Fate of the Empire: Part 1

As the Wrath calmly strutted towards Marr at the forefront of his command bridge, he couldn't help but think of the Emperor.  His master, his sole ruler, was the only thing that kept the rage flowing through his veins.  "How could any being possibly strike down the dark lord?" He thought.  the war effort without his leadership was a disaster.  Infighting was destroying the dark council, as the Republic only grew more confident.  It took the fall of 3 star systems just to secure Makeb.  He knew that Darth Marr had a strategy, a plan that would make the Isotope 5 procured through the mining of Makeb worth every sacrifice.

"Why did you summon me here?" Inquired the Wrath.

Darth Marr calmly turned around to face the Wrath, his facial expression hid behind his iconic mask. Many of the other Dark Councilors expressed a certain distaste for the Emperor's Wrath because they feared for their lives. Marr however had taken a liking to the Wrath. The Wrath kept the council in line away from the self destructive tendencies of infighting and treachery for their own personal gain, and Marr appreciated that greatly. Darth Marr began to speak, "I summoned you here because the Council is in need of your services again." Darth Marr paused for a second to let the gravity of his request set in. "A few months ago, you aided the empire in securing vast amounts of Isotope 5 for our struggle against the republic. Now the Council's plans verge on fruition. You were among the strike team that eliminated Revan, so you are aware that we now possess the Foundry. Combined, we can create the most powerful droid army ever to exist and bring glory and victory to the empire in this war." Marr turned his back and gazed out into the cold void of space. "I find my focus a bit stretched by the magnitude of this event. I must maintain the defense of the empire as this project nears fruition as well as overseeing Darth Acina's progress with the technologies we have obtained. I must also keep the council in line to prevent infighting from destroying us. As such I have no time or energy to spare on the finer details of this operation. As such, the task falls to you to eliminate those who pose a significant threat to our operation here. Can you handle that?"

"Indeed I can, Darth Marr," replied the Wrath.  Through Marr's request his new purpose was forged, a new song written.  He would do as originally intended:  destroy the opponents of the Empire, and those foolish enough to stand in their way.  The Wrath felt his cold rage surging through his body, as it turned hot with angst.  He could feel his immense strength in the force rippling through his mind, further exercising his lust for battle.  As he opened his mouth, his dark feelings drifted to the corner of his heart, "Are there any enemies in particular that we must annihilate?" Hearing himself ask the question offered a moment of euphoria.  "And what of the Foundry?  Surely the Republic will try to retake it.  It would be foolish to leave anyone but the best of the best to safeguard it."  In this the Wrath took a more calculative tone, lest he let his warrior's mind get the better of him.

Darth Marr turned back to face the Wrath and addressed his inquiries. "The Foundary is perfectly safe under my oversight. My command of our forces is efficient enough to defend against the republic's army. There are however those few champions among them, or other third parties in this war interested in their own gain that may be capable of doing some damage, and that is why I need you to cross them off before they interfere with our operations. To do this you will be working with Darth Feral. Feral is a powerful Sith Lord, served as a personal adviser to the council, myself, and even the Emperor on numerous occasions, and has close ties with the Emperor's hands as well as imperial intelligence. He will assist you in finding and hunting down these threats whether they be Jedi, Crime Lords, Superweapons, or even insurgent Sith Lords." Marr had dealt with Feral before and could safely say Feral was one of the few men he could actually trust. "You will return to Dromund Kaas, and meet with Feral in the remnants of the Dark Temple. There you will begin your work and protect the integrity of this operation. I cannot devote too much of my time or attention to your task, however I will check in every once in a while and provide intel and assistance when needed."

"Fair enough Marr," began the Wrath, "See to it that the Empire has its retribution."  With that last utterance, the Wrath walked towards the hanger bay and began contemplating his orders.  Who is Darth Feral, and why must I work with him?  His very name offered the idea that he wasn't the brightest of Sith, and the Wrath cursed under his breath.  The Wrath worked alone, the only other people he worked with were his companions and those closely associated with the Emperor.  This made him think back to Marr's words, "Feral is a powerful Sith Lord, served as a personal adviser to the council, myself, and even the Emperor on numerous occasions, and has close ties with the Emperor's hands as well as imperial intelligence." If Feral had close ties to the Emperor, how come he'd never heard of him?  Regardless, the Wrath would do his job, and do it well.  Through his deep contemplations, he'd realized that he reached the hanger and could see The Fury docked in the middle.  As he boarded his ship, he felt a small ripple in the force.  It wouldn't even be noticed by an average force user, but he was far beyond such meager capabilities.  The Wrath had a feeling that Marr had also sensed the rippling, but doubted he would take any significant action.  The Wrath deemed it irrelevant, and set the coordinates to Dromund Kaas.

Darth Necros walked with utter confidence through the ruins of the Dark Temple. The air was stale and thick with the dark side of the Force. Screams and sinister sounds of pain and insanity filled the air around him as glorious chaos ensued around him. The sound of insanity and death made him feel at home in this place.  Necros moved through the chaos and madness unabated, and unseen. Thinking back to the map he acquired of the temple, he made his way towards the tomb of an ancient sith sorcerer. A heavy door barred the way before him, somehow still intact despite all the rubble around it. Necros recited the incantation that this sorcerer used to lock the door, and it slid open, revealing an empty room with a small stone stand in the middle. Necros couldn't help but be reminded of Darth Ferox's tomb. On top of the stool sat a sith holocron. Necros smiled, "You are exactly what I came here for."  He thought as he approached the holocron. Necros reached out a hand to grab the holocron, but as soon as his hand touched it, the holocron disappeared.

"For hundreds of years I have waited for someone strong in the force to be lured into my tomb, in hopes of recovering my holocron" A deep sickening voice filled the air around him, and a shining blue spirit formed in front of Necros. "Waiting for some fool who thinks I would ever pass on my knowledge to the first person to lay their hands on my holocron," The spirit said, and the door behind Necros slammed shut.

"So, no holocron then?" Darth Necros asked after letting out a disappointed sigh.

"I would never share my secrets!" The sith spirit spat, "And now that you are here I will steal your body and reap havoc on the universe!"

"You know, I don't need your holocron to acquire your knowledge." Necros smiled, then he lifted his hands towards the spirit and began to chant.

Darth Feral sat in his lavish and extravagant chair, his silver eyes staring at the ancient sith transcript of a sith lord named Ajunta Pall, the first dark lord of the sith. the ancient text was said to have been written by the ancient dark lord himself, it spoke of powerful and lost techniques of the ancient and lost sword combat. Back when combat was made up of swords Feral smiled at the thought of returning to the days of old, he continued to reading the various transcripts that were sprawled out over his desk, some ranged from the days of Marka Ragnos, Freedon Nadd Tulak Hord and Vitiate himself, while others were more recent, showing the defeat of the mad jedi Revan, the ransacking of corousant and the death of powerful sith lords like Darth Nyriss and Lord Vindican. Powerful my foot! Those fools were about as powerful as a newborn gizka! While Feral was respected as strategist and a sith , it had taken The emperor's interference and his order to have the Dark Council grant him the title of 'Darth' many Councilors disliked him, save for one. Darth Marr, Marr had been the only one that respected him and saw beyond his age. the two sith would actually consider themselves not only allies but friends, something that was rare in the society of the sith. Marr had respected his opinion and Feral his, during the reign of their now dead lord, Vitiate, both had worked quite closely with each other, with Feral often opting to meet the emperor and Marr in secret. Suddenly the twin doors to his quarters flew opened, drawing the attention of the young sith lord. "Lord Wrath, What a pleasure it is to finally meet face to face" he gave a catlike grin to the sith pureblood. "I have heard so much about you from master Marr and I must say I am excited to be working together with such a legendary warrior such as yourself" Feral motioned to one of his chairs, he never really cared for material things, but living like hermit never really struck fear or envy into anyone. "Come, why don't you take a seat, I am sure we have much to talk about, especially now that we will be working very closely"

Unfortunately, yes the Wrath thought.  Feral gave him a very slimy feeling, he seemed like more of a diplomat than a warrior.  Sadly, this was the man he'd have to take to the Dark Temple, one of the most powerful concentrations of dark side energy in the galaxy.  The Wrath danced a thought in his head, a thought of Darth Feral resorting to gibbering madness when faced with the Temple's power.  After registering these thoughts in but three seconds, he decided to speak.  "We're going to have to seek whatever dark secrets we can in the temple to help the war effort against the Republic," declared the Wrath, calm and collected.  "If necessarily, we may have to fight mad sith lords , or perhaps even the spirits of the ancient dark masters.  Are you up to the task?"  Before Feral could answer, a powerful rippling through the force struck the duo, as if something was awakened.  Putting the pieces together, they knew that it emanated from the Dark Temple, and they decided to act sooner rather than later.  "We must go to the temple, now!"

The sith spirit fell to its knees and howled in pain. Darth Necros never used this ritual on a sith spirit before but it seemed to be working. He continued chanting.

"You will never have my knowledge." The sith spirit roared as it struggled with all of its might to combat the ritual Necros was enacting. Necros's chanting grew louder and more powerful, but the siths spirits will would not cave. The two stood evenly matched for what seemed like an eternity, neither giving into the other. Then finally in a fantastic finally the sith spirit exploded. Darth Necros was sent crashing through the heavy door that sealed the tomb. He landed and rolled along the ground a few meters away, finally coming to a stop. Blasted! He shouted in his mind. The sith spirit was destroyed before Necros could steal its knowledge. Necros slowly stood up and brushed his robes off. Maybe there is a holocron worth unlocking still hidden in this temple. He thought, Im just going to have to look around. Before he could even take a step he sensed them. Two powerful dark siders making there way towards him. Necros's lightsaber flew into his hand, and ignited. It blade glowing with crimson hate.

"Let me guess, more assassins sent to kill me?" Necros pointed his blade towards them. "How many do I have to kill before the Dark Council finally gives up?"

Feral and Wrath exchanged quick glances at each other before bring their full attention to the infamous rogue sith. Both sith lords drew their hilts, as the Wrath's violet blades hissed alive. Feral began to speak, his lightsaber ready should things go south. "Stealing a holocron from the very capital of the empire? that is very foolish of you," Feral's blade sprang to life, the green light providing a great contrast to those of any other sith lord. The two sith lords circled around the rogue sith, like a pack of dreaded Rancors playing with their meal. The Wrath charged Necros his twin violet blades meeting the crimson blade with great force, each of the Wrath's strike were more ferocious and devastating then the last, Feral quickly joined in on the dance of blades, Necros had begun to feel weary, these sith lords were no strangers to lightsaber combat. Necros quickly parried Feral's blade and delivered a swift and powerful blow to his stomach, ignoring his fallen comrade, the Wrath charged at the rogue sith drawing his rage to amplify his already powerful attacks, Necros quickly stretched his hand out towards the raging pureblood and let out a dozen forks of lightning, the forks pierced through the Wrath, pushing with great force towards a large statue of the late emperor crushing it instantly and turning it into its original form - chunks of rock. "Wrath!" Feral cried out, he received no response, he quickly jumped to his feet, a catlike smile began to form on his lips. "Impressive Master Necros, but you are about to experienced true swordsmanship!" Feral called his hilt to his hand and ignited the green blade, entering the Makashi stance, Feral charged at the former sith forcing him to take to the defensive, Necros expertly parried all of Feral's strikes and slashed at him when ever he could, But feral remained on the offensive, his attacks elegant yet ferocious, the two sith engaged in a lightsaber-lock both men fought for domination over each other. "Give up master Necros! if you do then I will make sure the council-" His sentence was cut off a vision of his parents filled his eyes. "Come darling why don't you join us" his mother beckoned, his mind felt like it was spinning. Mother? no, no! you died! you're not real! Feral was starting to break free of the illusion but the damage was done. Channeling the dark side, Necros shot out dozens of lightning forks at Feral, hitting him directly on his chest, making the young sith lord cry out in pain.

As Feral collapsed to the ground screaming in pain, Necros lurched in with his lightsaber to deliver the death blow.  Before the blade found its mark, however, an enormous piece of the statue that buried the Wrath came surging towards Necros.  He used a force shield to defend against the worst of the blow, but he was still sent ten meters back, slamming into a pile of rubble.  While Necros quickly got up, Violet lines danced through the air as the Wrath sprinted towards Necros.  with the Wrath using the intricate moves of Jar'kai, along with the overwhelming speed of Juyo, Necros was already on the defensive.  As the Wrath dealt seven strikes with each lightsaber in a mere second, Necros had left his force defenses weakened.  the Wrath disarmed Necros with telekinesis, and he halved the blade with a swift stroke of his lightsaber.  Necros then performed a mental assault on the Wrath, using the energies of the dark temple to amplify his powers.  Memories began flashing through the Wrath's head, of his old family, his upbringing into the Sith Academy, the betrayal of Darth Baras --

The Emperor.

As thoughts of the past, present, and even future began tormenting the Wrath, his mind threatened to rip itself apart.  "I am the darkside!" Yelled the Wrath, as he drew his rage, his anger, his dread power, into a manifestation of energy.  the Wrath let out an immense force scream, the raw energy output all but atomizing much of the stone rubble, and sending Necros flying backward.  Necros stood back up slowly, and let loose a torrent of lightning.  The Wrath crossed his blades in an X formation, and turned the bolts on the one who'd casted them.  Although Necros dissipated much of the energy through tutaminis, his hands and arms began to scorch as he let out a hiss of hatred.  the Wrath then clipped his blades onto his waist, and raised an arm in Necros's direction.  Necros could feel his ribs being crushed by the power of the darkside, the power exerted on him too potent to resist.  Before destroying his ribcage completely, the Wrath slammed Necros into the ground.  Necros looked up at the Wrath, and the latter began inspecting him, much to Necros's surprise.  Feral began walking towards the duo as the Wrath stated, "we could use your assistance."

"So you are having problems with the prisoner?" Marr inquired. "I've encountered some problems of my own," he said as he glanced down at the Jedi pressed against his body with Marr's arm wrapped tightly around his neck. "If this... Darth Necros is going to form an alliance with us, then such a decision will require the collective wisdom of the council," Darth Marr continued.

The Jedi squirmed beneath Marr's grasp, almost breaking free, but Marr only squeezed his arm tighter around the man's throat before speaking into the comlink installed in his helmet. "The Dark Council will congregate in two days on Korriban. We will be expecting your presence," Marr said before cutting off the transmission.

Now free from his other engagements, Marr returned his attention to the battle at hand. He reached his hand around the Jedi's head, grabbed it, and wrenched it away from his body, hearing a satisfying snap as the Jedi's neck broke.

Dropping the now lifeless Jedi to the ground, Marr turned his attention to the two Jedi Masters charging his way. Some people just never learn, Marr thought to himself.

When they reached him, they both swung at the Dark Lord at once, hoping to overwhelm him with their combined effort, but Darth Marr was much too cunning for that. He closed his left hand around the forearm of the Jedi coming in on his left, and swung his blade hard at the Jedi on the right, catching his blade and throwing him off balance.

Unable to move with his weapon arm caught in Marr's steel grip, the Jedi on Marr's left could do nothing as the Sith Lord plunged his own crimson blade straight through his heart.

As the second Jedi regained his composure, Marr pulled on the dying Jedi's wrist, dragged him off of his blade, and tossed his almost lifeless body at the Jedi on his right.

As the Jedi attempted to catch his companion, Marr swung his blade upwards, carving the Jedi's weapon arm off at the shoulder. Screaming in pain, the Jedi fell to his knees, his left arm clutching at the empty space where his right arm used to be. Darth Marr quickly swung his blade around, cleaving the Jedi's head from his body and ending his screams forever.

As Darth Marr brought his head up from the pile of dead Jedi that now stood before him, he was surprised to see the face of a Jedi Master calmly walking towards him. A Jedi he had believed to be dead.

"Master Braga?" Darth Marr asked with a surprised tone of voice. "You were declared dead by agents of the Star Cabal not even a year ago."

"And I did indeed die," the Kel Dor master replied, a look of shame and guilt obscured behind his breath mask. "I died aboard the Emperor's fortress the moment your master touched my mind. After that I walked around an empty shell of what I had once been, but your Emperor's killer, the Order's finest, the Hero of Tython has granted me a second chance at life," Tol Braga said, his voice filled with newfound purpose.

"And so you have come to redeem me" Marr responded, telling more than asking. "A bold strategy, but a foolish one."

"I learned in the Emperor's fortress that not everyone can be redeemed. My friend gave me a second chance at life, I'm not going to waste it and leave the Galaxy in turmoil on the off chance you can be redeemed. Your end grows nearer, just like that of your Empire" Braga stated as a red blade blade sprung from the hilt of his lightsaber, a cold reminder that he had peered into the Emperor's mind, and what it had done to him. The blade of a Sith in the hands of a Jedi.

Darth Marr brought his own blade in front of him as he prepared to charge at his adversary. "You are a powerful Jedi master Braga, but before the might of the Empire, you are nothing."

Darth Marr flung himself at Tol Braga with malignant grace as he rained down a flurry of heavy blows at the Kel Dor. Red blades clashed and sizzled as they illuminated the night sky. There was a brief pause as Marr marveled at how his opponent had survived the initial clash of their blades. Braga's application of Soresu was almost perfect, but Marr's own application of Djem So was greater still.

Marr reengaged his adversary, raining another series of blows at his opponent, this one more powerful and focused then the last. The Kel Dor began to give ground under the fury of Marr's assault. He was doing his best to fend off the Sith Lord, but the outcome was inevitable.

Marr lifted his blade above his head, and brought it down on the left with all of his might. When Braga intercepted the blow and barely managed to hold it at bay, Marr moved in and kneed the master in the gut with his right leg. As Braga doubled over in pain, Marr took his left hand off of his lightsaber, clenched it into a fist, and drew it across the exposed Jedi Master's face.

Braga's head and body snapped to the side as a burst of gas escaped from his now damaged breath mask. Marr was relentless. Before Braga had a chance to recover, Marr threw his left leg up and caught the master in the rib cage with the edge of his armored boot. As Braga's body collapsed to the ground, Marr outstretched his left palm.

"Run Kira!" was the last desperate cry that escaped Tol Braga's mouth before he was consumed by a storm of crackling lightning that ravaged his body, and ended his life forever.

"No!!!" Marr heard from his left as a young Jedi Knight charged towards him with a blue bladed saberstaff in her hands. He could see the fire in her eyes as she drew ever closer to his position.

When she was but a few feet away from him, Marr turned to his left and, with a simple gesture, called upon the power of the dark side, releasing a wave of energy that stopped the young woman dead in her tracks and brought her to her knees. Her head snapped upright as she began to claw at her neck with her hands, gasping for breath.

With his left hand outstretched towards the young women, he clipped his lightsaber back onto his belt with his left, and activated the communications array within his helmet.

"Captain," Darth Marr addressed the man he was now speaking to. "Prepare my shuttle for immediate takeoff. I have an old friend to visit on Korriban."

He cut off the transmission, and turned back to the young human. After watching her struggle against the invisible hand wrapped around her neck for a few more seconds, Marr clenched his left hand into a fist, and watched the light leave her eyes.

Through the force, Marr felt her life vanish, snuffed out by the unstoppable power of the Dark Side. Marr stared at her cold lifeless body for a few seconds before turning his back on her, and taking a few steps towards the charred body that once was Tol Braga. He reached down, and picked up the fallen Jedi's lightsaber. After surveying it for a few seconds, he clipped it on his belt, and walked off in the direction of his shuttle.

Feral nudged Necros along the sand of korriban towards the sith academy. "Do you guys have to keep me in cuffs?" Necros asked, aggravatedly fiddling with the cuffs around his wrists.

"You are a prisoner," Feral stated, "and frankly I don't trust you without them on." Necros frowned in disapproval.

"The Dark Council wants to meet with me. That makes me sound more like an honored guest than a prisoner." Necros stopped walking and looked Feral in the eyes challengingly. Feral glared back then broke off the contest by nudging Necros along again. Necros turned towards the Wrath. "You trust me don't you?" The Wrath didn't even look his way when he responded.

"Im not foolish enough to trust anyone." The Wrath said. Necros smiled in approval.

"You should take notes from that guy." Necros teased Feral. Feral nudged him again.

"Just shut up and walk." Feral said. Necros obeyed for the time being. As they walked towards the academy Darth Necros was taken back. He hadn't seen the sith academy ever since he left to go search that sith tomb all those years ago. He nearly forgot what it looked like. The place looked nearly the same, the large statues still towering over everything. The air still dry and sandy. The red stone it was made out of was still worn and old looking. Necros almost had a rush of nostalgia returning to this place. As they moved through the academy Necros looked around at all the apprentices. Weak all of them. A many of them apprentices stopped to watch the two sith lords escort the prisoner through the halls. No doubt many of the apprentices had heard of him before, after all he was infamous. Necros closes his eyes and projected the image of a rancor slashing at each individual apprentice into there minds. All the apprentices jumped simultaneously. Necros burst out laughing.

"Quit fooling around." Feral said and nudged Necros along.

"Fine, fine." Necros said. And began climbing the stairs up to the next level. The three of them got into an elevator and rode it to a restricted wing of the academy. They walked up to a door and a sith opened it for them. The three walked into the Dark Council chamber. "So what was so important that you had to dragg me the whole way out here?" Necros asked as soon as they entered the chamber and flashed a smile.

Darth Marr glanced at his fellow councilors around the chamber. With the death of Darth Rictus a few days ago, the council numbered at only seven Lords, a ruin of what it once was.

Ravage was the first to speak up. "Yes why indeed have you brought this man before us? We have already spent more time on him than he is worth. Let us just kill him and move on."

"Quiet Ravage!" Marr quickly interjected. "This lord has a natural affinity for the Dark Side that cannot be ignored. It would serve our best interests to at least consider an alliance with him."

"Still, if he were to betray us, then he would be a formidable opponent indeed," Darth Mortis added in.

"If he betrays us, then he will die!" Marr responded to the concerns of his fellow councilors, before turning back to Necros.

"Darth Necros, butcher of the living and master of the dead," Marr addressed the prisoner. "We have chased you across the Galaxy for decades, and now you come before the council bound in chains."

"You flatter me with your hospitality," Necros snidely remarked.

"Let me make one thing clear," Marr continued. "You have caused the Dark Council a lot of trouble in the past decade, and the only reason you are still alive is because we are allowing it. Know that if you refuse to cooperate, or if you betray us, then I will personally remove your head from your body."

Necros looked around the room weighing his chances. Every one of these people that now surrounded him were immensely powerful. He had absolutely no chance of escaping this room, and even if he did, there was no chance at all he'd make it off of Korriban alive.

"Should you choose to assist us however, we will see fit to reward you," Marr continued. "If you fully cooperate with us throughout this operation, then we will give you a seat on the council alongside us as the head of the Sphere of Mysteries."

"This is preposterous!" Ravage interrupted. "This Sith has defied the will of the Council for years, and now you are offering him a place on it?!"

"Enough Ravage!" Marr shouted as the air inside of his mask grew hot with rage. Every time Marr tried to promote somebody to the Dark Council, Ravage made it as difficult as possible for him. Ravage claimed whatever Sith Marr was going to promote was unworthy, however Marr knew the real reason. Marr knew that Ravage did not wish to share power with another lord.

This beyond anything else is what irritated Marr. Marr briefly pondered if it was possible to put an end to the infighting of the Sith, or perhaps even... turn it into a strength. He quickly dismissed the idea however, knowing such an impossible task would take a Sith far more intelligent and powerful than himself to accomplish.

Marr once again turned his attention back to Necros and waved his hand. Suddenly Necros's shackles fell off of his body and onto the ground with a loud clang. Marr then stood up from his council chair and walked towards Necros as the two lords stared face to face at each other.

"If you accept my offer now I have two gifts for you." Marr swiftly plucked the lightsaber of Tol Braga from his belt and held it out in front of him in his right hand. "A lightsaber to replace yours..." Marr knew it would take more than a lightsaber to win Necros over, but he noticed a look of lust and desire overcome Necros's face as he held up an item in his left hand, shaped like a small pyramid. "And the holocron of Darth Drear."

Darth Drear had been the creator of the sickness. He had intended to use it as an elixir of immortality, but he had failed to stabilize the virus in time, and it had instead transformed him and all others infected into undead monstrosities. This holocron contained all of Drear's knowledge and teachings.

Marr could feel Necros's interest peaking through the force. He could feel Necros's desire for it seething from his body. All of his thought was bent on it. Marr smiled beneath his mask as he knew he now had something to barter with. "Do we have a deal?"

Necros looked around the Dark Council chamber. All of Necros's enemies sat on high throne like chairs throughout the room. Accepting the offer would not make them any less his enemy, but it would prolong his life. Then Necros turned his head towards the lightsaber and holocron that Darth Marr held towards him.

"You want to just put aside an entire decade of being enemies  to work together?" Necros asked, and bagan pacing back and forth, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "What could be so important that you would do that?" Necros asked to himself. He turned on his heals and faced Darth Marr again. "I have one question," Necros said coming face to face with Marr again. "Do I get one of those big chairs?" Marr nodded in response. Necros face split into a grin, he plucked the lightsaber and the holocron from Marrs grasp. "We have a deal."

Darth Ghore—the newly appointed chairman of the Dark Council’s Sphere of Biotic Science—ventured through the dreary halls of the vast fortress of one of the sphere’s most revered members, the infamous Darth Malikus.  He had been contacted by his underling with promises of groundbreaking advancement in the sciences, and now was to meet with him personally.  Surrounding himself with a small squadron of the Empire’s most elite Sith troopers, he had already encountered countless of abominations produced by Malikus’s infamous biological experiments.

Approaching the corridor where he was to rendezvous with the ambitious Bith, he sensed a cry in the Force directly ahead of his party, with vast power behind it’s call.  As the durasteel doors opened, Ghore realized he had no idea what he was walking into.

_________

Darth Malikus found a strange pleasure in the horror of his superior’s expression as he entered the room.

“Magnificent, is it not?” Malikus mused heartily, genuinely curious of his overseer’s opinion.

The terror on Darth Ghore’s face had turned to disgust.  “What is that vile thing!?”

Before them was a massive, fleshy, warped creature that echoed of sheer pain, spores and unnatural growths sprouting out of it’s body in odd shapes.  It screamed of unchecked rage and despair, it was malice given form.

“It is the future, Lord Ghore,” he declared with no sign of emotion toward the subject.  “If you want specifics, what you are looking at is my former apprentice, Faux.”

Ghore’s eyes narrowed.  There had been stories of the madness of the Bith Dark Lord, but he had not suspected that his own apprentice would fall victim to his insanity.  “Why have you summoned me here?  I will not tolerate any more of your riddles!”

Malikus’s expression darkened in a millisecond.  “I wanted to share this with you, my lord.  I wanted you to see the potential that lies beyond this specimen.  Faux was weak, unworthy to even be my apprentice,” he went on, “and now he is a beast of immense power, one that can be easily controlled—he is of far more worth in his current state…” he waved his hand and like a cancer, a force-induced toxin spread rapidly through the bodies of Ghore’s escorts, dropping them to the ground, writhing in pain.

Ghore’s eyes flickered back to Malikus, who had ignited his golden blade.  “Wouldn’t you be most fascinated in finding out what would happen if I had someone much more powerful to work with?”

_________

Darth Ghore would not back down to this challenge.  An accomplished scientist, yes, but Ghore was a Sith Warrior first.  He inhaled as his crimson blade flickered on, and adopted a Djem So stance before charging in with a downward chop, only for it to slice nothing but air.

He pivoted, and attempted to halve his adversary with a diagonal slash, only for it to be lightly brushed to the side.  Hacking and slashing at Malikus furiously, Ghore found himself making no ground, his slashes either being brushed to the side with an elaborate parry or missing their long gone target entirely.  Golden blade flashing, twirling effortlessly between his fingers, Malikus was a master fencer.  Regardless, Ghore reasoned, he made no move to attack, so he surely must be pinned by the assault.

With renewed confidence, the Dark Councillor lashed out with the Force, sending an invisible wave to send his Bith adversary crashing away.  Or at least it should have.  Malikus flipped a switch on his suit with astonishing speed, and was only backed up a step, entirely unfazed by the wave that sent mechanical equipment flying all around them.  Darth Ghore froze in horror, his opponent deathly still.

And then he laughed.

It was a sickly cackle, devoid of humor or heart, and abundant of mockery and spite.  Ghore noticed him flip two more switches on his advanced suit, before flying straight for him.

Now it was Ghore who was on the defensive, desperately blocking and parrying blindingly fast thrusts and strikes.  It was as if his adversary wasn’t even touching the ground.  Within seconds he was driven to the back wall, rolling to the side he narrowly missed a decapitating slash.  Before he could recover, Malikus unleashed a torrent of Sith Lightning in his direction.  Snaking it’s way past the puny defenses the chairman’s lightsaber provided, it sent it’s unfortunate recipient sprawling across the floor, screaming in agony.

The electricity’s flow ending abruptly, Darth Ghore aspired in a pitiful attempt to stand, but he knew the effort was futile.  Shaking in fear, he grabbed for his lightsaber’s ignition.  He would not allow himself to become that thing!  Bringing his blade to his neck, an invisible force froze him in his tracks, unable to move any of the muscles in his body.

“My sincerest apologies, my lord, but I went through far too much trouble bringing you here to have you dying...” Malikus rasped, as he injected himself with what appeared to be stimulating toxins.

Ghore wanted to cry out, to call upon the Dark Council to smite this maniac, but his efforts resulted in little more than a twitch just below his right eye.  “You will be a perfect subject, purebloods have such a fascinating relationship with the Dark Side, after all.” he jeered with a restored vigor, placing his crackling hand on his overseer’s chest.

It as then that Ghore’s final comprehensive thoughts were of the sheer agony of being ripped apart from the inside out.

_________

It had been five days since then.

Darth Malikus stood under peaceful night sky, before him is a datapad projecting the image of a large Sith Pureblood encased in jet-black armor.  The Emperor’s former personal executioner, and a traitor to the Empire.

“The Emperor’s Wrath…  Make no mistake, Scourge, soon I will find you wherever you’re hiding, and I will have the secrets of your body.” the Bith Lord of the Sith mused, the shadow of a massive beast enveloping him.

Because only I may live forever

“Let’s be off then, my magnificent pet.” he declared as he set off, the disfigured form of what was once was known as Darth Ghore following closely behind, creating tremors with each step.

END OF CHAPTER 1