A New Task

The dark sky of Dathomir loomed overhead, clouds thick with the weight of a brewing storm. The Ebon Hawk descended smoothly into a small clearing, its landing pads hissing as they settled onto the uneven surface. Braylen—*Darth Vetris*—stepped out, his presence imposing as his cloak swayed with the wind, its edges nearly brushing the crimson soil. The stark contrast between his dark attire and the blood-red landscape made him seem like a living shadow.

At the edge of the clearing stood the *Night Mother, leader of the Nightsisters, her ceremonial robes billowing slightly in the breeze. Her face was hidden beneath a hood, though her glowing yellow eyes locked onto Vetris as he approached.

"*Lord Vetris," she began, her voice low and reverent, laced with curiosity. "We were not expecting you. Is something wrong?"

"No," Vetris replied curtly, his voice as cold and precise as ever, though there was an unmistakable edge to it. "But I must speak with my master. Where is she?"

The Night Mother inclined her head slightly. "She is likely in her study, meditating on the scrolls of our ancestors. Shall I send word of your arrival?"

Vetris shook his head, already knowing the answer. "No need. She has likely already sensed my presence."

The Night Mother smiled faintly. "Of course, Lord Vetris. In that case, with your leave, I shall attend to my own duties."

"Very well." Vetris offered a slight nod, already turning toward the stone structure that served as the Nightsisters' temple.

As he entered the dimly lit interior, the familiar scent of ancient scrolls and incense greeted him. He moved swiftly, his footsteps echoing in the quiet halls, until he reached a large chamber. There, standing with her back to him, was his master—*Darth Tanya*.

Dressed in flowing dark robes, her silver hair glimmered in the low light as she studied several scrolls laid out before her. Though she did not turn to face him, Vetris knew she was aware of his presence—he could feel the subtle pulse of her awareness in the Force, as if she had sensed him the moment he landed.

Without looking up, Tanya's voice cut through the silence, smooth and sharp. "I sense much conflict in you, my apprentice." Her tone carried the weight of their bond, one that had seen countless trials. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or shall I be forced to guess?"

Vetris hesitated for a moment, his hands clasped behind his back. "Sorry, Master."

"Nonsense," she said, finally turning around with a slight smirk. Her piercing eyes locked onto his, a mixture of amusement and concern hidden beneath the surface. "I'm just teasing. Come, sit." She gestured to a seat near the stone table where the scrolls lay. "Tell me, what has you so troubled?"

Vetris moved to the seat, sitting with a rigid posture, his mind torn between his duty and the swirling conflict within him. He trusted Tanya, but even now, laying his burdens before her felt… difficult.

"The conflict... it's growing stronger," he admitted, his voice low, almost begrudging. "I feel pulled in different directions—between my loyalty to you, my family, and this path I walk." His red eyes flickered slightly. "I fear it may destroy me."

Darth Tanya regarded him for a moment, her expression softening as she placed a hand on his shoulder, a rare gesture of warmth from a Sith. "Conflict is the forge of strength, Vetris. But you must learn to wield it, not let it wield you." Her voice was both soothing and stern, the duality that defined her mastery of the dark side. "Now, tell me more. We will work through this... together."Darth Vetris sat, his gaze fixed on the ancient stone floor, recalling the endless dunes of Tatooine. The words came slowly, his thoughts still a jumble. "As you know, Master, I've spent the last several years on Tatooine. It wasn't what I expected, but... I met someone. Her name is Shimi, and she has a son—Anakin. They've become important to me."

Darth Tanya studied him carefully, her brow slightly arched in intrigue. "Good," she said, her voice calm yet calculated. "I've always said you needed balance, something to anchor you. But I sense there's more to them than just comfort. What is it?"

Vetris nodded, his mind racing. "Yes, Anakin. The boy... he can wield the Force, and not just in minor ways. He's strong—especially for someone so young."

Tanya's eyes flickered with interest, but her voice remained steady. "A powerful Force-sensitive child on Tatooine, hidden away... intriguing. But you didn't come here to tell me how much potential he has. There's a problem, isn't there?"

"They're slaves," Vetris replied quietly, the bitterness clear in his tone.

At that word, Darth Tanya's demeanor shifted. The warmth she had shown moments before vanished like a puff of smoke, replaced with the cold, hard edge of the Sith. Her voice grew icy. "Slaves?" She paused, her gaze narrowing. "How have you resolved this problem?"

Vetris exhaled slowly. "I've made a deal with their owner, a parts merchant named Watto. I will work for him for the next four years to pay off Shimi's debt."

For the first time in their conversation, Darth Tanya's eyes widened slightly in disbelief. She moved closer, her presence suffocating. "You've shackled yourself to a *merchant*?" Her voice dripped with contempt. "You must care a great deal for these two to bind yourself to such a pathetic creature. Why not simply kill him and free them now? It would be the Sith way."

Vetris clenched his fists. "They have chips implanted in their necks. If Watto suspects anything, he can activate them and... they'll die."

Tanya considered this for a long moment, her eyes narrowing as her mind raced through the possibilities. "Perhaps," she mused, her tone softer, though still calculating. "But we are Sith. You could have forced him to release them, twisted his will, or manipulated him. Yet, you chose another path. You've shown *restraint, Vetris."

Vetris glanced up at her, unsure of how she would take his actions.

To his surprise, Tanya's lips curled into a slight smile, though it was devoid of malice. "You've impressed me, apprentice. You've shown wisdom in your actions. Restraint and patience are rare qualities for our kind—ones that, when wielded properly, are even more dangerous than raw power. You chose a path that protects them without drawing unnecessary attention."

Vetris swallowed, surprised by her words. He had expected reprimand, but instead felt a strange pride well up inside him. "Thank you, Master."

Darth Tanya's expression softened ever so slightly. "Remember this lesson, Vetris. Our power is not in how quickly we can destroy, but in how carefully we can control the game. The boy—Anakin—he may be a pawn now, but you have seen his potential. Keep him close. Guide him. He could be of great use to us in the future."

"I will," Vetris promised, his resolve strengthening. He would free them—Shimi and Anakin—and ensure their safety. But his path as a Sith, and his loyalty to Darth Tanya, remained.

Darth Tanya turned back to her scrolls, her voice calm once more. "Good. Now, focus on the task at hand. There is still much to learn, and the galaxy will not wait for your doubts to clear."

As the *Ebon Hawk* hurtled through hyperspace toward Tatooine, Braylen—*Darth Vetris*—sat alone in the dim cockpit, the endless stars blurring into lines around him. His mind, however, was far from the serenity of space. He had four years to train Anakin, to prepare him for... something. The Force was whispering to him, nudging him toward a future clouded with uncertainty. Braylen didn't know exactly what would happen, but he knew it was important. The boy's destiny was tied to something greater, and Vetris had a role to play.

But the immediate problem gnawed at him—Anakin didn't need a master in the traditional sense, not yet. The boy needed something far more difficult for Braylen to offer: a friend, perhaps even a father. That thought unsettled him more than any enemy he'd faced. He could fight, kill, deceive, and manipulate—but nurture? Care for a child? He clenched his fists, his mind flashing back to his own training—harsh, brutal, cold. That path could not be Anakin's. It would break him at best. At worst, it would twist the boy into something far darker than Braylen could control.

No, neither could be allowed.

Anakin was different, raw with potential but untainted by the darkness Braylen had walked in for so long. If he trained him the way he had been trained, he would snuff out that spark of innocence, of light. And yet, the boy needed to be stronger. He needed to be ready for whatever the Force was pushing them toward. How could he prepare him without crushing the very qualities that made him unique?

Braylen exhaled sharply, his mind racing. He needed to approach this from a different angle. Anakin wasn't just a future Force-wielder or some pawn to mold. He was a child, and like all children, he had things that anchored him to his world. For Anakin, those things were clear: his mother, Shmi, and his love for stories. That was the key.

Braylen allowed himself a small smile. *Stories... I can use that.*

He wouldn't train Anakin through pain or fear, as he had been. No, he would start by becoming someone Anakin trusted, someone he would listen to. The boy's love for tales—of heroes, of great battles, of distant worlds—would be the bridge between them. Through stories, he could weave lessons of the Force, of strength, of balance. He would teach Anakin to be strong without making him cruel, powerful without corrupting him.

But Braylen also knew that this new role—being something like a father—was a challenge he had no experience with. He had to navigate these next few years carefully. He couldn't afford to fail, not with Anakin's future hanging in the balance. The galaxy had already taken enough from the boy. Braylen wouldn't let it take more.

As Tatooine loomed ahead, Braylen resolved to walk a path he had never walked before—one of patience, understanding, and care. He would find strength in it, not just for Anakin, but for himself. Because if he could guide the boy without destroying him, maybe he would finally understand a part of the Force he had never been able to grasp.

And as for the stories? They would be the beginning of something far more powerful than any Sith training regime.

Braylen leaned back, his mind clearer now. The journey ahead would be difficult, but this was the path the Force had set before him. All he had to do was trust it, and trust in the bond he would build with Anakin.

I give you Darth Tanya and I also wanted to show you Braylen's sith side.