Various grunts and moans drifted through the air, outside Menma's new office as the Feral Sith Lord punished the pussy of his new Apprentice, Corrin's face was flushed with red, her hair was loose and splayed about, her milky white body on full display as her clothes were tossed around the room carelessly, her skin was covered with a shining sheen of sweat as her delicious breasts bouncing with each solid thrust, each rapid breath, each amazing moment.

Corrin's whole world was stripped away as her mind, body and very soul was bound to the man currently impaling her with his magnificent dick, her body was being caressed in ways that stimulated her to an unexplainable point. She was unaware where she ended and he began, in this moment they were one entity, clashing and thrashing with reckless, sexual abandon.

"My Lord...Please don't stop!" Wailed the woman arching her back as ripples of ectasy flooded her body.

Menma suddenly pulled out and flipped the woman onto her side, pulling one leg over his shoulder and spearing into her deeper, Corrin's eyes widened in shock as she clenched her teeth at the more powerful intrusion, the speed had picked up considerably as she was letting out a continuous throaty moan.

This continued on for a few rounds until Menma ceased his actions, looking down at his sexual partner he saw her quickly leave the realm of consciousness, With a shrug he tossed his coat over her naked body and placed her on the couch of his new office, he needed that release quite badly actually. Whilst yes he had a lovely evening with Sylas the poor woman could barely keep up what with his natural stamina for such things after several years of experience, thus when he saw Corrin he pounced upon an opportunity.

Whilst yes he could no doubt lay with one of his Acolytes they didn't need to be broken in, Corrin did. She needed to know who was in charge and he needed a substantial release. Win-Win really. Though now Menma had to think of something to do with himself, as his Master had yet to request him for any jobs he was a little bored, his Acolytes had once more spread back out into the wilds, apparently Kory and Mjorin had gone hunting for the Ancient Dark Temple that sat deep within the jungles of Dromund Kaas, he did tell them to contact him before going in so he could join them, just to be on the safe side.

Menma supposed he could begin rifling through Zash's old information, but then again that was a job for a long period of free time, and he didn't know how much he had at the moment, drumming his fingers along his new desk he idly pondered the various things he'd suddenly gained in the short time he'd been apart of the Empire.

He'd gone from being a slave to a Acolytes, an Acolyte to a Apprentice and now he'd become a Sith Lord in under a month of his time in the Empire, suddenly he clicked his fingers and stood up, going into a room adjacent to his own he began looking over the various Holocrons Zash had in her possession and collected various ones that had the most practical skills to teach him, he did require a wider skillset, and something to teach his Acolytes and Apprentice's, this killed two birds with one stone.

Just as he was about to return to his seat with a pile of Holocrons in his arms he heard a hand knocking at his door, said object opened and revealed Darth Thanaton, Menma looked like a child who'd been caught raiding the cookie jar, the slightly startled expression actually amused Thanaton, whilst usually he would scold the young man for being caught unaware from the smell of the room and the state of the new Sith Lord's apprentice he could already tell why his mind was a little scattered at the moment.

"Ah, Darth Thanaton, to what do I own the pleasure, milord?" Asked Menma, nodding in Thanaton's direction in a small sign of respect to the mans status and power before setting the Holocrons on his desk and leaning against it. "I'd offer you a seat but its...Dirty at the moment." The small trickle of mirth that snaked its way into his eyes almost made the Dark Lord scoff in amusement, but he remained aloof.

"I just came to congratulate you on winning the Kaggath, personally. It is quite something, found as a slave and already a Lord not a month in, I believe great things will come from your presence in the Empire, Lord Archon." Praised Thanaton, and whilst the Council did not participate in 'the game' anymore, they did enjoy the odd amusement dipping their toes into it could provide until they had enough power to reconstruct the Empire on the massive scale they desired.

"Well thank you for taking the time out of your day to do so, my Lord." Replied the young man with a smile, "I hope I can assist the Empire to become better in anyway, be it slaughtering 'Pubs on a large scale, taking over planets with my...Charm. Or contributing to Sith Knowledge, I hope to make some contribution to my new home." Spoke Menma with a shrug, "Though I do expect a message from my Acolytes within the next few days so If you require something of me it'd be best to not take too long." Spoke Menma, typically would one speak like that to one of the Dark Council Members they would be struck down with great prejudice, if nothing else but to keep up appearances, but Thanaton knew they needed this young man to help them in changing the Empire, the poster boy for change if nothing else.

"Oh I have nothing for you at the moment, though I may take you up on that offer in the future." Spoke Thanaton, getting a nod from the Sith Lord as he returned to his seat, Thanaton took one more look around the room before nodding to the Feral Sith and leaving shortly after.

Menma's holo-com began beeping making the brunette sigh annoyedly, tapping the answer button he answered thusly, "Yes, how can I help you?" Without turning to see who had called him.

"I'll forgive that insolence for now as you have recently climbed the ladder, and allow you to bask in your recent achievement, but you are still my Apprentice." Spoke the voice of Baras, Menma turned his gaze to the small, blue hologram of his Master and nodded.

"Apologies Master, I was hoping to rifle through Zash's Holocrons, is there something I can do for you?" Asked Menma, sliding back into his role as apprentice, he was quite the experienced actor. And by actor he meant liar.

"I require you in my quarters at this moment, I have a task I need you to perform and it's much to sensitive to be given via com." Ordered Baras before his image blinked out and the com went silent. Menma gave out a low grunt of annoyance sliding out of his chair he made his way out of his room, casting one last glance at the sleeping face of his most recent lover, the small content smile on the white haired womans face did force one onto his own face, striding back over to her he knelt next to where she rested and placed a gentle kiss upon her forehead, running his hand over her cheek with a ghosts touch and listening to the small sigh that escaped her lips.

Once more turning to leave he idly spoke to himself, "Ah, so much for the hard-ass persona I've been protraying, I'm such a love-sick loser." He idly commented with a chuckle and a shake of his head, "Old habits die hard, I suppose." He idly looked up and to his right remember the many times he'd proffessed such profound emotions to his partners, typically he was rejected with great vigor.

He apparently was a great lover, but terrible boy-friend material. He allowed a bitter smile to line his face, hinted with a slight amount of malice and anger, "And they actually thought I'd stay friends with them after an insult like that, 'Oh I like fucking you, you're just a shitty person, friends 'Kay?' No bitch, no." He growled out, his words wreathed with rancor.

Kakashi always told him rejections stuck with your for quite a while, and he could easily attest to that theory, he still thought back from time to time and got a little worked up over how each of them thought so little of him.

"I really must stop dwelling in the past, It's purely chaotic for my mood." Spoke the Sith Lord to himself, idly adjusting his gauntlet to distract himself, pulling back his hood he dove a hand into his pouch, still faithfully located on his belt and plucked a single black hair tie from it and proceeded to tame his long mane into a manageable tail of black razors.

His pale skin was somewhat more pronounce under the lightning of the Citadel, something he didn't really appreciate, the lack of natural light did annoy his senses a great deal, mostly due to how unnaturally bright these things made everything.

Menma stepped into his Master's office only to hear the frustrated screams of the large Darth, "ARRRRRRRRRRRGH!" Came the unforgiving bellow of Baras, Menma almost outright laughed before he turned into the final room but quickly schooled his face, walking in he merely bowed his head slightly.

"You called for me, Master." Were his words, Baras however seemed to be ignoring him and kept screaming and raving like a madman.

"I cannot break him! Why can I not break you, pathetic little fool!" Roared the Sith, rage spilling from his every pore. Menma almost scoffed at the pathetic interrogation attempt, a few broken bones and cuts? Really, go home noob.

"Master." Spoke Menma, raising his voice ever-so-slightly forcing Baras' attention over to him, "Is this the reason you called me over?" Asked the Lord to the Darth, Baras' rage seemed to cool quite rapidly, replaced by faux relief.

"Ah, my faithful Apprentice. Yes, there is something you could do for me, there is something protecting this man, a great cloak in the Force protecting his mind from my probing. Unfortunately for him this leave me with one option, deep within the jungles of Dromund Kass sits the Dark Temple, where the Emperor buried his enemies and tortured those he hated, it is the seat of Dark Side Power on the planet. Within lies a device called the 'Ravager' with it the Emperor pulled secrets from all who were subjected to his dark power, from lowly slaves to mighty Darth's, none were free of the Ravager's power." Spoke Baras.

"And you want me to go get it." Interjected Menma, garnering a nod from his master. "Give me the co-ordinates and I'll head out." Spoke Menma, trying with all his might not to sigh at the pathetic attempts at interrogation, Ibiki would be rolling in his grave...If he was dead.

The point was he'd be really, really sad.

Menma watched Baras turn to his computer and immediately turned to the 'Pub soldier, he grabbed the mans head and began sucking the knowledge from his mind, the man made no visible attempts to stop him nor did he make any noise, the process could be as painless as Menma desired it to be.

This time he made sure to suck out only the information hidden in the Force Shroud, it was pretty easy what with him being essentially a glorified Force-Beast.

Jaessa Willsaam. Jedi Padawan under the Master Nomen Karr, Baras' old Rival apparently. Nomen Karr and Jaessa were currently heading towards a safe house on Hutta to avoid the larger part of Baras' network and to show off their findings to the Jedi Council.

Turns out Jaessa had an ability similar to his own though more focused on one thing, emotions and intent. Jaessa could see into the very soul of those around her, to see in they were lying, what alignment they were with, what they intended to do with/for her. All of it.

She was the perfect spy/anti-spy.

And he had to have her. She would be an invaluable asset or a dangerous foe, so he would bring her under his wing, he would have her, mind, body and soul. She would be his and his alone. Of this he was certain.

Menma turned the second he felt his Master remove his fingertips from the keys on his desk, his data-pad pinged with new information, Menma merely gave a bow, his arm across his chest as he did so, "I shall go, my Master." Spoke Menma with a shifting tone of obedience.

"If you fail, you can be replaced. Do try not to die, doing so would be bothersome." Spoke Baras, apparently his anger and frustration making him unable to act like his usual mask he wore around his Apprentice.

Menma hid a smirk and merely left the room.

"Disgusting little man." Were the outer thoughts of the Feral Sith Lord as he stalked out of the mans office and returning to his own, still his white haired Apprentice napped upon his couch, Khem stood in the first room aside Vette, both of whom were inspecting their weapons, the Twi'lek's cheeks were a slight more purple than usual.

"Come, we go to the Dark Temple." Spoke Menma, bidding them to his sides, Khem did so without hesitation, Vette took a moment to gather herself and sliding her pistols into their holsters. Menma locked up his office tight and nodded to himself, spinning on his heel he made his way towards the front of the Citadel.

Fishing out his Com he set up a call to Mjorin, within a few moments the Pureblood's image appeared, "My lord, is there anything I can do for you?" Spoke the red skinned male, Menma merely sent him the coordinates watching the Pureblood face palm in annoyance. "Am I to expect you there, milord?" Asked the Acolyte, garnering a silent nod from his Master.

Menma closed the communication and tilted his head over his shoulder, "I'll order a transport." He spoke curtly, garnering a nod from is Second and his weak Twi'lek.

"Bad mood again?" Asked Vette, crossed arms and leaning on her left leg.

"No, just apathetic mostly. Talking takes too much effort at the moment." Spoke Menma, in a clipped tone. With his eyes forward once more and his arms crossed behind his back.

"Don't know how...You just moved up into a new position of power. Isn't that something you Sith love?" Queried the Twi'lek.

Menma did not answer.

"Did he not just say he wishes to remain silent, little bug?" Spoke Khem with an annoyed glare, mostly because he enjoyed quiet himself, it allowed him to think and he enjoyed a good think from time to time.

"Quiet time, children." Spoke Menma icily. Vette almos shivered at the tone suddenly finding her boots very interesting.

A four person sky-car dropped next to them, Menma jumped in front with Khem and Vette taking the back, he floored it and shot directly into the air towards the Dark Temple.

No doubt someone would die a bloody death for his souring mood.

End of Chapter.

Short one this time lads and ladies.