Fated Origins: Chapter 8: A Sith Makes Trouble

A/N: Hey everyone! I want to apoligize for the lateness of this update. I'm not too pleased at how this chapter turned out, for I had some horrible writer's block, and I was also devoting some time to a new story. Don't worry! I will be continuing this one as well! Selected review responses are at the bottom.

Enjoy! And remember: Don't take any wooden nickels.

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"Why do they speak such loveless deceptions? Come, I shall show you true terror in a world without warmth."

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32 BBY-Naboo, Home of Chancellor Palpatine/Darth Sidious

"Look at the feeble Jedi, Cadmus. Look at him."

"Yes, Master."

"Why is this Jedi incarcerated before us in this manner?"

A pause.

"Because, Master, the Jedi is weak."

A nod of approval.

"Yes, Cadmus, you are learning. This Jedi is weak. But why is the Jedi weak?"

No pause.

"Master, the Jedi is weak because of his beliefs. The Jedi cannot know true power as his principles restrict him."

A light, solitary applause.

"Good, Cadmus. Good! Yes, the Jedi are incapable of true mastery over the Force because of their foolish tenets. Instead of power, they would have false peace. Instead of domination, they would have unmerited equality. Instead of the most powerful, the most capable, the most skilled to be in power, they would have the Galaxy ruled by the weaklings! The inferior! Do you see their lies for what they are, Cadmus?"

A strong, confident response.

"I do, Master."

Derangement, in a gleeful smile.

"Lies and their creators must be destroyed, Cadmus! By our hand! You, my son, are a prodigy of the Darkness! It is you who will restore the Galaxy to its rightful position under the glorious hand of the Sith! Show me your power, Cadmus: kill the Jedi before you!"

A pair of frightened emerald eyes widened as they looked into a smaller set of unsure ice-colored ones.

"But, Master-,"

A swift blow across the little head.

"Do not question me, boy! Act, or there shall be consequences."

The young child gulped, and then raised his hand shakily.

"Yes, boy!" cried his Master. "End her with the Force! Concentrate, Cadmus. Channel the Shade within you."

The adolescent shut tight his eyes.

In a moment, the bound, female Jedi on the floor began to writhe like an injured snake. Her mouth snapped open, but no sound was emitted. Muted.

"Yes! Yes! Continue, Cadmus!" the Master shrieked merrily.

The boy's perceptions became hazy and clouded as he thrust the Force through him, feeding the Darkness that was not there. He could feel his energy wilting away at the expenditure of this act , this hateful summoning of an inner malevolence that the boy did not possess. Despite this, he could feel it begin to build within him, like bricks, the fledgling wickedness becoming a layer at the base of his soul.

A tear leaked from his adolescent eye. And then, he felt an absence.

After several moments, he gradually opened his eyes, aware that the Force had halted its momentum through him. It had stopped of its own accord; his unblemished spirit had halted the flow.

The female Jedi lay before him, twitching in a heap on the ground, yet very much alive. Her red-ringed green eyes bore into his, silently thanking him. He smiled weakly and began to-

The boy suddenly felt himself ascend violently off of the ground. Without any admonition, he was thrown forcibly across the room, and he slammed like a straw-doll into a metal wall. With a thud, he returned to the floor as gravity reclaimed him.

The boy shakily gazed up, his consciousness a battered jumble, and found himself looking up into the orange eyes of his Master.

The iniquitous old man grinned.

"You are nothing but a weak boy, Cadmus. You did not act as your Master commanded. You know the policy, little adept. Disobedient apprentices must be dealt with," he paused, watching the child's face. Finding no fear to his astonishment, he continued, voice high and innocuous. "This will pain me more than it will pain you."

The Sith Master raised his right hand.

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Unknown Date, Day Two of Cadmus' Return, Streets of Greater London

The glare of streetlights hailed the Sith Lord as he walked, like a menacing titan, upon a concrete path beside a primitive urban travelway called 'Cadogan Street', which he inferred from a small sign that he had passed. It had been a short time from when he had departed from the now-derelict Tonks' flat, and the flat's owner was still unconscious in his arms. Well, over his shoulder.

As he traversed down the lane, his eyes wandered over the small, ubiquitous buildings that lined the side of the pathway. They were definitely housing, from their mere look.

Common, ordered accommodation, causeways with archaic vehicles, law enforcement…

From this information, he gathered that, though this planet was indeed prehistoric in technology and civilization, they were nearing a breakthrough in their existing equipment. The urbanity of this district in which he walked stood to attest to it; at this stage of planetary development, with structured housing and vehicles, they were nearing a point where some form of interplanetary transportation would need to be invented, or risk massive outbreaks of disease and warfare from overpopulation. Then again, he wasn't aware of the planet's size…

"'Ello there, where are you headed, sir? And do you need assistance with that lass? She hurt?"

Cadmus immediately paused. The vocalization had emanated from directly behind him. In a split second decision, he chose to not attack the being directly, and risk a company of them.

Cadmus slowly revolved around.

A human male stood before him, clad in a dark uniform, a strange hat atop his head. The man carried a baton or club of some sort at his side. And oddly enough, this individual differed from all others Cadmus had encountered in that he had no Force Signature.

"No. That will not be necessary. She is in good health." Cadmus said slowly, beginning to turn around again.

"'Fraid I must ask then, sir, why she is on your shoulder?" the man continued, eyes narrowing slightly.

Cadmus thought quickly. "She is thoroughly inebriated. Can't move or perform basic functions. She's my wife, and I'm just taking her home from a festivity."

The man chuckled.

"Well, son, let me just call up a patrol car for ye', I presume you don't want to walk all the way there!" he articulated brightly, retrieving a small, black object from his pocket.

From a bystander's point of view, what occurred next would have appeared slightly comical. The uniformed man was suddenly thrown backwards through the air, pitching about inanimately, before he brusquely collided with a tree. With a dulled thump, the man returned to the grassy earth.

Surprisingly, the man was not unconscious. Instead, he dazedly grabbed the black object from its position a few inches from him, and drew it to his lips shakily.

"HELP!" he shouted into it. "I NEED ASSISTANCE AT CADOGAN STREET!"

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Chapter Seven Selected Review Responses:

bittatatat: Thanks for your review! And perhaps. Perhaps. (Evil laugh) No, no, I'm not quite sure of any ships just yet. But to me, I don't think Tonks would immediately take a liking to someone who has tortured her...Maybe Stockholm? Who knows!

arturus: Thanks for review! I just started your fic, A New Order, and it's good so far! And don't worry, Cadmus will have his fair share of defeats.