artificially, and then of course, there were ships. Cobra had heard that there was other Sith tribes that relied on technology more than they on Zenga did. Technology was, however, studied so that they would have to use it if the need arose.

As a Sith student, Cobra desired to learn the ways of an assassin. Someone who could sneak up on a Jedi and try to take him. Most of the other students in the academy had commented that Cobra was good at coming in without them realizing it, as if Cobra was a shroud in the Force. Nobody would sense him coming, and the dark side within him was hidden from everyone unless Cobra felt like revealing that power.

"You got me there," Butch admitted, fingering his torn sleeve. Cobra grinned, and deactivated his lightsaber, clipping it back onto his belt. Butch didn't smile however.

"Do you really think you're ready?" He asked. Cobra frowned, feeling puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"You grin, you savor this moment as if it's a game. Where is your anger, your hate?" Butch asked. Cobra shook his head.

"Butch, I don't hate you," he admitted.

"Why not?"

"You're my friend, we grew up in this academy together," Cobra said. Butch shook his head.

"Remember your place, young one, our hate and anger is what feeds us, gives us power, strengthens us in the Force," he explained.

"Do not call me 'young one'! I will become more powerful than any of you!" Cobra screamed. It was hard to tell whether he really meant to do it or not, but before he could stop himself, his hand shot up, and he watched Butch fly backwards from an invisible force, which Cobra didn't need to be reminded about that he had Force-pushed his friend. He watched Butch land a few feet away from him, stunned by the sudden move. Running over to Butcher, he looked down at his face, which just looked calm, but a fire danced in his eyes.

"As much as I hate to admit it, I still have much to learn," Cobra admitted. Butch shook his head.

"You do not have the makings of a Sith," he said.**