The Path of Evil
Part 8
No Rest for the Wicked
A/N: A brief respite before we embark down to the planet of Hoth with our main characters. I know not all of you are fans of Sarith (Rathari), but I promise he's in here for reasons. His timeline isn't quite caught up, so let us take a little trip back in time to see how he got to be where he was last Wilde was at Shadow Keep, shall we?
9 Months earlier.
"The Crimson Nova is awarded only in the circumstance of heroic sacrifice in the name of the Shadow Guard and the Empire. Though Imperial heroes abound throughout the galaxy, those bearing this honor keep company only with their fellow dead. Only through gallant intrepidity and the ultimate sacrifice can the Nova be earned." Veruus'tal reverently lifted the meter-long sapphire box from the flag-draped coffin beside his lectern. Three Sith purebloods, two humans, and a twi'lek approached the Shadow Lord with measured steps. One of the humans, the only female in the group, stepped forward to accept the transparent box with the long, narrow shape of the blue-glowing Crimson Nova inside.
Sarith was only one of hundreds in attendance at the ceremony, but he felt the poignant pall that was draped so heavily over all of the Shadow Guards in the audience. After all, many of them there today including Sarith himself had arrived two days earlier on the SGS Pinnacle.
Veruus'tal continued, "in the 9th month of the 10th year ATC, Star Marshal Evad Novat gave that very sacrifice to save the lives of every man and woman onboard the SGS Pinnacle. His unmatched bravery, steadfast devotion to duty, and his sacrifice will never be forgotten. Let his name be inscribed in the Hall of Heroes Past and thus recorded for all time."
###
The weeks passed, and the training and missions continued while he was on Dromund Kaas. One day blended into the next, as the weeks blended into the days. Looking across the storm swept courtyard, he saw a robed figure emerge from the Nexus Room and start down the street. Hailstones the size of peas were rebounding from the durasteel surface of the road and beginning to blanket the ground as Sarith stepped into the storm to follow.
###
"Do not presume to speak to me of what constitutes a failure! I am a LORD of the Sith! I think I know best how to handle these situations. I will speak with your superior, NOW!" The trials for acceptance and promotion did not always go well for those born of privilege or those of significant standing among non-Shadow Guard Sith. This was one of those times.
"It does not work that way here, Initiate. Some failures are deeper than others, but in this case, you will be allowed to live. You have just not earned the right to bear the rank of SG3 and the title of Acolyte yet. You may be given another opportunity later."
The Initiate was left in an unconscious heap on the floor for his insolence, but he really should count himself lucky. In his time at Shadow Keep, Sarith had seen a number of experienced Sith attempt and fail to pass their trials here. Continued life was not always an option depending on the scope of the failure. Sometimes they would become one with Oblivion if their failures were great enough. To a man—or woman—they almost all underestimated the trials and overestimated their abilities and worth here. He saw and carefully analyzed each specific failure. He would not repeat their mistakes.
###
"And so, there are cases where the good of the Empire—the good of the Shadow Guard—becomes more important than your lives. More important than your individual survival. Just ask Star Marshal Novat. He was a true hero who knew when it was time to 'Forward the Empire' something that most of you will never truly know, as that sacred phrase will never have to pass your dying lips."
The grandeur of the Crystalline Hall rose up behind and around the speaker as he concluded his remarks. The room was not usually used for classes and presentations, but the sheer size of the audience for this one demanded a larger space. The storm of Oblivion's energy raced through the crystal windows set behind the speaker's podium lending even greater power to the lecture.
"You will each write a theoretical citation for your own Crimson Nova awards. Along with the citation, you will detail the final solution sets and the potential events that could lead to you receiving this most prestigious of awards. These items are due to your military philosophy instructors at the end of the week. Do. Not. Fail. Me."
Shadow Lord Moraad stepped from the dais and marched from the room as the crowd scrambled to make a path ahead of his crushing aura of pain, sorrow, and despair that whispered dark promises for those who did dare to fail.
###
The Apprentice to Sarith's left asked for a moment of the instructor's time. They stepped to the far side of the room and spoke in hushed tones, but Sarith's cybernetically enhanced hearing could easily make out the Apprentice's complaints. "Why must we learn the Light Side techniques, My Lord…and more importantly, why are we teaching them to the Acolytes? These are the ways of our enemies! The ways of the Jedi!"
"Then have you not answered your own question, Antom? You must learn to know your enemy if you seek to crush them completely. Do you think the Jedi do not embrace the rage and the hatred that makes the Sith so strong? Of course they do, they have just been lying so easily about it for so many centuries that they believe their own perjuries."
"Then can't we just learn about them rather than learning the actual techniques?"
"Antom, you are still not grasping the full depth of what is intended here. What we are teaching you are things that will be useful as we slaughter those who seek to oppose us. Imagine the horror Jedi would feel as they watched their own disciplines used to eviscerate the lives of their friends, their lovers. Force Healing? One, it might be useful to you or your comrades if you are injured, but if you alter the Force matrix ever so slightly…what if the valves of someone's heart "healed" closed?"
Antom's eyes widened in sudden realization. "I begin to understand master. These are not the ways of the weak, but rather the ways of the strong to destroy the weak; sometimes with their own weapons."
"Good, now teach what you have just learned to the acolytes then report to Chief Novresh's office for your punishment. I thought you knew better than to question your superiors."
Sarith made note of the information for later. More mistakes that he would not make.
###
Sarith's blade whirled around his spinning body and came down through the battle droid's forward sensor array as he landed amid the mountains of junked droids and robotic arms hanging from the invisible ceiling. The chiss lieutenant in charge of this training areas, Rhook, walked to the center of the hazard area to congratulate Sarith on the top combat score in his competitive class. "Your skills are far greater than when you came to us just a few months ago. I programmed these droids to be above the skill level of all the Acolytes at the Keep. It looks like I missed one! But don't worry, Sarith, with the data gathered during this fight, the next time you set foot in here, they will not be so easily defeated."
"Easily!? They almost killed me, Lieutenant!" Rhook looked over the Acolyte with his ruby gaze and maintained his neutral expression as he noted the numerous cuts and punctures. Some were deep into the muscle, and blood was flowing quite freely from a slash to his hip.
"But they did not. As I suspected you would, you survived. If I enhance the combatants to adapt to your skills and techniques, you had better adapt as well. In here, if you die, you die. You did indeed take some injury this time, but I suspect you will live. As I said…top of your class, congratulations. MEDIC!"
###
Coruscant. Why did it have to be Coruscant? Like most Sith, he had a healthy hatred for Coruscant. He had landed on the planet three days ago, and somehow the damnable Jedi had discovered his plans. No, not discovered, they had been waiting for him.
On the bright side, his objectives were accomplished. The senator was framed, the Republic officers involved in the real operation were dead, and the two prisoners had been freed. They were safely off world; which was more than Sarith could say for himself.
His lightsaber and other equipment was on a table across the room and he was enjoying a nice cozy disruption cage. He could see the door to the hallway, his Jedi keeper seated at a desk beside the portal – attempts to rile her up long since abandoned. She was human, with pale skin, long jagged scars running from each corner of her mouth toward her ears, black hair and deep blue eyes. She came in for her shift, spoke briefly to the Jedi she relieved, walked over to his cell – giving him a frigid once over – and returned to her desk, ignoring his jibes.
He knelt in his cage, hands resting on his thighs, silent. The lights in the room dimmed momentarily. The Jedi didn't seem to notice. He rubbed his eyes and stared at her back, wondering if she could feel it. The lights dimmed again. A brief flicker as if the energy relays were having issues. Sarith frowned, watching the lights more closely.
Another flicker, stronger and longer. Still, his Jedi warden seemed unperturbed. Strange.
The door opened and a young Jedi apprentice stepped into the room, laying some large envelopes on the desk and offering a datapad for his jailer to sign. She did so, without a word, and the apprentice left. He thought, just for a moment, he saw the slight shimmer of a stealth field in the hallway outside. The lights dimmed again, the female Jedi finally looking up from her computer monitor.
The door opened again and a hooded Jedi entered, stood next to the desk, and looked at him. At least, he assumed they were looking at him. It was difficult to see their line of sight with that deep hood obscuring all facial features. His guard nodded at the Jedi, taking a datapad from... her? The silhouette of the new Jedi now seemed more feminine to him.
The lights flickered erratically, and with an audible snap went out all together. The emergency lighting kicked in with a soft hum, bathing everything in a dull orange. Both Jedi were gone. Like ghosts. Sarith, stood, staring at where they'd been, frowning. What in the name of the Emperor was going on?
He heard a sizzle and a strobe of white light came from the security cameras shorting out.
"Oh look," said a smoky female voice from behind and to the right, "can't trust anything electronic these days with all these brown outs."
Sarith turned, seeing his jailer standing there, a remote EMP device in her hand.
She smiled brightly at him, a complete one-eighty from earlier. "We heard a dashing Sith was in need of some damsels."
"Karamila, stop flirting and help me with the cell override," came a frustrated female voice from the far left of the room.
Karamila flashed him a dazzling smile and held up her index finger at him. "Be back in one tick." She walked her eyes slowly down the length of his body suggestively before tearing herself away and joining the hooded Jedi where she was messing with the cell control panels. A few of the large switches were pulled and another sizzle effectively terminated the cage's disruption field.
Reaching in one of her pockets, the hooded Jedi walked over to him and pulled out his lightsaber, which had been on the other table just moments before. She tossed it at him, and he caught it. She and Karamila then flashed the Shadow Guard hand signal at him. Some tension leaked out of him and he returned the signal.
The unknown female reached up and lowered her hood. She was a Pureblood. Even in the strange lighting he could see her deep red skin, black hair, and bright yellow eyes. He stared at her, probably longer than was socially acceptable.
She smiled at him, golden eyes amused. "I am called Khismet, this is Karamila. I apologize that we could not tell you about setting you up for your 'capture' earlier. One of our operatives went dark early this morning, and we had to improvise quickly." She had a fruity, yet quiet, voice - no hint of the Imperial accent.
"Many thanks, ladies," he replied.
Karamila winked at him, sashaying over to the holding table and gathering the rest of his equipment up. She brought it over to him with an undisguised look of smoky seduction.
"Now, comes the hard part," Khismet said as he redressed. "We need to make this look like the brown out was what caused your cell to malfunction, which we did, mostly."
"Mostly," he repeated.
"What would you do, normally, if you were trying to escape?" She prompted.
He looked at her and Karamila and nodded. "I'd make sure I wasn't followed."
"I already cleared your path to the main concourse," Khismet said. She looked down at a wrist computer. "'A' and 'C' say you have less than five minutes to get from here to there before the system resets itself." She walked back over to the desk, kneeling.
Karamila followed, thwacking her in the back of the head. Khismet slumped to the floor.
Karamila smiled, "Taking one for the team. Yay. Your turn to incapacitate me, big man. Then off to freedom." She flashed him another smile while swaying her body suggestively before adding, "Maybe next time, we can meet under less…hurried…circumstances."
He shook his head and grasped her in a Force choke, letting go just as she lost consciousness. He stepped over their bodies and ran.
###
Shadow Lord Moraad finished rereading the Crimson Nova citation resting on his desk for the third time. He was quiet for a time before addressing Lord Tyree, Shadow Keep's dean of philosophy. "The student who wrote this, where is he now?"
"He is on assignment to Taris, my lord."
"I see. You were right to bring this to me directly, Lord Tyree. As you suspected, it carries the definitive waft of Farsight. You asked the acolyte about his work when you noticed that it was aberrant, yes?"
"Of course, Lord Moraad. The student says that he recalls completing the assignment, but when I probed further, he claimed to not recall any of the details of what he wrote."
"Indeed. Do not be too harsh with the young man, Villham, I do not suspect he spoke to deceive. I don't imagine he had any idea that he was doing anything out of the ordinary when he wrote this. And being untrained in Farseeing, it is not unusual for him to not remember the event."
"How certain do you think these events are to come to pass?"
The Shadow Lord's crimson eyes flicked once more to the Crimson Nova citation. "The future is always shifting, my friend…but these events are highly specific and described with perfect clarity…it is impossible to say. Nonetheless, I am to be notified immediately anytime that Acolyte Sarith is within 1200 parsecs of Korriban."
###
Sarith sat on the edge of the bed calmly pulling his boots on in stark contrast to the calamity of the room about him. The heel of one tall black synthleather boot was actually embedded in the soft material of the ceiling while its twin could be seen peeking from behind the headboard of the bed. One of the lights was flickering from its cracked lighting surface, a set of shelves lie in a heap where they were torn from the wall, the short coffee table was completely overturned, the couch rested on its back, a hole the size of a bar stool seat was burned through the wall near the door, some of the drawers on the dresser were pulled out, others were on the floor, and the covers for the bed were balled up in the corner of the room.
You get the idea. In short, it looked like an angry Rancor was let loose in the room to inflict maximum devastation.
"I have…never…thought to use the Force like that…" The breathless, naked woman on the bed stretched her arms over her head and closed her eyes as a satisfied smile saturated her delicate features. Her medium length auburn hair was matted, disarrayed and definitely moist with no small amount of sweat where a stray lock stuck to one side of her pretty face.
Rolling onto her side, she slid one bare foot up her leg and smiled at her lover. "Do you have such pressing Sith business that you have to go now? Not even time for one more…" She left the sentence incomplete and put on her best impish smile to go with the deep emerald of her eyes. She clearly knew her own beauty and the power it gave her over men.
Rising to his feet, Sarith stomped each foot twice to settle his boots in place and walked to the toppled couch. Thana Vesh's hastily discarded gray armorplast belt was draped over one of the couch's exposed wooden legs. Touching one of the activation studs on the belt, a code cylinder popped out with a quiet hiss.
The satisfied look swept immediately off her face, and her features contorted from radiant and glowing to bitter and severe. The rage that stormed across her face was a frightful sight on its own, and on a Sith warrior it was certainly lethal. "You…" The venom in her voice was nearly palpable as she realized that Sarith's true intentions were to steal the data on the Viscount's kidnapping scheme. "Put that down in the next ten microseconds, and I might let you keep some of your limbs." She struck fast and hard with the Force, but Sarith's eyes flashed casually in her direction and his counterstroke quashed her assault with what seemed to be zero effort. Her body pressed down into the bed forming a deep indentation where his Force net was pinning her tightly down.
"It's pathetic how easily I made you into my cheap whore, Thana…no not even cheap. Eager. Oh, and thanks for disposing of the pregnant nun from that local convent too. She was next on my list when I learned that she had spoken to the witness' masseuse, but you saved me the trouble. I am sure her Jedi father is glad that he won't have to explain to the council how she came to be carrying his child too."
Frothing at the mouth she was so furious, Thana Vesh spit out a string of what were very likely in the top ten most vile invectives ever hurled since the invention of cursing. Her rapid fire rage shot forth like a turbo laser battery and continued unabated until Sarith shocked her into unconsciousness and left her lying there in nothing but her flawless, rich-girl skin.
###
After completing his business on Taris, he had been recalled to Dromund Kaas once more. A pity. Lord Wildescent had been on her way to Taris as he was leaving. He had hoped to assist her if their paths ever crossed, but this time, it was not to be. Hopefully, Wildescent would not have to deal with Thana Vesh while on world as Thana was likely to be in a particularly sour mood after her course handling. Oh well, he was sure Wildescent could manage it.
Besides, he had worries of his own at the moment.
He was on his knees on the dirt floor with large chains wrapped and locked around his shoulders and chest. Fastened securely to the other end of the chains was a six meter cube of rough cut stone. Ahead of him was a double row of Shadow Guardians: Apprentices and Lords, Sergeants and Captains, Operatives and Lieutenants, and farther along the line a General, a High Lord, and Admiral Samulous. No one lower than the rank of SG4 was present in the chamber.
The voice of Shadow Lord Veruus'tal boomed through the chamber seemingly from all directions. "This Acolyte came to us on bended knee, and now kneels once more to beg for advancement to the rank of Apprentice."
Something was wrong with this, but Sarith knew nothing about how to proceed. He supposed he was not supposed to know. What had his lessons taught him? What had he learned from the mistakes of others? "I beg of no one!"
The hint of a smile could be heard in Veruus'tal's voice then, "Is that so? Then rise, Acolyte and step forward." A faint red glow was starting at the far end of the chamber at the end of the line of Shadow Guardians, and in the glow three robed figures on a raised dais were just barely outlined.
The gauge of the chains wrapping around him was larger than his fist, and each link had to weigh more than twenty kilos. Altogether, he had to lift about four times his own weight in iron just to rise from his knees, but rise he did. Then, as commanded, he took a step forward. The red glow ahead of him grew a little brighter.
"Peace is a lie; there is only passion. For the truths you have learned, step forward."
Another step and more of the chains trailing behind him lifted from the ground adding to his strain. The three figures in the red glow were now clearly visible in the brightening light.
"Through passion, you gain strength. For the strength you have gained, step forward."
Sarith took that step, but only with supreme effort. The last of the slack in the chains was now gone, as they hung suspended between him and the stone block. Sweat was starting to bead on his forehead with the effort.
"Through strength, you gain power. Do you have the power to take another step? Step forward."
Summoning and concentrating his will into the Force, he focused on strengthening his body. With a growling grunt and a tremor of exertion, he strained against the chains where they vibrated under the tension. The cybernetics in his legs whined with the strain as his feet tore into the hard dirt floor. Slowly the block began to move, its leading edge biting deeply into the dirt. Sweat now carving rivulets down his face, he stepped forward. The glow surrounding the dais was very bright now creating a glorious nimbus around the three figures overseeing the ceremony.
"Through power, you gain victory. You have tasted victory and known defeat. Do you now bear the wisdom to claim victory today?"
Wisdom? How was wisdom going to move this mountain? It was ludicrous. He was strong, and he would persevere. Pulling in even more of the Force, he tried to focus on making the block light enough to pull with his enhanced strength. His sweat was flowing freely now and beginning to soak through his Acolyte robes. Just as he felt the weight of the block start to lessen, the Force was wrenched from his grasp. What was this?! Moving the block without the Force was completely impossible!
"You have robbed me of the only possible means of stepping forward. Twenty men could not pull this block…it is impossible."
"If that is what you believe, then you are correct," Veruus'tal said in measured tones. Not disappointed. Not sad. Just fact. The three figures on the Dais raised one hand each toward him and the block of stone slid back to its original position dragging him with it. He fell to his knees under the weight of the chains and the thought of moving the block again. Looking up, the glow around the dais had died back down to just a faint aura.
"Adversity is intrinsic to the universe, you will overcome it or it will overcome you." As if he had not said it once already, Veruus'tal began again, "Rise Acolyte Sarith, and step forward."
Knees straightened and the step was taken. The glow brightened. The sweat of his exertion dripped into the torn dirt at his feet.
"Peace is a lie; there is only passion. For the truths you have learned, step forward."
Another step, the chains trailing behind again lifting from the ground trying to drag him down. The glow ahead stronger still.
"Through passion, you gain strength. For the strength you have gained, step forward."
Sarith strained against the weight, muscles and cyber-servos working together, and stepped forward. The chains again hung suspended between him and the stone block.
"Through strength, you gain power. Do you have the power to take another step? Step forward."
Drawing on the Force, he added its strength to his muscles, his bones, and his machine parts. With a great heave, he strained forward, his feet ripping deeper into the floor. Just as slowly as before, the block drug itself forward pushing a large mound of dirt ahead of it. Sweat poured freely from his body, but he stepped forward. The glow surrounding the dais was again as bright as a pending dawn.
"Through power, you gain victory. You have tasted victory and known defeat. Do you now bear the wisdom to claim victory today?"
Just as before, the Force was denied him. In frustration he shouted toward the roof of the chamber, "No one man can move this burden! You ask for what cannot be done!" Then in a defeated whisper, "you don't want me to succeed."
The three hands raised, and the block slid inexorably back to where it began as the glow once more faded. The voice of Evolent came to him from beside Veruus'tal, "You do not have to proceed, Sarith. Just say the word, and the trial will end."
"NEVER!" Sarith lurched to his feet without waiting for the words to be spoken.
"Peace is a lie; there is only passion. For the truths you have learned, step forward."
He had stepped forward before the phrase was complete and was already taking his next step.
"Through passion, you gain strength. For the strength you have gained, step forward."
The slack in the chains gone, he continued to strain forward without waiting for the words. The sweat pouring from him churned the dirt at his feet to mud.
"Through strength, you gain power. Do you have the power to take another step? Step forward."
The Force had always brought him one step farther but no more. He called the power and pulled the stone block toward the dais, as the red light ahead called to him, begged him to come to it.
"Through power, you gain victory. You have tasted victory and known defeat. Do you now bear the wisdom to claim victory today?"
"The adversity of my yoke is too great…" He strained against the chains, deprived of the Force, his cybernetics whining to higher and higher pitches of effort. "The burden is… too heavy…" The three hooded figures seemed to sag a little at these words from their Acolyte. Their hands began to raise again.
"It IS too heavy for me! Shadow Guard has taught me that no man stands alone in these walls! Then why do you now stand there and watch me toil! This is not what I thought it meant to be Shadow Guard!" The three on the dais paused at these words. Tears of frustration and anger welled up within him as everything he had learned since coming here seemed to betray him in the eyes of his fellows watching him fail again and again. "Being Shadow Guard means more than one man alone against the galaxy…this trial goes against everything I have come to believe!"
Sarith fell again to his knees, his tears falling freely at his feet, but before he could collapse completely, there were strong hands under his arms pulling him back up. "We are indeed more than one man against the galaxy, my friend." Admiral Samulous was there taking his arm and some of the chains onto his own shoulder. The General was on his other side also taking some of the chains. Looking back, he saw that every Shadow Guardian present had moved forward and were bracing themselves to push the block forward.
Veruus'tal's voice boomed forth triumphantly, "The wisdom is yours, Acolyte. Step forward!"
With the might of the Shadow Guard behind him, he stepped forward easily, the giant stone cube plowing forward half a meter at a time. Step after step, it followed him and his brothers and sisters of the guard.
"Through victory, your chains are broken."
The chains fell free from his shoulders and clanked to the ground at his feet.
"The Force shall set you free, but I fear you not wearing the correct attire…"
Those gathered around him reached in and each took a handful of his apprentice robes and, as one, ripped them to shreds and pulled them from his body. His heavily muscled limbs glistened with dripping sweat and the steel of his exposed cybernetics running in wide strips down the outsides of both his legs and his arms gave off waves of vented heat. More cybernetics ran down the center of his chest and belted his waist and groin.
Evolent took a step forward with a neatly folded bundle in her arms "Emperor's blood, Sarith, don't stand there naked at your own promotion ceremony! Get these Apprentice robes on!" The bundle she threw at him smacked him in the face as she made a show of hiding her eyes.