I guess it's even worse when you can barely remember a wound that cut you so deep. You can't remember the exact details and the same few snapshots keep replaying in your mind: day in, day out. They say trauma can cause gaps in your memory, a way to shield your mind from the truth. If this was the reason, then why hadn't my head erased the parts that hurt the most?

Maybe I was just weak: a poor excuse for a Sith. What kind of Sith gives in to their rage and then questions it? Regrets it? Rage was a powerful emotion. Perhaps the most. Surely judgements made under the influence of it were pure? That was the only emotion that I'd embraced in those moments. Why was I doubting my emotions? Emotions are what defined a Sith. How could I be a Sith if I regretted giving in to my passion?

I was weak. Weaker than a Jedi.

Weak, weak, weak.

And even now I couldn't work out if I had wielded my fury or had been possessed by it. I was lost. Lost in a maze of teachings. Teachings that taught me the epitome of what it meant to be a Sith. Had I been right or wrong?

This had to stop. This wasn't right. Confidence was a Sith quality. Strength. There was no room for self doubt. That's what made a Sith weak. What destroyed them.

I closed my eyes. Was I wrong to question my passion or to have been consumed by-?

"Y'know, it wouldn't kill ya to smile."

I jumped at the sound of the Twi'lek's voice and awakened from the trance I had been in. I glanced at the datapad that had been an attempt to keep me busy. That attempt had obviously gone very well. I sighed. I'd been just staring out of the window for this long? Again.

"I'm reeeaaaally starting to think that Darth Fattso was your sunshine. With him gone you're just Miss Grumpy Pants."

I waved my hand to shoo her away. "I haven't got time for this, Vette."

She put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "What? 'Cause you're so busy staring into space?" She giggled. "Literally."

When I didn't reply, she continued. "Look, seriously Xar, you may be some big bad Dark Lord of the Sith now, but that doesn't mean you have to be so miserable all the time." Vette turned and gestured towards Pierce and Jaesa in the other room, sat on the sofa and laughing away. "I mean, Jaesa used to be one Super Scary Sith, but now that she's with Pierce she's a Happy Sith."

"I'm not interested in petty relationships."

"But you were."

I rested my head on my palm and thought for a moment, before answering in a softer voice. "Once." I straightened and continued with more power behind me. "I am the Emperor's Wrath. Mere relationships are beneath me."

She ignored my excuses. "What really happened back then?"

"Back when?"

"With him."

I lowered my eyes, face darkening. "I... don't remember."

Vette sighed. "We've been through this a billion times, Xaryia." She turned to leave the captain's room, flicking her lekku over her shoulder. "If you don't want to talk about it, fine. But you'd feel sooo much better if you just let it all out. Trust me."

Perhaps she was right. Perhaps this would just lead to self destruction.

I looked up again and gazed out at the galaxy.

Besides, he got what he deserved. He had betrayed a Dark Lord of the Sith. To have dealt with the incident any way otherwise would have been a foolish mistake.

A weakness.

He had been my weakness, chains that needed to be broken. Yes. I could feel the power and confidence flooding back trough my body.

Through victory, my chains are broken. I had broken two of my biggest chains. The major obstacles in my path to unlimited power: him and Baras.

That incident had been a battle that tested my adherence to the Sith Code. And I had been victorious.

I was nearly free - so close. The only chains that held me down were self imposed. Ones that could be easily broken just like Vette had suggested.

I smiled.

It felt weird, being the only true smile for some time. I felt in strong. Powerful. Just like a Sith Lord should. Who would have thought it would have been such a simple cure?

I was the Emperor's Wrath.
Nothing could stop me from bending the universe to my will.

Well, His will rather.

...perhaps there was one chain left, after all...