625 BBY; 2 years later…
The ship reached its destination, and Vrehk prepared himself.
He'd been meditating in his quarters for the last few hours, the way his master taught him. Channeling the power of the Dark Side helped focus his mind and energize his body. Despite this, Vrehk still felt nervousness slithering through his tissues. He had no idea what this next test would involve. Memories of trials on worlds like Hoth, Tatooine, Ziost, and others floated to the surface. Those excursions had been for the purpose of a single lesson. His master had hinted this test was far greater than the norm.
"This will be a challenge that tests your resolve," Perdition told him back on Kuat. "A Sith must constantly face adversity, lest he become complacent. By facing danger and death, we force ourselves to adapt and become stronger. The Jedi preach the ways of peace and acceptance. That way only leads to ruin."
The seventeen year-old had been progressing quite well in his training. The different forms of lightsaber combat were becoming second nature to him, his grasp already greater than any Jedi's. He could only think of them in contempt. They were nothing but diplomats with lightsabers, unwilling to seek the true power of the Force. He was a warrior, a killer. In time, he'd be able to crush any one of them like a boot crushing an insect.
But he couldn't crush the entire hive. Sheer numbers would defeat him, not matter how powerful or skilled he became. As his master taught, it would take subtlety and cunning to exterminate their enemies.
In the midst of his meditation, Vrehk felt the almost imperceptible sensation of the ship vibrating. He opened his eyes, knowing they'd just come out of hyperspace. Uncrossing his legs, he stood and made his way to the ship's bridge. The light freighter had been designed to comfortably fit a crew of six, but he and his master were the only occupants. Darth Perdition sat in the pilot's seat, operating the controls.
Through the viewport, Vrehk saw the large disc of their destination world. Largely green, with countless seas and oceans breaking up the landmasses. Kashyyyk was an ancient world, full of life. As the homeworld of the Wookiees, it had endured through centuries of bloodshed and change on a galactic scale. In Revan's time, the natives had been enslaved by the greedy Czerka Corporation until a popular uprising drove them off. It had also been a battlefield during the New Sith Wars.
Vrehk looked at Perdition, who said nothing as be brought the ship into Kashyyyk's atmosphere. He wanted to say something, but his master's silence prompted him to keep his mouth shut.
Flying over the continent-spanning jungles, they landed on a beach at an isolated inlet. Rocks surrounded the whole thing, obscuring them from sight. Perdition unstrapped himself from the seat and walked out of the cockpit. Vrehk followed him to the boarding ramp. Once it lowered, he stepped down onto the white sand of the beach. A brisk ocean breeze whipped at his black shirt and pants as the foamy tide advanced and retreated. Ahead towered the colossal Wroshyr trees. While the ones closer to shore weren't as large, the trees further inland often reached kilometres into the sky. Whole cities and communities lived in their hollowed out trunks or on beds of interconnected branches.
Perdition, still standing at the top of the ramp, said, "This is your next trial, apprentice. You will venture into the forest and be tested. Strength alone will not be enough. Adaptability, cunning, forethought. These are the tools necessary to brave the dangers of this place."
Vrehk nodded. He stared into the space between the massive tree trunks. The overhead canopies seemed to smother any visible light, creating an arboreal underworld that threatened to swallow any intruder into its depths. "What's in there?"
"Only what you take with you," Perdition replied. "I will return to this place in one month. You must survive and return here when I come for you."
A whole month. Vrehk felt a twinge of fear, then quickly snuffed it out. He was the apprentice of Darth Perdition, heir to the legacy and power of the Sith Lords. The stories told of vicious predators that roamed the Shadowlands –as the land at the base of the trees was called— in search of prey. It was a hostile place, full of danger at every turn. The local plant life and animals had perfected the art of death in a myriad of ways.
"I understand, master."
"This is not only a test of survival," Perdition warned. "It is also a test of your ability to blend in when there is risk of discovery. While the Wookiees rarely venture into the Shadowlands, some risk it for a hunt. Others may be exiled down there for whatever crimes warrant such punishment. None of them must know of your presence here."
Vrehk turned to face his master and bowed. "I will not fail you, master. I swear it in the name of Darth Bane."
Perdition kept a neutral expression. "We shall see." He raised the boarding ramp without another word. Vrehk took a few steps back as the freighter's engines powered up. It lifted off the beach, swung around, then climbed back up towards the atmosphere. He watched the ship for a few moments as it shrank. Eventually it disappeared altogether, and Vrehk was alone.
He took a deep breath, exhaling it between clenched teeth. The forest loomed before him, but he did not feel afraid. Steeling himself, he started walking forward. He took long, purposeful strides, crossing the distance quickly.
The sunlight only lasted a quarter of an hour, giving way to darkness. Vrehk was unperturbed. He'd spent enough time training and fighting in the dark to develop an attuned sense of awareness. He stepped over buried tree roots and weaved through patches of durasteel-strong Kshyy vines with little difficulty. From the first moment he entered the forest, he felt 100 eyes on him.
He sensed the caution radiating from most of them. They couldn't tell if this interloper was predator or prey. At one point, after he'd leaped across a wide chasm leading down to an underground river, he heard a flock of birds flapping overhead as they fled from him. A few minutes after that, He noticed a group of diminutive Tach atop a small hill. The simians regarded him with curiosity, turning their wide heads from side to side. Vrehk reached out with the Force and snapped the neck of the closest Tach. The rest screeched and howled in fright, scattering in all directions. He pulled the corpse into his open hand. The creature didn't have all that much meat on its bones, but it'd be a decent enough meal.
Just as he took another step, his breath hitched as he sensed imminent danger through the Force.
He looked up as something detached from an overhanging tree branch with an audible plop. It fell towards him, and he sensed the object was organic. Waving a hand, he knocked the creature off its original trajectory. It landed on the ground, giving him the opportunity for a closer look. Almost as large as he was, it had the soft, gelatinous body of a slug. It wriggled and rolled where it laid. The slug's underside was covered with little holes and patches of darker-coloured dermis. Vrehk wrinkled his nose upon detecting a foul, pungent aroma wafting from the slug. Juices leaked from the holes, and when they dripped onto the ground, the dirt sizzled. Acid of some sort.
"Not that much of a threat," Vrehk said, relaxing his stance. Such a creature wasn't dangerous to someone like him if it could be so easily swatted aside. Despite this, his sense of danger still remained.
He then heard a series of plops.
Several more slugs, varying in size, detached from their branches and fell towards him. Vrehk realized his error in judgement as they rained down on him. Using the Force, he formed a barrier between him and the slugs. Some bounced off and landed in the dirt. Others, especially the larger ones dwarfing him in size, were more troublesome. He moved forward, twisting and dodging the acid-producing creatures. His barrier wouldn't be able to keep them at bay for long.
One of them managed to slip through and land on his outstretched right arm. Vrehk dropped the Tach corpse as the slug latched itself to him. His shirt sleeve sizzled as it melted in seconds. Vrehk screamed in agony as the acid began to burn through his skin. The slug pulsed and throbbed as it drank in his liquefied flesh. His arm dropped to his side as the pain took away all function. Given enough time, the slug would melt and eat his entire arm. In that kind of weakened state, he'd be vulnerable to the rest of its kind. His life would come to an end, forgotten.
But with pain also came anger.
Vrehk's hatred grew. Hatred of the slug eating his arm, of the other creatures that would kill him in a heartbeat. Most of all, hatred of his master for leaving him here like a forgotten pet. The logical part of his mind recognized Perdition's decision would ultimately make him greater. But he didn't need logic right now. He needed rage. Vrehk fed on the maelstrom of emotion within himself, using it to fuel his power.
Tilting his head back, he bellowed a Force-powered scream of pure malicious intent. It bloomed out of him like a pulse of hatred given physical form, hurling all the other slugs away. He turned his attention back to the one on his arm. Focusing his will, he channeled the raw, destructive energy of the Dark Side. The day Perdition took him as an apprentice was the day he'd used the Force to drain the life from the two pirates to murder his grandfather.
"The Dark Side offers countless gifts," Perdition once told him. "But it does have certain…deficiencies. It doesn't offer most of the healing arts. That is the way of the Light Side and the Jedi. But the Dark Side presents another option: life taken for life given. We can sap the living energy from other beings and draw it into ourselves to repair all manner of injuries. You, my apprentice, are especially gifted in this. Your proclivity for Force Bonding gives you a unique access to living beings. You have the power to drain life. Use it. If an ordinary being is sacrificed for your continued existence, then so be it. We are superior, and the lesser beings exist to serve our ends."
Still drawing on the Dark Side, Vrehk imagined his grandfather. He pictured Chocoth's face, the alcohol in his breath, the arrogant sneer on his face. The power swelled within him. He focused on the slug, reaching out to it through the Force. Once he grasped it, he severed its connection to the Force, to life. The slug gave a bone-chilling wail as Vrehk drank the resulting burst of dark energy into himself. The slug shrank as the fluids drained from its body. It became a desiccated, empty husk. At the same time, Vrehk used the stolen life to mend his mangled arm. Bones reset as tissues and skin regrew.
Everything below the elbow tingled, and not in a bad way, as he repaired the damage. The slug released its hold as it shrivelled, then finally crumbled into dust. Vrehk blew the dust off, then took a moment to inspect his arm. The skin was intact, but a wrinkled, gnarly burn mark covered the skin from elbow to wrist. That would have to heal naturally. Perhaps it never would.
Exhaling, Vrehk picked up the Tach corpse and resumed walking. The Shadowlands issued their first challenge, and he'd survived. He would survive the rest. Adapt or perish; that was the way of the Dark Side.
Vrehk sat cross-legged on the ground. He took the last piece of cooked meat from the Tach he'd killed and ate it. As he chewed, he stared down at the small fire he'd lit with lightning. It had been six days since his trial began. In that time, he'd taken residence in an abandoned cave formed under the large roots of a Wroshyr tree. The first two days after he arrived were marked by random beast attacks. He'd driven them off easily enough, establishing himself as a top predator in this merciless ecosystem.
The other four had been devoted to meditation and practice. He still bore an extensive burn mark across his right arm, but that was a badge of honour. Proof he'd overcome a deadly threat. Absent any vibroblades or traditional weapons, Vrehk had improvised. Finding a tree branch of proper thickness and length, he spent a few days shaping it with a sharpened stone. He smoothed the edges, forming it into a quarterstaff.
In the course of his sparring and weapons training, he'd begun to learn about the various weapon types employed by Force users. Most Sith and Jedi used a single lightsaber. A smaller number used twin blades, and an even rarer subset used the lethal double-bladed variety.
The ancient Sith Lord, Exar Kun, had been the most notable wielder of such a weapon. Kas'im, a Sith Lord in the Brotherhood of Darkness, was another. The Twi'lek had been Darth Bane's greatest teacher before the creation of the Rule of Two. While he'd ultimately been slain by his pupil for clinging to the heretical beliefs of the brotherhood, it was his knowledge and expertise in lightsaber combat that marked him as a great Sith Lord. That knowledge had been passed down through the Bane line, and Vrehk endeavoured to commit himself to it with the same fervor.
So, for five hours each day for the last four days, he practiced with the quarterstaff. Adapting the techniques of the various lightsaber forms from single-bladed use to double-bladed took much skill and dedication. But Vrehk was eager to master every aspect of the lightsaber.
While at first glance it seemed an inferior weapon, the quarterstaff served him well. He could use the Force to strengthen the wood, to the point where it could shatter stone and carve through flesh. When a flock of predatory birds attacked him, he used his weapon to crush their bodies with precise jabs and sweeping strikes. They were excellent moving targets, and Vrehk drew some satisfaction with every crunch of bone and beak.
He swallowed the piece of meat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The Tach would have served as barely a single meal for most beings. Vrehk had made it last six days. He sustained himself through meditation, feeding on the Dark Side to keep himself strong.
Now, his time in the cave was ended. His master would not be pleased if he returned after huddling safe in one place the whole time. He needed to keep moving, to face whatever challenges the Shadowlands presented. Sweeping dirt onto the fire to smother it with his boot, he picked up his quarterstaff and left the cave behind. Having no compass or positioning device on hand, he had no idea which direction he traveled. But he didn't mind. The Force guided him, and that was all he needed.
Vrehk walked for nearly twenty minutes before he encountered another predator.
Sensing the approach of a dozen lifeforms, he held the quarterstaff back in a one-handed grip, angled forwards, with his other hand held up. Soresu, the Way of the Mynock, was the third form of lightsaber combat. It emphasized tight bladework and subtle dodges to create an impenetrable barrier of defense. Masters of this form were said to be impervious to damage in battle.
Vrehk maintained his stance as he spun on his heel, peering into the darkness around him. A few seconds later, several yellow-brownish arachnids appeared all around him. They scuttled on four thin legs, with cylindrical bodies and beady eyes. He knew they were called Kinrath, a common species found on this world and a few others.
One of them spat a trio of venomous barbs at his chest, no doubt meant to debilitate him so they could feed on his body. Vrehk, seeing each barb in a flash of precognition, moved his quarterstaff faster than the naked eye could see to catch each barb. They fired two more volleys, which he also blocked. He sensed confusion in the arachnids. They'd never come across a creature like him that could foil their attack in such a way. Relying on their primitive instincts, they let loose threatening chitters and rushed him.
Vrehk smiled, eager to oblige them. He switched to Ataru, the Way of the Hawk-Bat. The fourth form of lightsaber combat had quickly become one of his favourites. It relied on Force-powered acrobatics and fast attacks from all directions. Jumping into the air, Vrehk lunged at the nearest Kinrath. His quarterstaff drove clean through its face, drawing sickly yellow blood. Landing on his feet, he withdrew his weapon then spun in a sideways somersault above another Kinrath that tried to attack him from the side. With a sweeping strike, he pulverized the creature's head into a bloody pulp.
He quickly slew three more Kinrath, then reached out and crushed another with the Force. Two of the arachnids tried to attack, but he drove them back with little difficulty. It was only at the last possible second he sensed a third leaping at him from behind. He brought his weapon up just as it knocked him onto his back with a screech.
The Kinrath tried to stab him in the face with the poisonous appendage protruding from its face. Vrehk blocked it with his quarterstaff, and it drove into the dirt. The Kinrath hissed at him, pulling the appendage out of the ground. It tried to stab him again, but missed. Vrehk looked up at the branches and canopies above. A cluster of Kshyy vines hung nearby, and he got an idea. Keeping a firm grip on his quarterstaff, he reached out with the Force and pulled one of the vines over to him. They were as strong as durasteel, nigh-unbreakable, and regrew fast. He wrapped the vine around the Kinrath's body, tied it in a knot, then yanked it high above the ground. It kicked and flailed, but could not break
Vrehk pushed himself to his feet.
Six more remained, flexing their poisonous appendages in a threat display. Having enough of them, Vrehk plunged his mind into the boiling core of Dark Side power in his heart. Extending his left hand, he cast several bolts of red lightning at two of the Kinrath. They shrieked as their skin blistered and their organs melted. Sith Lightning was no ordinary phenomenon; it was concentrated hate that had the power to disfigure and mutilate its victims.
The two Kinrath dropped to the ground, dead, seconds after being hit. The remaining four seemed to finally realize this new creature was too much trouble. They turned and scuttled into the darkness.
Once more, Vrehk felt the companionship of silence. The forest watched him constantly, sending threats to test his mettle, but now it knew he would not die easily.
Vrehk panted, coming down from the heights of Dark Side power. He appraised the scene of slaughter, looking at each of the dead Kinrath. The arachnids' greatest advantages were numbers and surprise. He'd neutralized those with speed and Force-enhanced senses. In this abyss of death and pure savagery, Vrehk was establishing himself to be an apex predator. None could match his might or skill.
He took two steps forward, when he remembered the Kinrath hanging from the Kshyy vines. It still struggled, lacking the higher brain function to realize it was trapped. With a disdainful gesture, Vrehk snapped its neck and left the corpses behind.
Over the next three days, he endured six Kinrath assaults. Each time they attacked with no less than a dozen drones. This area could have been their hunting ground, or perhaps he'd inadvertently encroached on their nest. He could care less about the reasons. All that mattered was their continued interference. The first attacks he brushed aside with ease. But they kept coming, always able to replenish their losses. Powerful as he was, Vrehk began to understand the simple elegance of using numbers to overwhelm one's prey. The Force may be infinite, but his ability to draw upon it wasn't.
During the fifth attack, his reflexes slowed a fraction of a second. Enough to miss one of the Kinrath's venomous barbs. It struck him in the shoulder. While he barely felt the barb, the toxins coating it were another matter. He felt them entering his bloodstream, snaking into his tissues in an effort to paralyze him. But he would not be helpless. He'd been helpless all his life until Darth Perdition took him in.
No. More.
In his studies, Vrehk had come across techniques used by the ancient Sith to guard against poisons. If one were aware of a deadly substance entering their body, they could eliminate it with the power of the Dark Side before any permanent damage could be wrought. Focusing his power inward, Vrehk burned the Kinrath toxins just as his arm began to lose sensation. That particular Kinrath group had paid with all their lives.
The sixth attack had been more costly. After three days and nights of no food or water, combined with relentless exertions both physical and through the Force, Vrehk slowed noticeably. For that sin, he'd suffered two separate cuts to his left arm and one on his right thigh. If he didn't find a way to end the infinite assaults, he'd be worn down to the point of being overwhelmed.
On the fourth day after he left the cave, Vrehk sat on a branch high above the forest floor. He leaned against the Wroshyr trunk, tearing his remaining sleeve off. He then wrapped the cloth around the cut on his thigh. Cinching it tight, he hissed as the pain flared across his body. He knew the Shadowlands were hostile, but until now he'd underestimated the severity of its wildlife. The Kinrath never stopped coming, no matter how many he killed. They were a never-ending horde, unstoppable in their ravenous hunger. Against them, he might as well have been a piece of driftwood fighting a raging current.
Vrehk shook his head, pushing those feelings aside. He was no pathetic mundane, helpless before mindless creatures. He was a Sith. The power of the Dark Side made him more powerful than any being in the galaxy. But, he realized, power wasn't everything. After all, the Jedi also had the power of the Force at their command. Yet they did nothing to stop the decay of civilization.
Cunning. A Sith was not only a powerful warrior, but also a brilliant thinker. The greatest Sith Lords in history –Ajunta Pall, Darth Revan, Emperor Vitiate, and finally Darth Bane— had possessed the greatest intelligent minds in history. They achieved power and legacy through strategy and their superior cunning. If Vrehk was to walk in their footsteps one day, he needed to do the same.
He sat on that branch for over an hour, trying to think of a way to outsmart the Kinrath. However, his endless exertions and lack of sustenance finally caught up with him. Resting his head against the wood of the Wroshyr tree, he let the blissful arms of sleep envelop him.
He awoke a few hours later, still groggy but not as exhausted as before. Vrehk stretched his arms and cracked his neck, relaxing his stiff joints. He paused when he sensed something nearby. Not Kinrath, or any other animal. Non-sentient lifeforms felt different through the Force. That meant he sensed an intelligent being, and on Kashyyyk, that could only mean one thing. Standing, Vrehk spotted a nearby Kshyy vine hanging from above. Calling it into his hand with the Force, he gave it a few tugs before swinging to a far-off branch. He did this for almost twenty minutes, closing in on the lifeforms he sensed.
Reaching his destination, he landed on a branch and crouched low. His master had bid him to stay hidden from the natives and prevent discovery at any cost. In a clearing far below, three Wookiees were gathered around a campfire. The shaggy, brown-furred giants all wore bandoliers or belts likely containing supplies and ammunition. One stood watch at the edge of the clearing, a large Bowcaster in hand. The other two sat on stumps by the fire, carving into Kinrath corpses.
Vrehk squinted, his interest piqued. Wookiees, though they came infrequently, knew the Shadowlands better than anyone. It stood to reason that they would know of a way to deal with, among other things, hordes of venomous Kinrath.
They cut into the arachnids' abdomens with large knives, carefully peeling the flesh as they went. Eventually, the two Wookiees reached into the openings and removed small, round organs. They then poked holes in the organs with their claws, threaded string, and wore them around their necks. The Wookiees proceeded to carve the Kinrath corpses into pieces and began cooking them on the fire.
Vrehk tapped his sharp fingernails on the wood of the branch in thought. In all his encounters with the Kinrath, he'd noticed the unique stench each drone gave off. He'd just assumed it was a natural odour from wild animals. But maybe it served another purpose. Many creatures in nature used pheromones and scents to identify enemies from members of their own kind. That could explain how the Kinrath hunted their prey.
If he could extract what the Wookiees had extracted, he'd finally have the means to end the relentless swarming attacks. Leaving the Wookiees to their own devices, he swung to a branch in a direction away from their camp. As he melded back into the darkness, he knew what he had to do.
"Peace is a lie, there is only passion," Vrehk said. His eyes were closed, his legs crossed and his hands held palms upward on his lap. "Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me."
It had been two weeks since he'd suffered the swarms of Kinrath at every turn. After observing the Wookiees in their camp, he'd gone in search of the arachnids. They found him, attacking in great numbers as they always did. Vrehk managed to butcher them all, then cut one of them open. He'd used the tip of another Kinrath's sharpened leg. Plunging his hand into the mess of fluids and organs, he pulled out the piece he needed. It was a sweat gland of some sort. It smelled foul, but matched the scent of all the other Kinrath. After that, Vrehk went for days without even seeing one of the troublesome creatures.
Now free to roam the Shadowlands again, he'd wandered in no particular direction. Killing and preserving another Tach for food, he'd honed his combat skills against a myriad of creatures both hostile and peaceful. After a certain point, he began to sense something in the forest depths. Not sentient, like the Wookiees, and not animalistic, like the Kinrath or Katarn, but something…more. This presence had a lingering tinge of the Dark Side. Compelled to investigate, Vrehk traveled for two days in search of it.
His search did not prove to be in vain. The presence he felt led him to a secluded grove permeated with the Dark Side. Unlike every other area of the Shadowlands, not a single animal or insect could be found here. Apart from the thick Wroshyr tree roots, there was no vegetation. It was as if the energies of this place held back every part of the forest, refusing to be claimed by nature.
Coming around a small hill, he came face to face with a large device. It consisted of a round base with a trio of tall fins standing atop it. Strange symbols were etched along the metal. Even with years of poring over the tomes of his master's archive, Vrehk had no idea what the symbols meant. His eyes trailed over to a smaller device beside it, and he recognized it as a Rakatan Star Map. The same as he and Perdition had visited on Tatooine.
The device was a computer of Rakatan design, retro-fitted by Revan himself to test the identities of any who sought to access the Star Map. Unfortunately, thousands of years of neglect and decay had rendered it powerless. Not to mention the destruction of the Star Forge and the extinction of the Rakata. When he tried to activate it, nothing happened. Still, all Rakatan technology had been built with an infusion of the Force. There was a lingering Dark Side aura coming from the computer. And so, Vrehk spent the better part of two weeks meditating and training next to it. The energies suffused him, giving him strength as he channeled his power.
Finishing his meditation, Vrehk stood and stretched, cracking his knuckles and neck. He ran a hand along the surface of the computer. If only it still functioned. He had so many topics about the Rakata he wanted to explore: lost Force techniques, historical records of the ancient galaxy, technological guides for hybrid Force devices, and so much more.
As he stood there, staring at it, Vrehk got an idea. Even though the device itself was non-functional, some of its internal components could be of use.
Through the night and the next day, he worked to disassemble the computer. Since he had no tools, he had to make do by bashing panels open with rocks and prying pieces off with the Force. With that out of the way, he dove in and examined every last component down to the smallest bolt. His technical expertise was rather limited, so most of the pieces were unrecognizable junk to him. Deep in the computer's guts, he found something rather interesting. A crystal lattice at its core interconnected with the circuits around it. The crystals gave a faint hum of Force energy. Reaching so far into the computer only his legs stuck out, Vrehk plucked one of the amber crystals from the core. He knew it would serve as a suitable lightsaber focusing crystal.
Backing away, Vrehk pocketed his prize. He gave one last glance to the towering computer. The Rakata had been mighty in their time, but they were dead and gone. All that remained of their legacy was whispers and shadows. Vrehk's legacy would impact the fate of the galaxy. He was sure of it.
With his quarterstaff in hand, he left the grove behind. The time had come for the final leg of his journey, back to the beach. His master would be there by the time it took to walk back.
Vrehk felt his excitement brewing, bit by bit, as he walked. This trial had been grueling, the hardest of his life, but so far he'd conquered every part of it. He couldn't wait for his training to progress. The day would come soon when he'd build his lightsaber and stand tall beside his master as a full-fledged Dark Lord of the Sith. He started to imagine how he would build his weapon. For a long time, he wanted a single blade like Perdition. But in the last few years, he started to favour the more exotic double-bladed lightsaber. It presented a challenge to master, but he preferred a challenge. Also, it gave him far more options in battle as well as being a more unpredictable and lethal weapon.
Should he use some form of blade guard? Yes. Something sharp for intimidation and possible use in combat. And what about the overall size? The length would have to be twice as much as a standard hilt. He decided to keep a standard girth for the hilt; while Devaronians were naturally a hardy and strong race, Vrehk didn't need a thicker hilt. Besides, he favoured speed and agility over brute strength. As for a single hilt or two connected hilts, he thought…
Vrehk stiffened as an intense disturbance in the Force washed over him. His mind screamed with imminent danger. Reacting on instinct, he leaped high in the air and backflipped several metres away. From the shadows spewed a tangle of thick, silky webbing. It passed harmlessly through the spot Vrehk had been standing on, sticking to a nearby tree trunk.
Landing gracefully, Vrehk held out his quarterstaff, ready for whichever predator was foolish enough to attack him.
The thing that emerged from shadows made him pause. He took an involuntary step back as it scuttled into view. Walking on eight articulated legs with sharpened tips, it nearly rivaled a Rancor in size. It had a fat, bulbous body with grey skin that featured red markings and a mandible-tipped head with ten black eyes. Glowing venom dripped from the mandibles, hissing as it ate through the ground.
"Ah, blast!" Vrehk muttered. The creature bellowed a screeching cry, then charged.
Realizing he had no chance of taking it head-on, he rolled out of the way. The spider re-oriented itself, then spewed a fresh tangle of webs. Vrehk grabbed a nearby rock as big as his head with the Force, flinging it in between them. The webbing wrapped around the rock, which landed harmlessly on the ground.
The spider chittered in momentary confusion, then attacked again. In that moment, Vrehk struck. He leaped forward in a handspring which propelled him next to the spider. He jabbed his quarterstaff into one of the legs with stone-shattering force, which bent at the joint with a crunch. The spider keened, then lashed out with another leg. It caught him in the chest with the power of a hydraulic loader, throwing him back. Vrehk crashed onto the ground, the wind knocked out of his lungs.
He had just enough warning in the Force to roll backwards seconds before one of the spider's legs would have impaled him. Getting back to his feet, he went on the offensive with a flurry of acrobatic Ataru strikes. He struck flesh, broke legs, and even took out an eye. Despite this, the spider didn't seem crippled in any significant way. If anything, the injuries he inflicted only made it more aggressive.
It charged forward, bowling him over with its massive weight. Vrehk brought up his quarterstaff in the same instant it tried to bite him with its large mandibles. This close, he could smell its breath and nearly gagged. It was far fouler than anything else on Kashyyyk, even the Kinrath sweat gland he wore or the acids secreted by the Gorryl slugs. It stank of rotting corpses and powerful digestive juices, a fate he desperately wanted to avoid.
Even enhanced with the Force, Vrehk's quarterstaff couldn't hold against the creature's mandibles and gargantuan strength. The wood splintered from sheer pressure, and it blackened and smoked from the venom. Finally, it split in half, opening him to another attack. Vrehk knew he didn't have the strength to hold the mandibles back, so he gathered his power for a lightning attack. He had no idea if it would work, but he had to try something.
The spider jerked as something crashed into it. A squelching noise elicited an agonized shriek. It was enough of a distraction for Vrehk to slip free and create some distance. With time to gather himself, he now saw what had injured the spider. It was a Wookiee on the back of its bulbous body, holding a large knife buried into the flesh. Green blood the colour of vomit oozed from the wound, and the spider tried to shake its attacker off. The Wookiee's grip was too strong, as it clung to the beast with the claws of its other hand. The spider then tried to slam itself into nearby tree trunks in an effort to dislodge it. This tactic was successful, and the Wookiee tumbled onto the ground.
Vrehk had a good look at his unexpected ally. It was large, even for a species known for their intimidating size, its hirsute body rippling with thick muscle. It sported a shaggy coat of grey hair with silver covering most of its back and legs. A silverback, a rarer subspecies compared to the brown-haired majority. Vrehk noticed the Wookiee's hair was dirty and matted, and he could see many fresh scars across its body. Whatever the reason, it had been down in the Shadowlands for some time.
The spider regarded the two of them with its black eyes. This was no mindless animal, but an intelligent apex predator. To kill it would require strategy as well as strength. Vrehk suspected the Wookiee would prefer the latter to the former.
His suspicions were correct when the silverback bellowed a fearsome war cry. It charged, brandishing its curved knife while baring its sharp fangs. The spider turned to face it, and Vrehk used the distraction to attack. Reaching out, he took hold of a thick tree root. Clenching his fingers into a fist, he ripped it free of its base and hurled it at the spider. The root, as thick as a starship fuel cell, slammed into the legs on its left side and broke most of them. The spider wailed, and Vrehk leaped onto its back.
The Wookiee continued its charge. The spider lashed out, trying to stab it with the tip of a functioning leg. The Wookiee, however, displayed greater agility than its size would suggest. It ably dodged the leg, then attacked with a powerful swing of its knife, chopping the leg in half.
Vrehk mounted the beast's head, then used his naturally sharpened fingernails to claw its eyes out. He cut into the black orbs, slicing them into pieces. The spider growled in primal, agonized fury. It spewed webbing at the Wookiee as it tried to chop another leg, pinning the native to a tree trunk. Before Vrehk could claw out the last three eyes, the spider reared back and threw him to the ground. He grunted with the impact.
The spider turned to face him, raw hatred in the eyes not leaking fluids. Vrehk fed off that hatred, drawing it into himself. Gathering his power, he extended his hands and blasted the beast with lightning. The red bolts made it quiver and take involuntary steps back. Amazingly, it weathered an attack that would have killed almost any being in the galaxy. It advanced on him, overcoming his lightning with an indomitable will forged from thousands of years of evolution.
Vrehk's frustration grew, as did his anger. It fueled his lightning, intensifying the bolts as he wished the spider would. Just. Die!
With a growl, he focused his lightning on the spider's head. Its flesh began to cook as hairs burned away. The pure, concentrated hatred in the form of lightning bolts melted the beast's brain. Its three good eyes quivered as it experienced unimaginable pain. Vrehk never let up his assault, sensing this latest enemy neared its end.
The spider came within striking distance, but by then its brain was mostly liquefied. It took a final shaking step, then, with a pitiful screech, collapsed. The great predator stilled; it fought well, but for all its strength it had become nothing but prey.
Vrehk panted, placing his hands on his knees as the effects of the battle caught up with him. Catching his breath, he tilted his head up to the sky and roared in triumph, exalting in his victory. The spider was clearly among Kashyyyk's most dangerous predators, and he'd killed it. But, he did have help. He turned to regard the Wookiee, still pinned to the tree by the spider's webbing.
It barked something in its native language, struggling to free itself. Vrehk walked over to it, inspecting it closely. The Wookiee fixed him with a hard gaze, its cold green eyes narrowed in suspicion. It spoke again, but Vrehk couldn't understand. There was a way he could, though.
Reaching out with the Force, he connected with the Wookiee's mind. He'd been training his powers of Force Bonding, learning how to connect with other beings. Forming a bond allowed him to gain knowledge from them, which aided him in his training. Peering into the other's mind, he sought the knowledge of how to speak its tongue. He sensed resistance, but pried through the mental defenses. He wouldn't be denied. The Wookiee growled, straining against its binding.
There! Vrehk found what he needed. He ripped the knowledge from the Wookiee's mind, taking it into himself. At the same time, he planted a full understanding of basic. A moment later, he asked, "What is your name?"
The Wookiee glared down at him. "What are you, demon?! Why do you come here with your dark magics?"
Vrehk sighed. "I am no more a demon than you are a wild animal. Now tell me…what is your name?"
The Wookiee paused, glancing at the spider's corpse. Finally he answered, "I am called Khelrikk, of the Bacca Clan.
"Well-met, Khelrikk. I am Vrehk Chund." Technically he violated his master's directive by speaking to this Wookiee. But he had already been seen, so the damage was done. He thought of killing Khelrikk, but decided to wait until he learned more information that might be of use. Before Khelrikk could respond, Vrehk sensed someone approaching the clearing. He nimbly jumped high into the air and landed on a branch.
A few seconds later, a trio of brown-haired Wookiees emerged from the shadows. He recognized them as the same hunting group he'd encountered weeks before. They inspected the spider's corpse, prodding it with their Bowcasters. Confirming it was dead, they turned to look at Khelrikk. One of them slung his weapon over his shoulder and approached the silverback. "Here you are at last, mongrel. How did you manage to bring down this Wyyyschokk if you were stupid enough to get caught by its webs?"
Khelrikk growled. "My hunting skills are unequalled, Velabushk. You of all people should know that."
"I know you are unequalled in dishonour and shame!" Velabushk retorted. "You humiliated my son, stole his honour!"
Khelrikk chortled. "I cannot have stolen what he did not possess."
The other Wookiee roared, drawing his own curved knife and pressing it to the silverback's neck. The other two leveled their Bowcasters, ready if he tried anything. Vrehk watched the unfolding events closely from his perch. From what he could gather, the three brown-haired Wookiees had come down to the Shadowlands in search of Khelrikk. He didn't care for the details of whatever clan dispute brought them to blows. If he remained hidden, Velabushk would slit Khelrikk's throat and leave him for scavengers.
That seemed a waste in Vrehk's eyes. To execute such a capable warrior like that over wounded pride was the height of pettiness. Then, he thought of something as he remembered his limited studies of Wookiee culture. There was a way to save Khelrikk, and in so doing gain a powerful asset.
Hopping down from his perch, he landed in front of one of the two subordinate Wookiees. Vrehk grabbed the warrior's knife from his belt just as his eyes widened in surprise, then blasted him back and knocked him out against a tree trunk. Using the Force, he hurled the knife at Velabushk. It ran through his throat, protruding out the front. The Wookiee gargled as blood gushed down his front, then stumbled back as the life drained out of him. The second subordinate Wookiee roared in anger and fired a shot with his Bowcaster. Vrehk extended a hand and blocked the plasma-sheathed bolt in mid-air. It froze in place, eliciting a look of shock. Calling down a Kshyy vine, Vrehk wrapped it around the Wookiee's neck and yanked him high above the ground. The warrior flailed, having dropped his Bowcaster. Vrehk tightened the vine around the other's windpipe, squeezing like a vice. The Wookiee gave several pitiful gasps as he tried to breathe, bloodshot eyes bulging out of their sockets. It took several minutes, but he finally expired and dangled from above like a macabre decoration.
The last remaining Wookiee, the one Vrehk had blasted back, awoke, stood, and bellowed in anguish. He flexed his fingers, revealing long, curving claws normally reserved for climbing. To even think of using them in combat was the ultimate taboo in Wookiee society, indicative of the grief he must have felt. Vrehk, remembering the Bowcaster bolt he'd frozen in place earlier, released his grip on it. The bolt lanced through the air, striking the Wookiee in the chest and killing it instantly.
Vrehk turned to look at Khelrikk, who could only stare at the corpses. Pulling the knife out of Velabushk's throat, he used it to cut the silverback free of the webbing.
"You killed them…" Khelrikk said, sounding astonished at what he'd just witnessed.
"They would have killed you like an animal," Vrehk reminded him. "A warrior like you deserves to die with honour on the battlefield, not trapped and helpless." Appealing to his primitive sense of honour would ease any doubts he might have about what would happen next.
He stared down at Vrehk, sighed, then knelt. Even then, Vrehk was barely a head taller. "You saved my life, demon. I can never fully repay you for this, but I will try. I swear, by all the honour of my family and my clan, to pledge myself to your service. A life debt, to be held by you and your descendants for the rest of my years. I will never break my debt, and the only way it can be repaid is with my own life."
Vrehk tried to contain his pleasure. In addition to acquiring a lightsaber focusing crystal and honing his combat abilities, he'd just earned himself a servant. Wookiees were among the most powerful races in the galaxy, as well as talented mechanics and tinkerers. A life debt was a solemn vow, never broken. Khelrikk would serve him until either of their deaths.
"I gratefully accept your debt, Khelrikk of Clan Bacca. You will never want for challenges and foes in my service. The time has come for me to leave this world, so you will join me. Come."
The silverback stood, and they left the clearing behind. The forest would eventually pick the corpses clean, removing any evidence of the battle. Khelrikk proved to be a superb guide, having an intimate familiarity with the landscape. After a day of silence, Vrehk asked him about the circumstances of his feud with Velabushk.
"His family and mine have been at odds for generations. My youngest brother started spending a great deal of time with a girl, as young ones do. Unfortunately, Velabushk's son also had an interest in her. He and two others chased my brother onto an isolated walkway and sprayed him with webweaver silk. The same silk you cut me out of. They warned him to stay away from the girl, or suffer worse consequences. It took us half a day to find him and free him of the silk. I flew into a rage. I tracked down and crippled the other two, then cornered Velabushk's son. He tried to attack me, but even a Katarn pup could beat him."
"What did you do to him?" Vrehk asked.
Khelrikk's eyes narrowed as he extended and retracted his claws in frustration. "I shaved him with my Ryyk blade, then strung him up by his ankles in the village square. Velabushk threatened to murder me, but my father argued since it was Velabushk's son who started it. Ultimately the chieftain forced a peace on both our clans, on the condition that I be banished into the Shadowlands. That was two years ago, and I've been down here ever since."
Vrehk nodded. From what he'd read, feuds such as that were common on Kashyyyk. Even members of an honour-bound race of noble warriors could sink into avarice and jealousy.
"I presume you've heard of the Jedi?" Vrehk asked him a short time later.
The Wookiee nodded. "Magic warriors that use the Light Side of the Force. They serve the Republic."
"That's right. Have you also heard of the Sith?"
"They are supposed to be the ancient enemies of the Jedi. My grandfather rallied our people to drive them off when they invaded our world 400 years ago. They used the Dark Side of the Force, but they all died off at the end of the New Sith Wars."
The Sith had attempted to invade Kashyyyk centuries ago, Vrehk knew. Lord Kaan's Brotherhood of Darkness had launched a long, bloody assault to claim it. Towards the end of the war, Jedi forces under Valenthyne Farfalla had reclaimed it for the Republic. Yet another example of how military might was not the way to destroy the Jedi. Lord Kaan had legions of soldiers and hundreds of Sith at his disposal, yet he'd failed to overthrow the Sith's eternal enemy.
"The Sith didn't die off all those years ago," Vrehk explained. "We were reborn. Now we exist as two, a master and an apprentice."
Khelrikk looked at him with surprise. "You…a Sith?"
"You've seen my power," Vrehk reminded him.
Khelrikk nodded.
"Think of it this way: your anger gave you the strength and focus to do what was necessary. You retaliated when someone wronged you. Your people punished you for it. The Sith value anger; it is the source of our power, the core emotion that makes us superior to the Jedi. Life is a constant struggle, Khelrikk, kill or be killed. Drawing on your anger lets you fight to stay alive with every breath in your body. You of all people should realize the value of struggle. Your time in the Shadowlands made you strong, and it helped me transform into what I need to be." The Wookiee was silent, but Vrehk sensed he weighed the words in his mind.
They walked for two more days and nights, finally reaching the beach at the isolated inlet. The freighter rested on the sand, as it had a month before. Darth Perdition stood atop the boarding ramp, hands clasped behind his back. His expression was neutral, as always, but Vrehk sensed his anger at Khelrikk's presence.
Kneeling at the foot of the ramp, Vrehk said, "I have completed my trial, my master. I faced the dangers of the Shadowlands and endured. My anger gave me strength, my hatred gave me focus."
"So it has," Perdition said coldly. His gaze shifted to Khelrikk, who stood several paces back. "My instructions were clear, apprentice."
Vrehk swallowed. He knew he was treading on broken ground. "They were, master. I did not encounter the Wookiees for most of my trial. While I initially avoided them, I came across this one while battling a native beast. There were others that came searching for him due to a clan feud. I killed them all, saving this one's life in the process. He has sworn himself to my service."
"So you took it upon yourself to disobey me?" Perdition asked, eyes glowing red.
"No, master. I never consciously violated your mandate. As I said, all the others died. My face was the last thing they saw. This one is an outcast, banished from his people. They will not miss him, nor recognize his absence. He is indebted to me, charged with my protection until the end of his days."
Perdition's anger lessened as he looked at the Wookiee. "A life debt? Wookiees are not known to take their oaths lightly."
"I could have let him die, master. But I chose to save his life, and in so doing now have a powerful servant that will aid our cause."
For a long time, nothing was said. Vrehk remained kneeling, staring at the ground as his anxiety grew by the second. If his master decided he'd failed the trial, he could conceivably end his life, and Khelrikk's, in an instant and seek a new apprentice. Everything he'd gone through in the last month couldn't be for nothing. It had made him a stronger Sith, sharpened him into the weapon he needed to be. The blood and pain had to be worth something.
Vrehk sensed his master's anger disappear, replaced by something else. Pride?
"Well done, my apprentice. Not only did you survive the Shadowlands with strength and power in the Force, but you also showed great cunning. Your decision to save this Wookiee's life is exactly the sort of strategic thinking that makes us better Sith than those who came before."
Vrehk felt his tension melt away. He couldn't help but smile, basking in his master's praise. He hadn't failed after all! This latest step of his training was complete, and he couldn't wait to take the next one.
"But be mindful: everything we do is in service to the Grand Plan, never ourselves. Should your personal ambitions outweigh your loyalty to me or the cause, then you will be destroyed. Rise, apprentice. It is time for us to return to Kuat, and for you to continue your training."
"Yes, my master," Vrehk replied as he rose to his feet. He gestured to Khelrikk, who regarded Perdition with suspicion. Nevertheless, the silverback followed him up the ramp and into the freighter. Once Vrehk strapped himself into the passenger's seat behind Perdition, he took the Rakatan computer crystal out of his pocket. As the ship rose out of Kashyyyk's atmosphere, he dreamed of the day he would build his lightsaber.
The weapon of a Sith.