Star Wars is owned by Disney and Lucas Arts, Mass Effect is owned by Bioware and EA, this story is for entertainment purposes only.
Jon12231223: Here ya go!
Old one Griffin: I feel like this chapter shall answer your question. If you are referring to whether or not they are in a romance...I'm afraid you'll just have to wait and see.
RabidArmenian: I'm glad that my story has peaked your interest. That was an intentional decision, Mass Effect 2's intro was one of the best in my opinion and I am glad that you noticed the parallel.
AVPfan: Great to see you again! And yeah, I took a bit of a break from writing due to school, but I'm finished now and I can devote more of my time to pursuing this. Killing Satele was not an easy choice but I figured it was a good way to start a story.
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Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith
Prologue pt.2 - Politics and Friendship
2 months after the destruction of the Jedi Temple on Tython
Dromund Kaas
Vette walked into the docking bay of the spaceport where the Executioner was docked. Her steps were slightly awkward, most likely due to the large amount of alcohol she'd just ingested. It had been a nice bar, with some nice people, but Vette had to admit that that last drink might have been one too many.
Still, she could see clearly and could walk a mostly straight line. Compared to some of the others at the bar that was pretty good. But then her shipmate might not feel the same way. The thought of another tongue lashing made her want to go back to the bar and grab another bottle.
As the ship doors slid open and permitted entry into the Fury-class Imperial Interceptor, Vette let out a sigh of relief upon seeing that there was no one there to greet her. He was probably working, hopefully she could sneak to her room without bumping into him. Those hopes were almost immediately dashed as she entered the main room, only to find her master typing away at the holoterminal.
No use hiding it now.
"Hey, I'm back," she announced, words a bit slurred despite her best efforts.
"Are you drunk?" he asked bluntly.
"Uh...no," she replied, "at least, I don't think I am."
Her master turned to cast his disapproving gaze upon her and Vette saw that he had decided to leave his helmet off.
The majority of the Sith Empire had never seen the face of the Lord Wrath, due in no small part to the man's tendency to spend extended periods with his helmet on. When she asked him about it, he had admitted that it was better the embodiment of the Emperor's fury be represented by the mask and not the man.
Vette herself rarely got to see her master's face and as a result she took every chance she got to observe.
Most would have expected something monstrous like the creature the Wrath used for a mask, and while he definitely wasn't the kindest looking guy around, he wasn't monstrous. Truthfully, Vette found the real Wrath to be surprisingly normal.
He was a relatively young human male, if she had to guess from her own knowledge of humans he was either in his late twenties or early thirties. His face's contour was quite chiseled, combined with its slender frame, and his slightly small mouth, the Wrath could be considered boyishly handsome, like someone you expected to see on alcohol ads in holomags. But his handsomeness was muddied by the unnaturally pale skin and yellow eyes that were indicators of his "sithiness" as Vette like to call it. He also had two ugly facial scars, the first going vertically from his right brow to his lower lip and the second crossing horizontally over the first scar from cheekbone to cheekbone to create a cross. Combined together -the skin, the piercing yellow eyes, the scars- and the Wrath was a confusing combination of a man.
As ugly as the scars on his face were though, Vette knew that the ones hiding beneath his body suit and armor were far worse. Recently a few more had been added as a result of his horrific battle with Satele Shan.
Many believed that after receiving such horrible injuries, Wrath would no longer be capable of performing his duties as the Emperor's enforcer. But their speculations had turned out to be wrong and the Wrath warned the Council to never doubt him again. Vette herself didn't fear Wrath, at least not like others did. But she did have a healthy desire to stay on his good side if for no other reason than the fact that he could break necks with his mind. The Wrath ceased typing on his console, he then walked over to the Twi'lek and took in a sharp breath of air through the nose.
"You stink of alcohol," he stated plainly.
"Yeah well, I was out for a while and decided to hit up a bar," she explained as though he were a disapproving parent, "don't worry, I can still tell how many fingers you hold up."
Wrath frowned and then turned away.
"Sober yourself up within the next hour and make yourself presentable," he ordered.
"Why?" asked Vette, "we expecting company?"
"Just do as you are told," he growled before leaving.
Vette frowned, a bit taken aback by her master's snippy attitude. He'd always been stern stick in the mud, but ever since Tython he seemed a bit harsher. It made her wish she wasn't the only one on this ship with him. Over the years the members of the Executor's crew had slowly moved on.
Quinn had gone back to serving in the military with orders from the Wrath. Vette wasn't sure exactly what the orders were, but she was pretty sure they involved raising soldiers. In any case he was a colonel now, leading his own regiment. No loss there, Quinn and Vette had never got along and never would get along. His need for following protocol and military doctrine had always clashed with her need to have fun and take things easy.
Pierce had been assigned to a special detachment of Imperial Black Ops and was back to leading his own squad again. His squad's named was shadow...something, Vette couldn't be bothered to remember the name. While the two of them had never been "friends", Pierce had always been more fun that the majority of the crew. Vette missed making fun of Quinn with him.
Jaesa had been granted the title of Sith Lord, by Wrath, and now had her own ship, her own estate, and a company of imperial soldiers to command. As if she needed more reason to have an inflated ego.
And Broonmark had gone back to Hoth on the Wrath's orders to rebuild his clan so that they might serve the Empire. Vette was all too happy to have that one off the ship, by far the most bloodthirsty murder obsessed being in the galaxy. That left Vette, all alone on a ship with one of the most powerful beings in the entire galaxy. Well, except for 2V-R8 but he didn't really count.
It made the whole place feel real empty and real dangerous. Of course the question remained as to whether or not she could leave of her own free will.
The Twi'lek sighed and decided to head to her room.
On her way 2V-R8 tried to talk to her. "Oh! Greetings Ms. Vette I-"
"Not now." She did not want to hear about how he'd repainted the ship...again.
Vette's room, which had once served as the crew quarters, was not particularly luxurious but it was more than she'd ever had before. It had her own bed for one, which she paid for with the generous allowance Wrath gave her every month.
She also had a closet filled with the clothes that she owned and a miniature refrigeration unit in the corner which she had stacked full of flavored sweets and alcohols. Beside the refrigeration unit she had work bench where she tinkered with her weapons and put together little gadgets to slice into systems and break locks. All of this she had because of the Wrath and she was grateful for that. That's why she stuck by him, because he had given her so much and never really asked for anything in return. She wasn't even sure if she was still his slave, technically she was but she didn't know many slaves that got treated like her.
Vette plopped down on her bed and started to stroke her lekku, a habit she developed when she started thinking hard.
She remembered when she'd first met the guy. She'd been caught breaking into some musty old temple and put in cage with a shock collar slapped on her neck. The jailer in charge had been a real pain in the neck, both figuratively and literally. When Wrath stepped into the room she hadn't really thought much of him, just another acolyte trying to complete their trials. But by the end of his visit he'd certainly made quite the impression on her.
Then he came back, this time as the one holding her leash.
He hadn't exactly been tender with her but he wasn't cruel either.
Vette sighed, why was she even thinking about this? Deciding that she needed to sleep off the effects of the alcohol, Vette stripped off her clothes and lay down beneath her covers.
In his personal quarters the Wrath sat with his legs crossed and his hands resting on his knees.
Not many Sith practiced meditation regularly, quite a few believed it to be strictly something the Jedi did. But Wrath had found that it could be used to commune with the dark side just as well as the light. It allowed him to stew in his anger, let it wriggle and writhe in his gut while masking it under a facade of calm.
The darkness built around him, soothed him.
He basked in the sensation of it.
He embraced it.
As he communed, six perfectly round spheres made of pure durasteel orbited around the Wrath at eye height. Floating at the center as the "sun" of the miniature system were his personal lightsabers. Not trophies taken off the corpse of a victim or a relic taken from the tomb of an ancient Sith lord. These twin lightsabers had been forged by his own hands and imbued with his anger, his passion, and above all else his hate.
Currently both floated in a disassembled state but through the Force the Wrath swiftly fitted them back together, their reconstruction was oddly peaceful. Without opening his eyes he felt the weapons become whole and without any physical action on his part, both weapons extended their crimson blades towards the ceiling.
A chirp rang from the door.
Immediately his lightsabers deactivated and the orbs of durasteel dropped to the floor with a synchronized thud. Before his lightsabers could do the same the Wrath swiftly plucked them from the air and clipped them to his belt.
Using the force he opened the door.
"Greetings master," spoke his ship's 2V-R8 servant droid, "I hope I am not disturbing anything-"
"What do you want?" interrupted Wrath, his voice bordering impatient.
"Oh, yes, forgive me. But there is a call patched into the holoprojector for you. It is from The Will."
The Wrath immediately leapt to his feet and pushed passed the droid as he exited the room.
He entered the communications room and walked up to the holoprojector. The console was chirping in anticipation and a red light signaled an incoming transmission. With the press of a button the Wrath accepted the transmission.
The Emperor's Will, Darth Jadus, appeared.
"Jadus," he greeted,
"Wrath," Jadus stated plainly, "your presence is required on Korriban, the Dark Council is convening to discuss the final details for the attack on Coruscant."
"I will set off immediately," assured Wrath with a hint of irritation. He did not appreciate being given reminder as though he were a forgetful child.
"See to it that you do, the Emperor himself will be expecting you" the image of Jadus vanished as the transmission cut. Despite his annoyance with Jadus, the Wrath immediately traveled to the ship's cockpit and began the startup sequence. The Executioner sprang to life and the engine began to rumble.
"Korriban," mused the Wrath out loud, "the place where I was born."
Vette woke to the low humming of the Executioner's engines. It was a familiar sound which would explain how she had slept through it. She soon realized that the ship was in fact flying and deduced that Wrath must have taken off while she was asleep.
She didn't have a problem with that, more sleep for her.
With a small yawn, Vette swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched herself awake. She felt surprisingly alert, not even a little hungover.
Suddenly the door to her quarters slid open.
Ordinarily Vette would have screamed and jumped back under her covers as she was nearly naked. But she knew who it was and she knew it didn't really matter.
"Vette, get up," Wrath ordered, now fully clad in his armor and wearing his helmet.
"I'm already up," she pointed out,
"Get dressed."
The Twi'lek yawned. "Why? We in a rush?"
"Vette," growled Wrath in warning.
"Alright, alright, sorry," she said holding up her hands in surrender.
"Just get dressed," he repeated, "and make yourself presentable."
With that the Emperor's Wrath excused himself from her room.
"Yeesh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the Force today," said Vette when she was sure he wouldn't hear her. Moving quickly, Vette walked across the cold floor and opened her closet.
Inside was her formal wear, a white imperial uniform that Wrath had made for her. He had given it to her the day the new Emperor had taken power, Vette suspected that it was his way of saying "welcome to equality".
Although it wasn't her favorite outfit, Vette didn't mind wearing it. It looked good and gave her a sense of authority even though she had none. When she was dressed properly, she left her room and joined Wrath in the cockpit.
"So what are we doing today?" she asked,
"You have eyes do you not?" replied the Wrath,
Vette rolled them and then turned her attention to the dusty red planet of Korriban came into view. This place had a few places in Vette's memory, mainly because it was where she met Wrath.
Other than that, she hated the place.
The Executioner docked at the Sith Academy spaceport where the two of them immediately disembarked. From there they made their way towards the Dark Council's Chambers. The entire way there, Sith and Imperials alike showed their respect towards the Wrath by saluting, bowing, or in some extreme cases, prostrating themselves. Wrath paid no mind to them however, he didn't care for their shows of respect. It only mattered that they feared him and he could sense plenty of fear in their hearts.
"Do you ever feel like royalty with all these guys bowing for you?" asked Vette in an attempt to break the silence between them.
"No," he responded plainly.
"Hm, it kinda of makes me feel like it. Even though they're not bowing for me."
Silence.
"Uh...okay," she said, taking the hint, "shutting up now."
Luckily for Vette the walk to the Dark Council Chambers was a short one, the Wrath ordered her to stay outside until he returned. Vette was all too eager to comply, quickly finding herself a nice corner to lean on. She wanted to be away from Wrath for a bit, he was being a real jerk today.
As he approached the doors to the Council chambers, the Wrath found himself intercepted by a familiar face.
"My dear Wrath! How are you!? It has been far, far, too long!"
Master of the Sphere of Production and Logistics: Darth Vowrawn. The ever jovial Pureblood approached the Wrath fearlessly and gave the taller man a firm clasp on the shoulder, and the Wrath allowed it. Darth Vowrawn was one of the few people in the galaxy he'd allow to do so.
"Vowrawn," the Wrath greeted with a curt nod.
"My dear boy, please do lighten up! Let your shoulders fall a bit, for today is a great day indeed for the Empire." The Wrath did not relax but he gave a grunt of agreement.
Vowrawn, seeing this, gave smirk and ever so slightly shook his head. "In all seriousness, how are you? I understand you have been working tirelessly for our Empire."
"As long as the Empire has enemies my work is not complete."
"Then I fear your work will never be done."
"If it is required of me."
Vowrawn shook his head again. "Oh my dear boy, you have been a boon of unquestionable fortune for our people. But I do wish you would find the time to look after yourself. The time for martyrdom has long since passed."
"You have my thanks Darth Vowrawn, but my work for the Emperor is reward enough."
"Mmm," Vowrawn nodded thoughtfully. "Still though, you should take time for yourself, the Empire will not fall apart simply because you find your own personal pleasures."
The Wrath disagreed, after having seen the amount of superweapons that he had it was entirely possible for the Empire to fall overnight. But he kept his beliefs silent and allowed Vowrawn to continue uninterrupted.
"You should come to one of my parties. Enjoy good food and wine, mingle with your fellow Sith, maybe kill a few. Perhaps you'll even find yourself a fine Sith woman."
"I will...consider it."
"That is all I ask. Now…" Vowrawn spun on his heel, "let us attend to business, I usually like to be fashionably late but I simply can't seem hold my excitement today."
Upon entering he saw that two of the Council had already arrived.
The first was an elderly pale skinned human male. When he turned to face them the Wrath could see that his dark beard had grown longer from when last they met.
Master of the Sphere of Laws and Justice
"Darth Mortis."
Mortis gave a bow. "Lord Wrath."
A respectable member of the Council, at least in the Wrath's opinion. He was not a staunch believer in Sith traditions, though until recently he believed in the anti-alien laws. But after some time under the new Emperor, Mortis had solidified his belief in the individual instead of the race.
The Wrath returned the man's bow with a courteous nod, then turned his attention to the other member. Unlike Mortis, this man was as tall as the Wrath, more muscular, and hooded.
"Marr."
"Wrath."
Master of the Sphere of Defense of the Empire.
Darth Marr was most likely the most powerful of all the members of the Dark Council. The legends of his martial skill were second only to the Wrath's, with a reputation for routing entire armies on his own. With the exception of Vowrawn, the Wrath trusted Marr more than any other member of the Council. Before the new Emperor, Marr had placed himself above the petty infighting that had plagued the Empire and instead focused his attention on the destruction of the Republic and the Jedi. That alone made him a lord above other Sith in the Wrath's eyes.
"Marr! Mortis! So good to see you!" said Vowrawn in his usual overly cheerful attitude, "such an exciting day no?"
"Indeed, to be quite honest. I did not think that I would live to see the day," said Mortis.
"Those fears can be banished now," said Marr, "the Empire is now as it should be: unified, concentrated on crushing its foes and bringing all of the galaxy under its wing."
"Of course, though I never thought it would happen with aliens as equals" said Mortis, "much has changed since you killed Baras, Wrath."
"Only for the better Mortis," Vowrawn quickly added.
Wrath kept silent, uninterested in participating in the conversation. He might have withdrawn entirely into his mind if he did not suddenly sense the presence of his master.
"We will have to finish this discussion another time my lords," he interrupted, "this meeting will be starting soon."
"Of course," said Vowrawn.
The three council members walked to their respective seats while the Wrath made his way to a new addition recently implemented to the Dark Council's Chambers.
Unlike his predecessor, the Emperor did not enjoy being separated from the Council and thus had a throne for himself installed opposite of the entrance. Placed so that it would be the first thing seen by someone walking in, it stood at the top of a tall flight of obsidian stairs. High enough so that Emperor could see all of the Council and remind them of his place above them. The Wrath's place as his master's right hand was midway up the steps. No seat was provided, as the Wrath preferred to stay on his feet.
The rest of the Dark Council members began streaming in and Wrath mentally took note of each.
First was a human male with visible cybernetic implants on his cheek bones.
Master of Expansion and Diplomacy: Darth Ravage. A distrustful, emotional, and paranoid Sith, never pleased with any outcome unless it directly benefited him. Wrath suspected him to be the weakest Dark Council member on the basis that he was always the one to talk the loudest. Ravage also often made his disdain for aliens very clear. He had no redeeming qualities as far as the Wrath was concerned.
Master of Biotic Science: Darth Necris.
This Darth was human though calling him that was a bit of a stretch as it was entirely possible to mistake him for a droid. The man's skeletal hunched form was supplemented with many cybernetic enhancements, all very visible. Both of the man's arms were clearly cybernetic with no attempt made to apply synthflesh. Another pair of robotic arms attached to his back and constantly loomed over his shoulders. Taking it a step further,Necris's lower jaw had been replaced by one of metal and both his eyes had been put out to be substituted with glowing red replacements.
Beneath his robes it was believed that Necris had replaced his legs as well, though no one could confirm this since the Sith wore a long gown to cover them.
Wrath trusted him as much as he trusted a Wampa not to eat a Tauntaun. The man was sadistic, insane, and held other's interests at the value of a pin. But he was a master of the darkside and damned good at what he did. For that, Wrath believed him to be useful.
The Wrath's thoughts on Necris were banished by the next being to a member of the Dark Council, but like the Wrath a chosen of the Emperor: Darth Jadus.
He was a tall, taller than the Wrath, and broad shouldered with long armored Sith robes and a featureless helmet that hid all of his features. The Wrath often compared Jadus to a monolith, tall, dark, looming, and silently menacing.
The Wrath watched as Jadus made his way to stand at his position left of the Emperor's Throne.
"Lord Wrath."
"Lord Will."
In the corner of his eye the Wrath spotted a few of the Dark Council observing the exchange between the Emperor's chosen. Then tension between the two was thick and it drew the attention of masters of the dark side like a Tythonian moon moth to an open flame. Unwilling to give Jadus the satisfaction of his irritation, the Wrath turned his attention back to the remaining council members entering the chamber.
The next to enter was one of the few aliens that now sat on the council, this hulking specimen of a Zabrak had risen through the ranks of the Sith quickly.
Master of the Sphere of Military Offense: Darth Dominus.
He showed himself a brutal and ruthless commander in all the battles he participated in, leading from the front like a warlord of old. It was also reported that the Sith would occasionally dine on flesh taken from the corpses of both fallen enemies and allies.
A blunt instrument if ever the Wrath saw one. As he entered, Dominus spared a glare up towards him. The Wrath saw the hunger behind the Zabrak's eyes, the jealousy of knowing the title of greatest warrior belonged to someone else. Most would have been terrified to have earned the ire of Dominus, the Wrath feared none but the Emperor himself.
Dominus was a brute with some knowledge of sword play. The Wrath had dedicated his life to the mastery of killing. If Dominus ever challenged him for the position at the Emperor's side, he knew what the outcome would be.
Turning to the next to enter, the Wrath saw another alien. This time he was greeted by the sight of a voluptuous blue skinned Nautolan.
Master of the Sphere of Military Strategy: Darth Krakana.
Another alien that had risen through Sith ranks and found a place on the dark council. This female Nautolan had quite a reputation amongst the Sith for her incredible cunning and military intellect. It was said that during her time at the academy, after only one day, the group that she had arrived with had dropped from a dozen acolytes to only three. The other two died after they killed each other in the belief that the other was plotting to murder them. Apparently Krakana had played them all against each other.
Her tactics along with Dominus's command had led the Empire to many victories.
Speaking of which, Karkana walked up to the much larger Zabrak, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a passionate kiss. The Wrath rolled his eyes and he heard more than a few of the Council groan at the display, Dominus and Karkana showed little care for discomfort of their colleagues.
Instead of watching the two aliens express their passion for one another, the Wrath returned his attention to the other arrivals.
A man with a cane, clothed entirely in voluminous plain black robes, entered and passed by the still entwined alien lovers, barely giving it any notice.
Master of the Sphere of Mysteries: Darth Rictus.
Wrath knew little of this Sith as did just about anyone. All he knew was that the man headed a deadly army of covert operatives and deadly assassins. The Wrath had actually indirectly been responsible for Rictus's promotion to a member of the council following his killing of Rictus's predecessor: Darth Eckage.
Master of the Sphere of Sith Philosophy: Darth Aruk.
This bald dark skinned human man was in charge of spreading Sith teachings and enforcing their code. He led a faithful cult of Sith that could often be found in the academy screaming the code at the top of their lungs and explaining its meaning to all that would listen. The Wrath did not see the need for this Sphere. The man in charge of it was barely impressive either, the Wrath wagered he could break every bone in the man's body with a single blast of the Force.
Master of the Sphere of Technology: Darth Karrid.
This female Falleen has won her spot on the council in a most impressive way. She had had her candidacy pushed forward by Darth Marr but those who opposed her pushed for another, a sith named Darth Gravus. But Darth Karrid outmaneuvered Gravus, she brought him to his knees, and made him beg for mercy. Then she destroyed him.
Wrath saw much potential in her, anyone who was supported by Marr must be able to hold themselves like a true Sith.
The Wrath silently groaned when he saw the last member of the council to enter.
Master of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge: Darth Nox.
Another alien, the first actually, that had climbed the ranks of the Sith and proved the potential that aliens had to be equals. This red skinned Zabrak with horns sprouting out of her jaw length brown hair had killed her predecessor, Darth Thanaton, in ritual combat. The Wrath had not witnessed it himself, but had been told by Marr that it had been an impressive display of power.
Personally, the Wrath found her incredibly arrogant and quite possibly insane. She enjoyed giving herself ostentatious titles such as: Heir to Kallig, Master of the Dead, and Greatest Beauty of the Sith. She irritated him greatly, usually by simply being in the same room as him.
"Wrath, how nice to see you," said Nox as she walked passed him on the way to her seat.
He did not respond.
"Oh, are you still mad at me for engaging in a little buggery with your apprentice and those other acolytes?" she said with mock sympathy.
Still he remained silent, unwilling to give her the pleasure of eliciting a reply. Nox snorted before moving to take her seat.
Finally all twelve of the Dark Council had gathered, that left only the most important member to make their appearance.
"All bow for the Emperor," announced Wrath,
"But we just got to sit down," Nox pointed out smugly. The Wrath shot her a withering glare. Nox rolled her eyes and held up her hands in mock surrender before standing along with the rest of the council.
Then the Emperor entered into the chamber. Every member sensed him approaching long before he entered. Simply being in Emperor's presence was like bathing in the Force itself. It was like being trapped under an ocean that only allowed you to breath out of its own good graces. It was both glorious and terrifying at the same time.
The Wrath fell to one knee as did the rest of the council and Emperor Revan finally entered into the chamber.
"You may rise my Dark Lords of the Sith," announced the Emperor as he strode in, stopping in front of his kneeling Wrath. Only then did the Council dare retake their seats and the Wrath and Will dare stand back on their own two feet.
"It is good to see you again my friend," said Revan, placing a hand on the Wrath's shoulders.
"Thank you my lord."
Revan nodded and ascended to his throne.
"This meeting of the Dark Council shall now begin," boomed the Emperor's voice as he sat down, "we are here to discuss only one subject. The final push in our long conquest, the final battle of this war, the planet of Coruscant. In only a few weeks the entire Imperial Armada will invade the capital world of the Republic and finally secure the dominance of the Sith Empire throughout the galaxy."
"This is a momentous day my Emperor," agreed Darth Marr, "you shall have our complete and total support for the coming battle."
"I too am quite overjoyed for the coming conquest," added Vowrawn.
"Indeed," said the Emperor, "I have gathered you here to finalize your roles in the coming battle. Darth Marr, Darth Karrid."
"Yes my Emperor," said Darth Marr,
"My master," bowed Karrid,
"You both shall be in charge of the armada as it encompasses the planet and ensures that no space worthy vessel makes it off planet. Any attempt to flee will result in failure, any ship approaching the blockade will be reduced to ash."
"By your will my Emperor," replied Marr,
"We shall rain fire down upon their cities," assured Karrid.
"As always, Darth Dominus and Darth Krakana shall lead our ground forces," continued the Emperor, "your main assault will be focused on the political district. Push your forces to take the city and secure the senate building."
"Their forces will burn my Emperor. Our armies will bathe in Republic blood and carve your glory into their flesh!" roared Dominus as jumped to his feet in fervor, "none of their forces shall be left standing! The entire planet shall feel the weight of our power!"
"Dominus mirrors my own thoughts," Krakana said curtly, "our victory will be absolute."
"Excellent," said the Emperor, "but this battle will be for more than the planet. Jadus, share with the Council what Imperial Intelligence has discovered."
"Yes my Lord," the tall Darth took the stage. "My spies have managed to infiltrate the very deepest depths of the Republic secrets. We have wormed our way in, extending our influence throughout their entire network. Through this we have made a most fascinating discovery."
Jadus pulled out a small holoprojector and held it out for all to see. He activated and played a small clip of a man having a conversation with an unknown person. Judging from his dress, he was Republic Commander, most likely someone high up.
"With respect Supreme Commander the discovery of the anomaly is the single most important thing that has ever happened since the beginning of this war. We are talking about unknown alien technology, real unknown technology. If we can reverse engineer it we could catch the Empire off guard and turn this war around!"
The recording stopped and Jadus put the projector away.
"unknown technology?" asked Mortis, "how very interesting."
"Indeed," mused Darth Necris, his voice horribly warped by his cybernetic vocal cords "I would enjoy seeing this anomaly. It's secrets could prove a boon for Empire."
"Return to your experiments Necris, as master of the sphere of technology this discovery would fall to me," said Darth Karrid.
The red mechanical eyes of Necris fell upon Karrid. The Falleen put up an admirable display of not shirking under the cyborg's gaze. But the analyzers inside of his eyes caught the slight twitches of her brow, the beads of perspiration developing on her skin.
"Enough!" declared Revan, breaking the contest. "Necris, Darth Karrid is correct, this discovery falls under her sphere of influence."
Necris held his gaze for a moment before finally relenting and bowing to the Emperor. "As you decree."
Karrid let loose an imperceptible breath of relief, then said "whatever it is, if the Republic's scientist think they can reverse engineer this new technology. Then so can I."
"Darth Jadus," said the Emperor, "you are to use your resources to handle this mission. I place the gathering of any data relevant to this anomaly in your care. Use any means necessary"
"Yes my lord."
"The next piece of this battle is a most important target, the Jedi Temple. With their sanctuary on Tython destroyed, the Jedi have relocated back into their ruined Temple on Coruscant. There are holocrons there with Jedi teachings from some of their most revered masters. They must be destroyed."
"I volunteer for this mission my lord," stood Darth Nox, "I do enjoy fighting Jedi and would revel in the chance to destroy their precious history."
"I too will see to this task," stated Darth Aurk, "the Jedi's blasphemous teachings must be destroyed!"
Revan nodded. "Very well, Nox, Aurk, you will be given charge of this task. I care not how it is accomplished but every trace of the Jedi in that temple must be eradicated!"
"Yes my Emperor, when I am done any trace of Jedi's teachings will be but dust," assured Nox.
"Their heresy will be put to the torch!" Aurk all but spat.
"Then that only leaves the final task," said the Emperor, "the capture of Supreme Chancellor Leotyne Saresh."
"Capture the Supreme Chancellor my Emperor? What use is she?" asked Ravage, "would it not be better to simply kill her?"
"No, at least not immediately Darth Ravage. We will first capture her, after that we will force her to officially surrender the Republic to the Empire. Her surrender will break the morale of their armies and ease the remaining Republic planets under our control without having to waste resources quelling them," explained the Emperor.
"And who shall complete this task?" asked Vowrawn,
"I have already decided, this task shall be given to my Wrath."
The Wrath turned to his Emperor and fell to one knee, "My Emperor, I am honored and will see to it that your will is carried out."
"My emperor, I would never question your judgement," said Darth Aruk, "but assigning a single man? Even if that man is as powerful as the Wrath, shouldn't more be allocated to such a crucial part of our invasion?"
"I will be enough Aruk, nothing the Republic throws at me will be enough to keep me away from the chancellor," assured Wrath,
"You may be powerful Wrath, but you are still flesh and blood," Aruk shot back, "when you were sent to kill Jedi Master Satele, you came back bloodied and near death. Even more it is rumored that you payed respect to her by giving her a Jedi's funeral. I would go as far as to say that you are sympathetic to the Jedi and that your devotion to the dark side is-"
The Dark Council member's words died in his throat when the Wrath reached out hand towards him. Aruk tugged on his collar as he vainly attempted to pull air through his lungs but to no avail. Wrath's grip on his throat was absolute. Gradually Aruk began to gag and even fell to his knees as his life slowly ebbed away.
"I find your lack of faith disturbing," the Wrath commented glibly.
The other members of the Council simply watched, except Nox who was busy stifling her giggles. Just as Aruk seemed to be about to become one with the Force, the Emperor raised his hand.
"Enough of this," ordered Revan, "Wrath! Release him!"
"As you wish," Wrath lowered his hand and Aruk finally had enough freedom to gasp for air, practically drinking it in massive gulps. Massaging his throat, Aruk pitifully climbed back into his throne.
"You have your orders my Dark Lords, this meeting is thus concluded. May we all meet on the field of victory," said the Emperor, "dismissed."
With the meeting ended, the Dark Council members and Jadus left to their individual tasks. The Wrath however, stayed behind to accompany the Emperor and his escort of guards back to their ship. On the way out Vette fell in step behind Wrath, wisely keeping any smart remarks she had to herself for the moment.
"You seem more on edge than usual," noted Revan, "any other time you would have simply cuffed Aruk against his throne."
"I apologize my master," said Wrath, "it was not my intention to cause you displeasure. I will-"
"You caused me no displeasure Wrath," assured The Emperor "but I am beginning to worry for you."
His master's concern gave the Wrath pause. It was rare that a Sith have a master who saw him as little more than a tool or rival.
"Do not trouble yourself with such trivial matters my Master, I am fine," Revan noted that his Wrath spoke as though he'd memorized that line,
"Trivial? You are my most valued asset Wrath. You helped me ascend to the throne of Emperor and you have served faithfully ever since," said Revan, "your condition is anything but trivial. I cannot afford to lose you during such a critical time."
"I am still ready to serve my Master," Wrath repeated as they came upon the Emperor's shuttle where his personal guard had waited. "I will capture the Supreme Chancellor and force her surrender."
"I am pleased to hear that Wrath," said Revan, stopping at the foot of the ship's ramp. "Still, I worry for you wellbeing."
The Wrath shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Darth Vowrawn spoke similarly before the Council meeting."
"Did he? I should not be surprised, Vowrawn has always had a vested interest in you."
"He is a faithful ally," agreed the Wrath.
Revan grunted in agreement. "Wrath, have you taken an apprentice as of late?"
"No my master."
"It has been some time has it not, the last was…"
"Jaesa Willsaam my lord."
"Ah yes. Perhaps you should take this chance to visit the academy and see if there are any promising acolytes."
"Master?"
"I could order you to find a hobby. But I know you well enough that it would be cruel of me to do so. So instead I ask that you begin the work of spreading my teachings to the next generation of Sith"
"Master I-"
"It will give yourself something to concentrate on, a diversion if you will," explained Revan, "and under your tutelage a new weapon for the Empire will be forged."
Wrath nodded, "yes my master."
The Emperor then ascended the ramp to his ship along with his guard. The ship's engine soon roared to life and the ship itself was up in the air, leaving Wrath alone on the landing pad.
After simply standing in the same spot for nearly a full five minutes thinking on his Emperor's orders, the Wrath descended from the landing pad to find Vette waiting patiently.
"So, what are we doing now?" asked Vette,
Without responding the Wrath marched his way down to the lower landing pads where fresh new recruits or slaves were sent to Overseers for inspection. Vette, not really having any choice, followed afterwards.
As he walked, the Wrath recalled that he himself had taken his first steps into the academy on one such landing pad. He remembered exiting his ship, looking around the desolate wastes of Korriban, and drinking in the dark side energy that filled the place.
Of course, back then it had made him feel ill.
"Listen up Acolytes! You are here because you have the potential to become apprentices to the most powerful beings in the galaxy. You are here because it is possible that the great lords of the Sith may grace you with their presence and possibly consider even speaking to one of you specks of dust!" barked Overseer Loun, "now, you will report to me every day and I will provide you with trials. You will complete these trials or die trying. Only one of you will live to become more than an acolyte, the rest of you will most likely die."
"Well said overseer." The Wrath moved up and made his presence known to the gathered.
"My Lord Wrath!" Loun immediately bowed upon noticing him, "Acolytes bow! You gaze upon the epitome of the Dark Side, the Wrath of the Emperor!"
Every acolyte immediately dropped to their knees.
"Rise Overseer Loun," ordered the the Wrath.
"Yes my lord, thank you my lord," said Loun, "how may I be of service to you this day?"
"The Emperor has advised me that I take an apprentice to hone into a weapon for the Empire," replied Wrath, "I have come to see what is offered."
"Of course my lord, of course," bowed Loun, "it is a great honor to be of assistance."
Behind his mask, the Wrath's eyes rolled. He had no stomach for those that lowered themselves like this before superiors, then strutted around like royalty before those under them. Perhaps it was the Sith way but Wrath found it rather nauseating.
"Please, feel free to do whatever you need to find the perfect apprentice," Loun then turned to the acolytes, "acolytes! Present yourselves!"
The acolytes formed a neat line, standing shoulder to shoulder. The Wrath crossed his arms and began to move down the line. It was a rather random assortment of beings, about half were human while the other half were aliens.
Amongst them were a Twi'lek, a Rodian, and a Cathar, all of which were rather unimpressive to behold. There was a rather fearsome looking Trandoshan among their ranks, tall, gray scales, and a great many scars. The oversized lizard also wore what looked like a wookiee pelt on his right shoulder. The Wrath decided he had some potential. One of the Purebloods also seemed possible, he was bald, had a beard made of small tentacles, and had a single prosthetic arm and a prosthetic lower jaw.
Among the humans, none save one stood out. A tall dark skinned man, well muscled with hair tied up into dreadlocks that reached midway down his shoulders. The Wrath made a mental note to keep an eye on him. As expected he found a few that were all nerves. A frail looking woman who looked like she'd barely turned eighteen and a red haired man who seemed to be ready to wet himself.
The Wrath purposefully stopped before these two. The man immediately tensed, his knees even started to buckle. Experimentally the Wrath took a step closer and the man turned pale white, the woman next to him actually dropped to the ground having fainted. Behind him the Wrath heard Overseer Loun slap her palm against her forehead and Vette suppress a snicker of amusement.
The woman was young and so her lack of courage could be forgiven. But this man, he was a mewling waste of the Force and did not deserve to even enter the hallowed halls of the academy. The Wrath reached his hand out and called out to the Force. Most familiar with the dark side would have assumed he was preparing to use the Force to choke the poor man or electrocute him with lightning.
Instead, wispy red streams of power became visible between the Sith's hand and the victim's body. The streams were few at first but quickly increased in numbers and intensity. The man began to scream as his very life began to literally flow away before his very eyes. The Wrath was demonstrating a power few Sith knew of, the ability to drain life using the force.
In less than a minute, the Wrath had completely drained the acolyte of all his life and taken it for himself. The man's withered husk of a body fell to the ground, looking more like a skeleton with skin than a proper corpse.
The Wrath felt a spike of amusement at seeing the horrified faces of all the other acolytes as they stared at the now corpse like body of their former fellow acolyte.
"Try not to be like him," The Wrath stated bluntly.
"An excellent display of power my lord, truly you are-"
"Give these Acolytes their trials and take that one off the line," he pointed to the fainted young woman. "She hasn't the mettle to be Sith, have her serve the academy as an assistant instead."
"Oh, of course my lord." Loun immediately began doling out the Acolytes trials and calling for some assistants to help with the girl. The tasks were familiar to the Wrath, things such as sending them into caves to talk to hermits, retrieving old tablets, killing a few of the local fauna, torturing prisoners, etc.
It was amusing seeing the process from the other side. Perhaps this task would not prove to be as troublesome as he had first thought.
The Wrath stood stoically on the landing pad overlooking the ruins of Korriban. Beneath his helmet, the Sith's eyes followed the activities of those below him. Acolytes scurrying around to finish their trials, Overseers barking at any stupid enough to be inactive, it brought back many memories. Some of them were pleasant, but most of them were painful.
"I think we met on a day like this didn't we?" asked Vette, breaking the silence, "then again, I don't think the weather on this planet changes at all so maybe all days are like the one we met."
"How very observant," replied Wrath,
"Yup, that's me...Ms. Observant," Vette with her usual glibness.
A few minutes of silence passed that consisted of Wrath continuing to stare out over Korriban and Vette entertaining herself by squishing the heads of the distant figures with her fingers.
"So," said Vette, breaking the silence again, "which one do you think will make it?"
Wrath did not respond, opting instead to remain silent.
"My money's on that big Trandoshan. Mean looking guy, looks like he's been in quite a few scraps," she tried.
Wrath said nothing.
"Oh come on, live a little. You must have some opinion," begged Vette.
Wrath let out a low sigh and relented. "The pureblood seems like a viable option, he is clearly battle hardened. But the dark skinned human is also possibility."
"Yeah, they looked pretty mean too," admitted Vette. Then she changed the subject, "how about that Overseer huh?"
The Wrath actually turned to face her, though clearly it was out of confusion more than anything else. "Loun? What about her?"
"She's kinda pretty right?"
No response.
"Good height, nice hips, got a figure, and definitely…." Vette imitated the panting of a dog.
"What's your point?"
"You gonna go for it?"
The Wrath actually recoiled in revulsion. "Why would I want to do that?"
Vette shrugged. "She's a good looking and willing woman. I figured you'd be all over that."
"She's not my type."
Her curiosity piqued, Vette tried to think back to the few times that she could remember the Wrath displaying interest towards a woman.
There was Taunt, from her old gang from back in the day. That had actually amounted to, what Vette assumed, had been some physical intimacy. Ew, now I'm getting mental images.
As Vette tried to shake the pictures of Taunt and the Wrath doing the nasty, Overseer Loun returned.
"My lord," said Overseer Loun, "the acolytes have returned, I thought you'd like to see which are still alive. Perhaps provide another demonstration."
Vette thought that the overseer was perhaps a little too eager to see the Wrath kill another acolyte. She probably gets off to that kind of stuff.
The Wrath simply grunted and followed the Overseer, Vette in tow, to her office where the remaining acolytes were gathered. True to the predictions of both the Wrath and Vette, the Trandoshan, Pureblood, and dark skinned human were both alive, along with a few others.
Rather unsurprising.
Wrath scanned them, all held up against his gaze though none met it.
"Perhaps you would like to decide their next trial my lord?"
The Wrath turned his gaze upon the Overseer and she immediately lowered her eyes.
"Forgive me my lord, of course, such things are below your station. I will do my duty immediately," she stuttered nervously. Taking her position behind her desk, she assigned the various acolytes their various tasks.
The Wrath left to go back to watching over Korriban.
Vette joined him of course and continued to squish the heads while trying to remember other instances of the Wrath having an interest.
Let's see...there was that one...nah...or how about...no...Oh! There was that blonde….
After listening to Loun give the acolytes their next trials, the Wrath had returned with Vette to their ledge that overlooked the ruins of Korriban. Beneath his helmet the Sith closed his eyes and allowed himself to take in the dark side energy surrounding him. He was graced with at least ten minutes of blissful brooding before being interrupted.
"Vette, go back to the ship."
"Huh?"
Wrath turned around and laid eyes upon her, his glare was scalding even from behind his mask. But Vette could tell that it was a glare not meant for her.
"Go now," he ordered tersely. Vette followed his eyes and quickly understood his meaning and immediately made herself scarce. As soon as the Twi'lek was a comfortable distance away, Wrath greeted his fellow Sith. "Darth Jadus, to what do I owe the pleasure."
From out of the shadows of the academy, the Will revealed himself.
"Do not sound so crass, Wrath. You have only but yourself to blame for this intrusion," replied Jadus in an even tone.
Underneath his mask the Wrath scowled. He hated the man's ability to always keep his voice level and emotionless. It made it hard for even the most perceptive being to get a beat on the Sith. It was made worse by the fact that Jadus was one of the few beings in the galaxy not afraid of him.
"Myself?" asked the Wrath, "and what exactly have I done?"
"You know fully well," replied Jadus, again in monotone though he somehow also made it sound mocking. "You are the Emperor's Wrath. You enforce his laws and carry out his sentences. For those amongst the ranks that step out of line, you must ensure never do so again."
"Is there a point to your description of my duties?"
"Darth Aruk is sniveling, cowardly, waste of human flesh. He does not deserve his seat amongst the most powerful of our kind. Yet it is not up to you to decide where or when the blade must fall. It is the Emperor's. Had Lord Revan not intervened, a seat would be open on the Dark Council."
"I would have been doing us a favor. If a Council member can fall so easily then he should not have been on the Council in the first place."
"That may be, but the matter remains: you acted out of turn."
"I acted according to the beliefs and philosophy of our kind. The weak are left to die and the strong continue on. It is our way."
"It was not always this way, you know this to be true. Before us, before Revan took the throne, our kind was slowly destroying itself. It was not easy for us to turn the Council to our new order, to make our dream a realization. Though they are complacent right now, they can still be pushed to rebelling."
"If that happens, I'll simply carry out my duty."
"I would rather you not. It was no small feat to bring us here today. I will not have everything we have accomplished destroyed by YOUR lack of discipline."
That struck a nerve with Wrath. His lack of discipline?! How dare Jadus accuse him of losing focus, of breaking the mold that he had dedicated years towards creating. The Wrath's anger spiked and with it came a brief pulse of Force energy that would have sent a lesser being hurdling away.
With clenched teeth, the Wrath turned to face the Will.
"Give me one. Good. Reason. Why I shouldn't peel the skin off your bones right now!" he growled.
"Because had it not been for me, you would still be serving THAT mad man. You would have been the tool of a lunatic obsessed with achieving immortality and stuck in the ways of a long forgotten age."
Reluctantly, Wrath forced his anger to subside.
"You forget yourself Jadus, were it not for the Emperor neither of us would be where we are right now." He began walking towards the taller Sith, his stride emanating confidence. "That is why he has ascended to the throne and we have become his servants."
"Yet it is because of us that he could ascend at all," countered Jadus.
"True, but we still follow him. Because amongst my strength and your intellect, he holds something much more powerful: vision. He is the visionary amongst the warrior and the sorcerer."
Jadus remained silent.
"You, are The Will," continued Wrath, pointing a finger on Jadus's chest, "and I am The Wrath. You give his vision form, and I give it force!"
He jabbed his finger against Jadus' chest and said, "we are not allies because we enjoy each other's company. But rather because another unites us in a cause we both believe in. Never forget that Jadus and never forget that you are not the only one who understands what the Emperor wants."
With that said, the Wrath roughly pushed passed his colleague and began walking back to Overseer Loun's office. Along the way he signaled to Vette that it was safe to come out.
"Wow," breathed Vette, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow, "that was tense."
"You should know better than to listen in on my conversations."
"Conversation? Is that what you call that? I don't know about other people but to me that sounded more like you two were comparing the sizes of your lightsabers."
"Don't let me catch eavesdropping again."
"Awww, scared I'll get caught in the crossfire."
"No. But you should be."
It wasn't too long before the acolytes returned from their trials.
Unsurprisingly, their numbers had once again been whittled down.
Also unsurprising was the fact that the Trandoshan, Pureblood, and dark skinned human were among the survivors.
What was surprising however, was that there were four other survivors.
Given the timeframe he'd given the Overseer and the difficulty of the trials they'd been put through, the Wrath had fully expected to see only the first three alive. Yet here there were seven in total.
Very surprising, but not unpleasant.
"My Lord," bowed the Overseer, "I was just about to assign the acolytes their next trial, I assure you that this next one will definitely decide which of them is worthy of becoming-"
"I have another idea," he cut in.
"Oh! Of course my Lord, what kind of trial would you like to put these acolytes through?"
"How many warblades does the armory have?"
"My Lord?"
"Warblades Overseer!" he snapped, "how many?"
"I am, unsure my lord. Permit me to go check."
"Do it, bring back one for each of these hopefuls."
Overseer Loun bowed and went off to accomplish the given task. A few minutes later and she came back with two servants carrying the warblades.
"Give them their weapons," he ordered.
Loun bowed again and nodded to the servants to complete the task.
Each of the acolytes was given a vibrosword to replace the practice blade they'd arrived with.
"Acolytes," began Wrath, "you have been armed and now you will be given your trial. You will be lead to a pit, an arena. There you will fight to survive against whatever adversities I choose. No matter how many or how powerful your opponents might be, you will fight. Die, and you will be forgotten. But survive and you will be given a chance at greatness."
The Wrath then nodded to the Overseer who then proceeded to lead the way to the arena.
If nothing else, this would be very amusing.
The acolytes had been gathered into the arena. Above the Overseer and the Wrath presided over like judges about to deliver a verdict. Loun waited for the Wrath's command for the beasts to be let loose.
"Release the Massiff first," he ordered,
The arena master, an old portly human, nodded and pulled lever. Three gates opened up, allowing a dozen reptilian canines with hard quill like spikes along their backs and hungry mouths full of sharp teeth into the arena. The beasts had been given just enough food to survive, but too little to remember being satisfied. Now with fresh warm meat in front of them, they were eager to gorge themselves.
The Trandoshan jumped right into the fray, he claimed the first kill by skewering the lead Massiff through the stomach as it pounced at him.
The rest of the acolytes followed his lead.
Within a five minutes, the beasts were dead but all of the acolytes still remained. The only real casualty was that the human male -not the dark skinned one- had sustained a scratch along his back.
"A good start," nodded the Wrath with satisfaction, "unleash the Nexu."
Another gate opened and three of the gigantic feline predators leapt into the arena. The acolyte that had sustained the first injury was helpless as one of the beasts leapt atop him and sank its teeth into his neck. Blood gushed out into the Nexu's mouth as it hungrily fed upon its prey.
The other two moved to catch their own meal, but the acolytes were now wise to the danger of these predators. To the Wrath's surprise, no other acolytes died to the beasts, though a few sustained injuries.
Then came the Reek, large reptilian bovine. Fed a diet of meat by the beast masters in order to increase their aggressiveness. When let loose the acolytes made the mistake of trying to form a circle. The Reek simply charged through heedless of their formation. The female Rattataki turned out to be the slowest and she paid for by being gouged on a cheek horn and then trampled.
Once again however the acolytes quickly adapted. The dark skinned human with dreadlocks in particular.
More than likely the man came from a planet where there were similar beasts because he was the first to kill one of the reptilian bovine.
Once the Reek were dead the Acklay were sent in, huge carnivores native to Felucia. A mixture of crustacean, insect, and reptile, it was a dangerous foe. The Sith Pureblood had been the one to die then. Skewered on the Acklay's claws then his body torn in half between two mouths.
Now just the dark skinned human, the cathar, and the Trandoshan lived.
"Oh, my poor beasties," sniffled the beastmaster.
"You will be reimbursed," assured the Wrath, which put the man in much better moods.
What to release on them this time?
A rancor perhaps? Maybe the wampa? Or perhaps a Terentatek?
Suddenly the beastmaster came up to the Wrath and whispered into his ear. What she had to say intrigued the Wrath, he nodded to the woman.
"This is the last wave. Survive this and you will have proven you have what it takes to be Sith," announced Wrath, "fail and be forgotten to time."
The gates opened to reveal the acolytes final test.
Out stepped, not beasts, but humanoids.
One a human the other a Twi'lek, both stank of the light side of the force and were armed with durasteel vibroblades.
"These are Jedi padawan, captured during the burning of Tython. Kill them and you will earn your place."
The Trandoshan as always was the first to attack.
The padawans immediately took a combat stance.
"Please, step away! We do not wish to harm you!"
Their pleas fell on deaf ears. The Trandoshan swung his blade at the Jedi. Both easily avoided his attack. There was a flash of steel and the Trandoshan fell to the ground, dead.
Wrath smiled as he saw the remaining two acolytes prepare themselves. This would be interesting.
"Poodoo" muttered Vette as she watched the Trandoshan get cut down. Ah well, not like I bet money on him or anything.
Vette moved to concede defeat to her master, when suddenly Overseer Loun intercepted her.
"Twi'lek," she began in that same imperious tone she used with the acolytes, "you are the Wrath's servant yes?"
"Yeeeeaaah," Vette replied cautiously.
"Quite the honor," Loun said.
"I guess."
"Tell me, how did you become part of the Wrath's retinue?"
I became his slave is what Vette thought of saying but figured it wasn't an answer that Loun would have accepted. So instead she said, "I helped him break into one of the ancient tombs around here."
Loun's eyes lit up as though she'd discovered enlightenment. "Ah! I see, you proved your worth to him!"
"...sure."
"Then do you think perhaps, if I prove my worth to the Wrath I too could become part of his retinue?" Vette was surprised at how genuinely hopeful the overseer sounded.
"Uh...maybe, he's not exactly holding auditions…" Vette looked at the arena, "well, he is but not for anything beyond an apprentice."
Loun's smile vanished replaced with a crest fallen pout. Damn it.
"But you never know!" added Vette, "prove yourself enough and he might just make an exception!"
Loun's smile returned almost instantly. "Yes! Of course you are correct! I must not wait for the right to stand next to him. I must make it my right! You truly understand the ways of the Sith Twi'lek."
"I really don't," said Vette, but Loun seemed not to hear Twi'lek from inside her own little world.
"Thank you Twi'lek, I shall make this the sole purpose of my existence, this I swear!"
Vette subtly edged away from the clearly insane Pureblood and turned her attention back to the arena.
Surprising, very surprising.
Both Jedi padawan now lay dead and both remaining acolytes were still alive. The dark skinned human had been expected, but the female Cathar? The Wrath was not too proud to admit that he had fully believed she would be one of the first to die, she was after all a slender and unassuming thing.
But during the fight she had proved an impressive swordswoman, displaying advanced applications of Forms II and III. The dark skinned human had also showed his mettle, though his strength lay less in finesse like the Cathar and more in pure savage aggression.
Both had handled their opponents well and without as much struggle as he had expected.
It was enough to produce a slow clap from him.
Both acolytes looked up to him and upon seeing his applause, saluted with their blade in thanks.
Gracefully, the Wrath dropped down from above and landed in the arena right in front of the acolytes.
"Impressive, most impressive. You have both proven yourselves worthy to become Sith. While it is unusual, it is not unprecedented for a lord to take two apprentices and I will not waste promising talent on attempting to appease tradition. Any who object shall answer to me. State your names."
"I am Zhaff Passik, my lord," said the tall dark skinned human male, he immediately fell to one knee.
"I am called Marshalla my lord," said the Cathar, she too kneeled.
"Rise," the Wrath commanded and so they did, "gather your belongings and report to my ship in one hour. There we will discuss your futures."
The two made a final bow and exited the arena. The Wrath leapt back up to the observation post where Vette and Loun were waiting for him.
"Two huh?" commented Vette, "you going for quantity over quality?"
"No, I've acquired both," he replied simply.
"If you say so. Still, it'll be nice to have some extra company around the ship. Even if it's two more Sith. Hope they aren't crazy like the last one."
Behind his mask the Wrath raised a brow. "Indeed."
"My lord I hope I was even the tiniest help in your search," Loun almost begged.
"You performed your duties adequately Overseer Loun."
An all too visible shiver of pleasure ran up the overseer's spine. "Thank you my lord! Thank you!"
Behind her Vette visibly gagged.
Upon entering his ship, the Wrath was immediately greeted by his servant droid whom he ordered to go prepare two rooms. On the note of his two new apprentices, he would need to make sure they were properly armed. It would not do for apprentices of the Emperor's Wrath to carry around common blades instead of proper lightsabers.
Normally he would have them forge their own weapons as he once did. But given the impending attack on Coruscant he would have to provide them suitable placeholders until such a time that they could make their own.
To accomplish this he entered his personal chambers. Standing opposite from his bed, the wall was covered from knee to ceiling with lightsabers, a monument to his accomplishments as a warrior. The most recent count showed 257 lightsabers, all taken from slain Sith and Jedi.
Every morning that he woke his trophies were the first thing he saw, to remind him of his journey, of how he became to be who he was. Gently he ran the knuckle of his index finger over a lightsaber at chest height on the column closest to the door. It was a lightsaber of simple and conservative make, the only decoration being a thin piece of rope with three feathers attached to the end. It had once belonged to Jedi Master Yonlach, the first Jedi Master he'd ever killed.
On the column over at the same height was a darker weapon that had once belonged to the former Dark Council member Darth Ekkage. Though it had been in the service of his former master Vitiate, it had been one of Wrath's proudest moments. It had also brought him great pleasure for Ekkage had been the sister of another former master: Darth Baras.
Speaking of Baras, the man's weapon held its position just under his sister's. A reminder of the day the Wrath had confronted his former master in the Dark Council chambers as the Emperor's Wrath. It had been most satisfying to drive his saber through the old man's heart. Upon touch it the Wrath could still feel the lingering pain of the old man's last moments.
Passing the rest, the Wrath came upon the only trophy that was placed on its own pedestal. This one in particular held special value to the Wrath.
It was the saberstaff of Jedi Grand Master Satele Shan.
After her death at his hands he had searched the temple for the two broken pieces of her weapon that he himself had cut in half. Upon acquiring them he had been reassembled them into the weapon's original state. It had taken effort but in the end he had mended the two back together into a perfect picture of what it had been before.
Now it was his trophy, a reminder of his pain, and of his hate.
He ran a single finger along the length of the weapon and like other times he found himself confused. He sensed pity and grief. But it wasn't grief that she had been killed, it was...for someone else.
Shaking his head of the nostalgia, Wrath searched for two that he could bare to part with. Eventually he found them, the lightsaber that had once belonged to Darth Rathari, a Sith he had killed in service to Baras, and the one that had belonged to rather arrogant Jedi whose name he could not recall.
Wishing for his apprentice to have a proper Sith weapon he replaced the blue crystal inside the Jedi's weapon with a synthetic red one. He finished just in time as he heard his servant droid greet his two new apprentices. Gathering the two weapons, he went to greet them.
He found them in the communications room where his droid was giving them the usual tour it gave to everyone.
"Apprentices," he said, announcing his presence. Both bowed immediately upon seeing him.
Now that they were his to command, Wrath was able to get a better look at both of them.
The human was tall, standing a good inch or so above Wrath, muscled with a body that told a story of constant struggle, and had a hardened look in his eye that spoke of a comfort with taking life. His hair was braided into dreadlocks that reached the small of his back, an uncommon hair length for most warriors. Oddly the human had refused acolyte attire, instead choosing to be naked from the waist up with only a bone necklace around his neck. Overall he reminded the Wrath of a great feline predator he had seen on a jungle planet, strong and proud.
The Cathar was the opposite as far as physical appearances went. Her fur was a healthy tan color, interrupted occasionally by darker brown spots along her face and neck. She was shorter than both Wrath and the Zhaff, slimmer as well. Her dark brown hair was braided into a singular long ponytail and was long enough to reach to her shoulders . To the Wrath her stance and body seemed more suited for a dancer than a warrior. However like her human counterpart, the Wrath saw that her feline eyes saw a hungry darkness beneath the surface.
A good a start as any.
"This ship will serve as your home," began the Wrath, "it is here you will sleep, eat, train, and commune with the dark side."
He then held out the lightsabers he had brought for them.
"Your new weapons," he explained. Zhaff took Rithari's immediately and activated it, performing a few practice swings to get a feel for its weight.
Marshalla on the other hand seemed a bit hesitant, it was brief but there. She did eventually claim her weapon and activate it. She seem enraptured by the crimson blade, like a child who had just found a new toy.
"Training with them begins immediately," announced Wrath, "the droid shall show you to the training room. There you will practice with the training remotes to acquaint yourselves with blaster deflection. They are locked at level 8 intensity, you will not walk away unharmed. Do you understand?"
"Yes master," they both replied,
"Good." The two took that as their cue to leave, but the Wrath held up a hand for them to pause.
"Remember," he began, "you two have been given a chance that few even dare hope for. You have made it this far, but that does not mean your position is secure. If I find either of you lacking in any way, it will not be difficult to find replacements."
With that subtle threat hanging over them, the Wrath allowed them to leave.
Author's Note:
Hello everybody! How about that? An update just a week after the first. This one had less action than the previous one, but I felt that it was necessary in order to build more of the story. The next update, which shall involve the attack on Coruscant, will be ALL action.
So tell me, what do you think of Revan being Emperor of the Sith?
My OC's haven't been around for very long but what do you think of them? What do you think of the Wrath? What do you think of Nox?
Did I do good on getting Vette's personality?
Again I apologize if you are hankering for the Mass Effect crossover part to start, but I did warn you that the first couple of chapters would not have Mass Effect stuff in it. I promise that by at least the fifth update we will have Commander Shepard.
That's all for now.
Please review and tell me what you thought!
Bye Bye!
