What Dreams May Come
Gazing at the vast darkness that bound one place to another, he couldn't help but find himself buried in the events that had led him to the pinnacle of true power and at the bottom shaft of broken dreams. The void seemed befitting of where he was. It's ravenous appetite would consume all of the lost memories and shattered dreams that once promised him life and redemption. He had been far more powerful than Malak himself; he had been at the forefront of achieving the rank of Apprentice to Revan. Now he was just a shattered man, the Revanite who had kept himself far from everything and everyone. After Revan's death, all the opportunities that had awaited him died with the Sith Lord. The carrion, which relished his fall from near absolute power, had sent him far away, to some outback world, while his other compatriots enjoyed the glory that was battle with the Jedi. Even as he stood there, the reports of a Republic fleet massing near Bothawui only made the Sith Lord wish he could join in the fray. He wanted to feel his opponents fall under his blade. He wanted to feel the fear of death permeate their entire being; he wanted to feed off it. He seethed with anger at the real person who should have died-- Malak.
Malak was the one who had destroyed his hopes, his dreams, his desire for more. Malak was the one to blame for killing the one person who could have made his lust for power materialize before his eyes. Malak was the one who stole his life; who threw him into the outback, hunting for an artifact that may not even exist. If the 'Unifier' does exist, he thought, then I shall be the first to learn of its power. Soon, the Republic's ashes will not be walked over by Malak; but by me. And he shall pay for what he's done.
After a few more moments gazing at the darkness that was space, Seth's thoughts turned to more haunting thoughts. The ghosts of his past would never leave him, no matter how much power he had in his grasp. It was that one moment that determined it all. His lust for power had killed everything that meant anything to him. It killed the man behind the mask. He no longer existed and in his place, he was reborn as Darth Seth. Unlike most other Sith, he had achieved that name through his offence against the Jedi. That offence against those whom he had never thought to commit such an atrocious act in the first place. He slaughtered countless numbers of his brothers and sisters, but one brother in particular had driven him to fall at the full fury of the Dark Side.
As he peered through at the golden planet that was Tatooine, Captain Stormov and Vincent Baroque made haste towards him. "My lord," the young Vjun aristocrat called out towards the Sith Lord, "I have troubling news." Seth turned around and what he heard displeased him the most. "The Jedi found the second key. The assassins failed, my Lord." His dark mask hid his twisted expression of outrage, his voice spoke swiftly and betrayed no emotion as he relayed his orders towards the Dark Jedi and the Captain.
"When we receive the coordinates for the star system they travel to, lay in a course and proceed," came the reply from the distorted voice. Stormov bowed and left to pursue his orders. "Baroque, I want a squadron of fighters dispatched and waiting for the Jedi when they come. Inform Lotus and our guest that they will have their chance to retrieve the second key and the third. This is far from over," the Sith Lord continued saying.
"Yes, my Lord," he calmly replied. Bowing, Vincent turned and left, eager to watch Lotus and the Mandalorian ordered to sure doom. He craved their deaths. The Mandalorian seemed a waste of credits, but if he was as good as others have claimed, then at least the last Hessian might prove to be a bit of entertainment. As for Lotus, her skills with a blade made her a worthy adversary. Unfortunately for her, accidents have been known to happen. He'd see to it that he became an Apprentice, and finally, become a Sith Lord. Seth will rue the day he insulted the likes of me, he thought to himself, relishing the thought of Seth falling to his knees and begging for his life before Vincent. How could he have passed over one, such as myself, for the likes of Lotus Xa. He will pay, and when I become the Master, he shall know true pain.
Sighing, Seth looked towards the stars, thinking of the past. Days where he didn't have to wear this contraption, the barrier that hid his soul; he was the shell of a man long since past. As he gazed out of the stars, he felt himself drawn back to the moment that had started it all. It would burn his hopes and dreams of becoming a great Jedi, but it opened the doorway to his lust and greed for power, turning him into the man who is Darth Seth. The man behind the mask, no longer existed.
He fought his reflection. The silhouette had longer hair that covered his eyes. Somehow he could anticipate every move the Dark Jedi would make. It wasn't just the Force, it was their time together. They had been together since the very beginning. Their blades danced around each other, blue striking on blue. Eyes never leaving each other's for a moment. They swirled and spun, their blades clashed and at once it had ended. The parry had failed, and the silhouette emerged victorious. "It's over!" He cries out. "I will take you home, we will find a way to end this war and Revan's treachery." The Dark Jedi only feels his hatred grow, this contempt at the man who is clearly his better. As his compatriot shies a way for a moment, to spread the flames away from them, the fallen Jedi feels for his saber through the Force. The contour metal-grip of the weapon flew to his hand, igniting a furious sky-blue blade. In a primal yell, the dance of blades is renewed. As the Dark Jedi swings his blade towards the reflection's stomach, he does not realize his own blade is deflected from it's own reflection. Each strike is followed by a parry. Each thrust is followed by a deflection. In a spiral, the Dark Jedi's blade flies towards the shoulder of the silhouette, an attempt to slice his head off. Suddenly, the reflection's lightsaber shoots up, locking with the killing saber.
Their eyes lock with each other's as their blades lock with each other. Through sheer will and determination, the silhouette shoves the blade away from him and spins about, slicing through the tunic of the Dark Jedi, slicing the edge of his gut-- but not slicing the Dark Jedi in two. As the Dark Jedi falls to the ground, the reflection stands tall, his lightsaber flaring a sapphire glow. "Why!" He yells to the Dark Jedi, "it didn't have to be this way. I could have helped you, I could have saved you." Glaring at the silhouette, the Dark Jedi feels sheer rage, hatred at his succession coming to a fall. Flames lick the sky and reach out towards the two warriors. Once more, the Dark Jedi feels for his lightsaber, commanding it to fly towards his hand as he uses the Force with his left hand to shove the silhouette back. As they begin to fight again, the silhouette's eyes are saddened by this act of hatred for no reason except for the promise of limitless power.
Each warrior strikes and deflects at all possible angles. Feeling through the Force, the silhouette knows how to end the fight. The Dark Jedi shoves his saber for the chest of silhouette, who parries it and makes a riposte strike of his own. Dodging the blade closely, the Dark Jedi feels the swirl of the Force around them, feels the wound taking its toll on his body-- he needs to rest. As the Jedi swings his sapphire blade to slice his opponent in half, the Dark Jedi jumps back, anticipating the swing. Eager at the opening, the Dark Jedi brings his blade to slice the silhouette's head cleanly. The Jedi smiles at the predictable Dark Jedi and spins, bringing his blade around him and cleaves the Dark Jedi's lightsaber in two.
As the Dark Jedi falls to the ground from the kick that is followed by the silhouette, the pillar of light looks at the Dark Jedi, a disheartened and saddened expression on his face. "I wanted to save you," he pleads to the Dark Jedi, who cringes from his wounds and the pain in the voice of the silhouette. "It's over now. You're my brother-- a member of the Jedi Order. I'm sorry, but I will bring you justice and save you from the pain you will feel if you continue down this path." Looking at the silhouette-- his brother--, the Dark Jedi only grunts and screams and his eyes are streaked with tears, just like the Jedi before him. Fire licked around them both. The searing heat threatened to consume them both.
"NO!" He manages to scream and brings his hand up-- his rage, hatred and undeniable fury at an opportunity coming to its close-- and feels the Jedi through the Force. He picks up the Jedi, whose expression is one of disbelief, and feels the body course with fear and pain. The silhouette continues to feel a course of pain wracking itself all over his body. He feels his throat constricting, his bones all over resonating and slowly disintegrating as if it were nothing more than a brittle paste.
Grinning, the Dark Jedi closes his outstretched hand in a fist, crumpling the body of the Jedi and hearing the distinct cracking of bones. The silhouette was gone. His doorway to infinite power was open, but his path to redemption had closed. "Goodbye," he speaks solemnly, saddened that he had to kill the silhouette for getting in the way of an opportunity that could have given both Jedi unimaginable power. "I will always remember you. I will rise to power for us both and Coruscant shall have a statue, larger than the Jedi Temple itself, in memory of you." Picking up the dead Jedi's lightsaber-- he wasn't going to need it anymore--, the man began to walk away, his burned body would never heal itself again-- and no amount of Kolto would heal the damage. Too much had been lost for him to turn back now. He had truly become a Sith Apprentice; he had become Darth Seth.
Seth for the man who had killed his own brother. Seth seemed fitting for himself. Many more brothers and sisters will have to die under the hand of Seth. His new Master would be pleased.
Shaking his head, Seth continued to look out at the vastness that was space. Only, it was no longer empty space. The Inferno and its task force had begun to leave, making its way towards the edge of the system, leaving Tatooine far behind. The streaking of the stars that had formed into the blue spiraling void, indicated that Seth's group was to head towards another planet in the Outer Rim-- Ryloth.
The Twi'lek homeworld seemed to be an oddity, since it was highly unlikely the Force would be saturated in an area within the planet, but appeared that the Force works in mysterious ways. The planet, somewhat wintry and a barren land similar to Tatooine, had made its mark in the galaxy by profiting from the self-exploitation of its population. Ryloth was renown for selling its own people, particularly females, into slavery for crime syndicates or gangs. The planet had especially made a great deal of profit from the notorious slug-like Hutts.
Shaking his head, the Sith Lord retired to his chambers, eager to hear the reports from Lotus' team and the Tatooine team. He was eager to retrieve the artifact and learn what he could from it before destroying it. Perhaps it might even hold the key to healing the skin under the rippled and rapidly decaying skin that his armour had covered up. Only his face had survived-- mostly.
As he entered the chamber, he tapped several keys on a control terminal and locked the doors within his chambers. It would do no good for anyone to walk in and see the scarred face of the Sith Lord. He touched several minor locks on a hidden pad underneath the armour-plate around his neck and felt the helmet at the base of his skull snap open, hissing and venting a cooling system. Removing the helmet completely, he brought his right hand to touch the skull. He felt scars and patches of skin where his hair should have been; some hair grew on his crown. He summoned a reflective glass and looked at himself: light brown skin from lack of exposure, sickly yellow eyes that were fading back to the natural brown eye colour. His face had a scar that ran from his right eye brown towards the base of his neck: a scar from a fight with his former Master. Such is the way of the Sith. As he touched his scars and the skin that had grown over it, he flinched, remembering that fateful duel that placed him at the level of Master. He looked at his right cheek, a patch of skin had grown there, over the supposed stubble of hair he would have had. Facial hair no longer grew anywhere. The eyes were no longer the same, but as he continued to gaze at the reflection, he couldn't help but remember the duel that would inevitably place him in this suit. "I will bring you justice and save you from the pain you will feel if you continue down this path," the Jedi had said to him years ago. That Jedi had a name, like so many others he had slaughtered.
Looking at his own reflection, Seth merely spoke at the reflection. "You were wrong," he said, no distortions came from his voice. His voice synthesizer was in his mask. As he continued to look at the reflection, his holoimager beeped and was flashing with an incoming message. Throwing his mask on and switching the locks in place, he played the message. A blue-hued display of a Dark Jedi appeared before him. "Yes?" The distorted voice had returned. The Dark Jedi merely bowed, her eyes refraining from looking at the Dark Lord.
"My lord, the Jedi have made their move. They've slaughtered our assassins and our troops have been killed by a group of commandoes. There are 5 of us, we require assistance," the Dark Jedi answered the Sith Lord. Annoyed, the Sith Lord continued to look at the Dark Jedi, who was careful not to look directly at the Sith.
"How many Jedi are there, right now?" He calmly asked the Dark Jedi. The Dark Jedi stammered and answered, being careful not to look ashamed.
"4, my lord." Smiling now, the Sith Lord only shook his head at the Dark Jedi. Had the Dark Jedi notice, he would have realized what the Sith's answer was at that moment. Unfortunately, he heard it a few moments later.
"We're on route to Ryloth. There are no reinforcements. Lotus Xa will not come to your rescue, either. You're on your own. Goodbye," he said. Before the Dark Jedi could answer, Seth had switched off the holoimager. That is why a Dark Jedi could never be a Sith, he thought to himself, contemptibly.
As he got up to leave his chambers, he noticed the viridian lightsaber at the corner of the room. It was on a weapons rack-- the lightsabers of all the Jedi Seth had killed. He moved towards it and picked it up. He felt the balance of the hilt-- the only real weight to the weapon, itself-- and ignited the blade to admire it's silvery green glow. I can almost feel your presence, he thought to himself, as if he were speaking to the lightsaber or the Master who had wielded the weapon. You didn't die, oh no. That is, not completely. You found a way to immortality and I will learn it from you. All I need is your Apprentice and he-- or she-- will lead the way to the artifact and to immortality.
Deactivating the blade, he placed it on the rack and made his way out of the room. Many more Jedi would be dead before this mission was over. And Seth would see it all burn around him before he would accept failure.