Disclaimer: All non-original characters and ideas mentioned here is SW material, not owned by me. Like countless others, I'm just playing in the Lucas Universe, inspired by Episode 3. Only the five Forgotten characters and the Schintian race were created by me, along with the planets Ichosar, T'Gottok,and Whrede.

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Eight: Apprentices

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In something approaching a bestial frenzy, Asaajj Ventress attacked her target. Armed once again with a burning red brand, she put the blade through several quick motions, each of them passing right through the intended target without a crackle of pulse static. Finally, she swept the blade directly through the head, and the projection dimmed in contrast to the room's regained lighting.

Across from her, Lord Vader had been standing straight up all the while, watching Ventress sweep his own Lightsaber through the crude hologram he had improvised for their purpose. The imaginary man had a completely blank expression, and clothing as bland as could be found anywhere on Coruscant. Anyone could tell that the Star Destroyer Devastator's saber practice system needed a lot of work, just like Asaajj.

Finished the exercise, the young Rattatak switched the blade off and snarled as if showing off for a zoo in front of an endless starscape. Her sole audience clasped his gloves, sizing up the woman as if seeing her for the first time. "Good. What you lack in raw power, you make up for with vigor and agility in saber combat. Your rage gives you endless energy to that purpose."

Still sullen, she tossed the only saber that had survived the previous night back to him. "That didn't help against that miserable lizard. Where did he get his energy from, master?"

No particular emphasis on that new title, but he heard it all the same. He hadn't seen it at the time, but Asaajj had been partially awake last night, had been watching him terrify the massive Trandoshan warrior into total submission. For that, his rescuing of her, and the obvious gap between their saber skills, she had asked to be taught what he had.

Even if his memory was completely intact- there was still the occasional odd gap-, he would have been cautious. Anakin Skywalker had never had the opportunity to train any other Jedi. He still knew less about the Sith training than he did of the ways of the Jedi. But thus far, this… this feels easier somehow. You just have to let go. Let goof everything.

Which was part of how he had deduced the answer to that question. "You must remember that Trasshk was a very powerful warrior", he said at last, letting the rebreather punctuate his statement. "Hate and rage come as naturally to his people as breathing. Less than a handful of Trandoshans have ever been considered as potential Jedi because of this… but they would all make excellent Sith. Their carnivorous wells of anger run as deep as yours from their birth, and he had something more than that to fuel his wrath."

Sitting, Ventress blinked. "What?"

"It was his joy that defeated you. As naturally inclined to anger as he was, he allowed himself to feel unsurpassed pleasure in the act of violent conflict. Because rage, Ventress, is not the only powerful feeling that can summon the power of the Dark Side- it is simply the easiest one for us to harness."

Asaajj looked into the mirrored sheen of Vader's saber, seeing annoyance in her own scarred reflection. "Which was why he was smiling. He was ecstatic at the chance to bring pain to someone- anyone- else."

Vader nodded. "Any powerful emotion will do. When passion becomes obsession, when anger becomes hatred, when joy becomes pure ecstasy- then, the real power of the Force is unleashed. This was my Master's first lesson to me."

Finished with the saber for now, Asaajj placed it beside him and curled her fists in on themselves at the memory of the showdown. "That won't do me much good now, until I can find two new Lightsabers."

"One new Lightsaber.", Vader corrected sharply. Seeing her turn in surprise, he rose with his own weapon back in hand, ignited it inches from her face, letting the glare wash over it.

Unimpressed, she folded her arms tight. "Skywalker, you might be comfortable with just one, but I used the twin sabers Ky Narec gave me since I was a little hatchling. The ones Master Dooku gave me were the same."

"Which is why you must begin training with one immediately", Vader's mechanical tone corrected her harshly. "You have asmuch to unlearn as learn. Look closer."

Obeying, she looked closer into the blood red of the blade, her tension serving to illustrate the fact that she still didn't trust him entirely- she'd be a fool to. "So what? Yours is better cared-for by your Imperial lackeys."

He radiated a weariness that surprised him in its similarity to his old masters. "You have not seen the crystal within the handle- a Corusca gem, if I'm not mistaken."

She didn't move her impatient gaze an inch, and so didn't have to say so what? To get the point across.

"The point is that you know nothing of it", Vader said, a bit snidely. "The facets of Corusca gems are interlinked in thousands of incredibly complex ways, every molecule tethered to others at the far side. The Lightsaber is no different- it is an art that can never be truly mastered. Not if I were to forego my duties to my master and spend the rest of my days alone, training in the use of the Lightsaber could I truly master it. Using two well requires twice the dedication and concentration."

Asaajj studied the weapon further, still finding nothing, and gave up, exasperated. "In other words, learn to crawl before you walk. Fine then, one lightsaber for as long as I'm your apprentice, or until I beat you in a duel."

"If that ever happens, Ventress, I want you to kill me."

She didn't laugh at the attempted jest, looking back at the grassland world they'd left behind. "That's still a tall order with Palpatine around. Where would I-"

She paused, dumbstruck. The handle of the saber was still right up in her face, and she got the message right away. The surface was still unblemished, perfectly reflective and balanced after so much use.

Tentatively, she placed it into her empty belt holster, feeling as though she's just donned black armor of her very own. "Thank you… Master."

No sarcasm. This time she actually meant it, even more than the nervous-looking lieutenant that came running at that same moment, looking as through he hadn't a clue what had just transpired between them, and didn't want to ask. "Lord Vader, the final checkout is complete. Will you be returning to your ship, or coming with us?"

In a departure from the ghoulish silence the young lieutenant had almost come to except from the Sith Lord, Asajj whipped her flexible head around at gave him a thin-lipped smile that chilled him far worse. "I will be returning by Shuttle to the Shadow Hunter", Vader said, stepping forward. "That is the ship assigned to me for my trial. However, I want you to give four orders to Captain Veers, and make certain they are followed, understand?"

The lieutenant gulped, fumbling for his datapad. "Y-yes, Lord Vader. What are your orders?"

"First, give my new apprentice a craft. It need not be anything fancy, just the means to bring her with me."

For some reason, the younger man could no longer bear to even look at Ventress' skin or Sith tattoos. "Of course. We will commission her a fighter from our reserve squadrons."

"You had better. Secondly, make certain that the crime boss named Lars is dead before you leave this planet. Thirdly, locate the Uso family's residence, and pay to them the sum of 150,000 Imperial Credits from my personal fortune."

The young man's fingers flew, trying to enter the commands as fast as Vader gave them. Once he finished and caught his breath, Vader looked at Asajj instead of the addressee.

"Lastly, I want this ship to deliver a turbolaser bombardment to Warehouse 7F in Comati's commercial district, where Reyne A'kla had her base of operations. Reduce it to ashes- we will be doing it's denizens a favor in bringing them death."

-

Lon the Wise, the Schintian thought with disdain for his title. A truly wise being would not find themselves in this situation, would have found a way out that does not involve violating nature in every way.

For that had been the naming tradition of his people since before memory- the first name chosen by the family, and the adjective determined by the Schintian's acts or special traits once he or she grew up. His younger brother was Karj the Crimson, named so for his prowess in battle as well as the oddly bright hue of his wings. Inwardly, he wondered what his people would do once they ran out of qualifiers. They may use Wise again- I certainly do not deserve mine. Perhaps Coward is already taken.

The object of his effort was still struggling in his mental grip- a compassionate spirit, nonetheless stirred up at the prospect of being cruelly severed from the Unliving Force.

The woman was certainly putting up an amazing amount of resistance for one who had died so recently. Already, Lon felt the small bursts near his blood vessels that signified the start of the awful headaches he always got when looking through the Unliving Force with his mind. He could not stay here much longer.

Redoubling his efforts at that thought, locking away his shame, he fastened an iron cage of Force energy around the consciousness he wanted to resurrect, a prison to contain her spirit. Once that was finished, he began to draw the cage, and the consciousness it contained, out of the glorious light and back into the world of the living.

None of his records had indicated any notion of his target having been a Force-user, which was why he forgot to hide his shock when the cage slowed, stopped between life and death by a will as strong as his own.

This is impossible. How could she…? Wait.

The cage dropped back as he looked closer. Yes, there were indeed two consciousnesses imprisoned inside his trap. Somehow, this one had not only attached itself to the one he had wanted, but lacked the typical energy signature of a completely dead person. This one was more of an echo, a fragment of someone with a strong connection to the Force, who had attached to his intended target and protected her.

Fatigue ate at his heart, and for a moment Lon considered stopping. Raising dead wills from the Force would be useless if he exhausted himself beyond measure in doing so, and this other… presence was very strong indeed. But then there were the consequences of failure. Death, and banishment to the very same featureless sphere of light he now drew upon.

Apologies, friend, he thought viciously at the woman's guardian, it's either you or me.

With that, he plunged back into his task, ignoring the killer headache. Mustering all his strength, Lon pushed his cage further outward, against the strength of this other consciousness… but even this strength might not be enough.

Desperation fueled inspiration. Spending so much time meditating in the decaying throne room of Jomark's High Castle, he'd nearly forgotten about the allies he'd brought with him. My servants, he sent to the six Schintians stationed throughout the castle, I require your aid, please lend me your strength.

One by one, they obliged. Each of the six was Force-sensitive to a degree Lon the Wise had tried to expand upon, but their primary strength still lay in the realm of crude matter- unlike the one they were employed by the homeworld to guard, these six Schintian warriors were both young and athletic- two of them would equal the muscle of the late Trasshk, although he would never be so callous with their lives to test that theory. Deep inside, he was as ashamed of having such loyal bodyguards as he was of his title now.

But their strength served his purposes. Lon the Wise felt life coursing through his bones again, more energy pouring into him from all sides. He felt twenty years younger, and more than a match for whoever had taken it upon themselves to prevent his crime against nature and the Force. With just a bit more effort, he slid the other will's focus aside, moving the cage and it's occupants further away from the light. Thank you, my friends.

Just a bit further now, he contented himself, signaling his guards. Just a bit farther, and…!

He nearly lost all grip on the cage in surprise, understanding at last, just who it was he had contained in there. Small wonder he gave me so much trouble. But the reward is worth the risk in this case- two for the price of one. Now I won't even need to extract Ky Narec.

Finally, he ignored the wailing cries and pushed both essences out beyond the border, back into the physical world, albeit as mere phantoms. With just a bit of effort, he could see them now standing before him, neither sure what to do or how to move, or if they could do anything but silently despair over being pulled out of paradise.

Now here, here was the aspect of his talent that Lon knew others would take a very great pleasure in. Palpatine would kill for this- he likely already had.

The cold truth was, that slain consciousnesses still retained some semblance of individual will before merging with the Force. When they were extracted in such a fashion as he had just done, that will just went out the window.

The two essences before him, one male and one female, would not be giving him any more trouble. They were his to command. Staring into four eyes without pupils was unnerving as it had always been… but knowing this fact made it seem all worthwhile. Control, he decided bitterly, is as addictive a substance as Spice. I cannot deny the shameful, perverted satisfaction I felt just now, and the Emperor is the greatest addict of all to Control- so much that he will kill me and everyone else for more of it.

Only now, sitting at his left and right claws, did he possess the means to fight back.

-

The Shadow Hunter traveled among the stars once again, a slender silver dagger against the night. Once again, the familiar sight of an endless display of stars greeted Vader's eyes behind his lenses. It was good to be back.

Behind him trailed a smaller craft that made his single-seater look like the height of luxury. As ordered, Asajj Ventess flew the experimental Imperial machine in the Shadow Hunter's wake, careful not to lose its trail.

Vader could not see his new apprentices' face across the left viewport, but he didn't have to in order to guess at her frustration- their path was unclear.

Just as he expected, her voice crackled over his channel, every bit angry as she had always been. "Pardon me, Vader, but I do believe we've been going around in sublight circles for the past ten minutes. What does Palpatine's information say about the last Forgotten?"

The last thing he left like admitting to her is that he had merely been putting his personal craft back into shape for fun. No matter how much of weak little Anakin Skywalker he tried to banish, flying any craft would always be fun- a concept someone of his apprentices' upbringing would never comprehend. "I was merely readjusting, Ventress. This ship's computer is sluggish after spending so many days untouched."

That seemed to satisfy her. Vader took the hint and loaded the last file on the Forgotten, placed at the very bottom of the list. He skipped through Zurxix Azur and Trasshk's files, knowing full well that those were no longer needed.

Forgotten Jedi- Lon the Wise, Schintian Male from Korriban:

'There is a reason why I arranged to last this file displayed last. When I met Lon the Wise for the first time on Korriban, he impressed me then with his abilities. Now, ten years after, I have no doubt that he has increased his powers to compensate for his age. His people say that he can speak to and raise the departed, a 'miracle' that has drawn other fools to him in search of reunion with their loved ones. Though I expected far better from the 2nd child of Korriban, do not underestimate him Lord Vader. Lon the Wise will certainly be your most difficult test- treat him as you would me, were I an enemy.

Vader digests the information slowly, still having to wait a pause for the memory to click. Korriban. The Dark-Side planet, where Obi-Wan and I…

The Emperor had called Lon the second child of Korriban. That was not suprising- the sinister aura that permeated that planet made it the last place anyone would wish to birth a child. He imagined a Force-sensitive child, exposed to so much negative energy, would be scarred for life by Dark Side power. The second child of Korriban, he mused unhappily, who, then, is the first?

He shook his helmet to clear it. That didn't matter now, and the spies had indicated that Lon hadn't returned to his place of birth or to his species' homeland. Instead, he had settled on a primitive world called Jomark, where his supposed ability to raise the dead would easily portray him as a living God to its backwater denizens.

Laying in a course for Jomark and feeding the coordinates to Asajj's slower computer, Vader continued to reminiscence, despite how much he'd vowed not to, on his and Obi-Wan's earlier journey to Korriban, just before the outbreak of the Clone Wars. He remembered the feeling of Korriban's shrouding aura of darkness well- it had served their target, Granta Omega, extremely well in his final moments.

This time, mere darkness would not hold him or his new apprentice back. They were one with the night, and would bring the same to Jomark's yokels along with their leader.

He spoke again to Asajj before beginning the jump. "You have been going over the mental exercises I showed you?"

"Yes", her answer came back immediately, stopping herself from saying Skywalker as well as something more…

He leaned closer to the pickup. "And?"

He heard a scowl. "They aren't helping. My powers are best when I am free to let my anger flow, not control it!"

"True, but unrestrained anger makes one a juggernaut without skill. You must learn to control your strongest emotions, Asajj, and use them when appropriate. They may well be the key to true power, but you cannot let your anger run away with you."

He gave her a few seconds to mull over that, then started the ignition sequence. "A great battle lies ahead of us. Recite with me now, the code we follow on that battlefield, the code of the Sith."

Finally relaxing as she had been ordered to, Asajj sounded as though she was truly concentrating on the matter at hand now. Vader would not be surprised to see her eyes closed for her favorite part of the code, as they should be. "Yes, master… Peace is a lie. There is only passion."

Duplicating perfectly the controlled tone she had worked on, he recited the next verse. "Through passion, we gain strength."

"Through strength, we gain victory."

As the stars elongated, Vader let a small measure of his aggression creep back into his voice, as a way of empathizing with his disciple. After all, we are not like the Jedi, who suppress their emotions so much they may as well be droids. "Through victory, our chains are broken."

"The Force shall set us free!"

Then they were gone.

-

For the first time he could recall, Lon the Wise sat on his throne in order to speak down to Gran Lassau and the six athletic Schintians. "You have what I seek?"

Still covered by his hood, the alien nodded. "Yes, it was simple enough to procure. Many systems still have them in production for defense against the Separatist Droid armies."

Obligingly, Lon took the silvery object Gran held into his claws, unconsciously balancing it with the far window ledge. Beneath the silver casing lay the clearest indicator that this was a device to be handled carefully- two heavy piston levers, both of which had to be twisted and pulled simultaneously, safety off, to activate it. While a few of his elite guards had seen the weapon before, the technologically-backward folk of Jomark only saw it as another special relic belonging to their master, nothing more.

Lon clasped it tightly, now finally feeling as though he was ready for the ordeal to come. "You will be staying to help us, then? Claws and muscle are the universal weapon, but I doubt either of Palpatine's minions will be ready for the weapons that you bring to battle."

Lassau gently brushed the Paleryin Bol implanted in his right eye is if seeing it for the first time. "I suppose I could be persuaded. It's in my people's best interests to see Vader and Palpatine fall- of that I have no doubt."

Beside him, one of Lon's elite guards stirred, and for a moment, Lassau wondered if he had offended the so-called Wiseman in some way. Instead, the guard was looking out the castle window with a feral intensity usually seen in predator animals.

It took Lasaau just a moment to hear it too- a clamorous peal that could only be artificial in nature, seconded by more subdued thruster noise echoing off the brown stonework of the high castle. Infidel craft, Lasaau though to himself. "It seems our guests have already arrived."

For once, Lon actually smiled, showing his aging fangs as if sharpening them for the coming battle. "Then, by all means, let us give them a proper greeting."

-

M: Not much to say here. The final number of chapters is confirmed at an even 10, and my school is having a strike backed by union thugs, so I should get some work done on Chapter 9 relatively soon.