The chasm proved to be a rift between two worlds, a tunnel that cared little for time or space and connected two different locations. One strongly reminiscent of Hell, the other as well. It was quite unfortunate that after escaping that terrible, bloody place where air reeked of vapour, the Sith Lord ended up in an equally terrifying location, one that used to be a jewel before given to the monstrous Vong that corrupted the planet to its core, mercilessly remaking it. All of that wouldn’t have been so bad if not for an additional side-effect many experienced when going through this particular portal. As soon as Avreet regained consciousness, he felt an unexplainable need to kill. A surprisingly strong urge that became utterly overwhelming, making his body shake. The small part of his mind shielded by his personal code immediately knew something was wrong.
Honour, reason, principles, morality, compassion; it all clumped together in a desperate attempt to overpower the urge to murder, the sudden and unexpected wave of insanity that washed over the Mon Cal’s mind, but to no avail. All that remained was bloodlust, utter hatred for everything that lived. Someone had to die. Deep inside, the amphibious Sith was horrified; Avreet was a noble soul, never letting primitive urges such as thirst for blood affect his actions. This made the situation all the more frightening to whatever remained of him. The honourable man who always followed his principles and personal mantra could only helplessly watch as the body he no longer controlled got up, large amber eyes wildly looked around, searching for a victim. Discovering none, the Mon Calamari strode through the vongformed city, searching for someone to kill.
The Sith Lord always taught his students to have some morals, principles to cling to. Those separated Sith from Dark Jedi, civilized beings from wild beasts. Once one had a set of principles, a code of their own, they had to follow it no matter what, always and everywhere. The strict moral compass guided the Mon Calamari through his entire life, an impenetrable wall made out of tenets he could not break. Many Sith thought him a weakling for it; a Sith should not be restrained by anything, a Sith had to unleash all emotions, become their slave. And that is exactly what Avreet believed to be wrong. While he did show restraint, it ultimately gave him much more freedom that being a slave of the Dark Side. He was the one in control, keeping the Force on a tight leash, never letting the corrupting influence of the Dark Side poison his mind. His friend, Yr’il, had succumbed to madness, and he definitely did not want to end like her; a bloodthirsty, insane animal hell-bent on causing suffering and pain. Avreet was the Dark Side’s master, not the other way around. His sense of honour gave him the necessary strength to resist all attempts of the Dark Side to take over his mind.
This probably had to do much with his old Master. The Sith Assassin still remembered her words when she explained her views on killing.
"A Sith - a true Sith does not kill needlessly. To kill a weaker opponent is not only cowardly, but it shows your weakness. Unless of course the fool challenges you, be it another Sith or a Jedi, then it is your duty to eradicate the weak.
Kill in defence. When you are threatened with death or attacked without cause, you must kill. It is a self-preservation idea.
Kill to achieve a goal. Throughout your training and tenure as a Sith you will be tasked with missions. If by killing an enemy success is warranted, do not hesitate to do so.
Never kill without purpose... this idea is vague but important. Fear may be a powerful ally, but if you simply kill whenever you feel like it, those you seek to oppress with fear will one day find courage and there is no greater enemy in the galaxy than one who fights with a cause.
Never kill for pleasure! It is distasteful."
Her words rang through his ears as his cybernetic hand clasped the lightsaber containing Lady Zarrah’s crystal, feeling her presence dimly radiating off the hilt. Avreet was a true Sith. And yet, he moved through the suspiciously empty street, seeking people to kill just for the sake for killing, for pleasure. That wasn’t the Sith way. That was the path Dark Jedi followed. Weaklings unable to control themselves and their violent urges, unable to spend a day without murdering someone. He was about to join their ranks, become a pathetic creature acting on his instincts and urges, waiting for someone stronger to put him out of his misery.
Someone appeared on the horizon, several figures clad in armour. Avreet’s vision was blurred, clouded by red mist that made it impossible to tell their allegiance. Sith, Vong, Republic, something entirely different; he did not care. His mind thought of them as dead bodies, first victims of his murderous rampage. As his thumb pressed the ignition button and the blade of his lightsaber sprang to life, the Sith’s consciousness free of the red cloud made one last desperate attempt to bring clarity back to his mind. Empowered by his old Master’s presence, the woman he both respected and loved, all attempts of self-control were focused into the cybernetic hand. He had another victim, something he truly hated, a Dark Jedi. Himself. The Imperial patriot and his ruthless Sith ally stood together, united, and pushed against their enemy. The right hand obediently followed the command and Avreet put the crimson plasma blade through his own chest.
The sudden pain and shock brought a surprising amount of relief to his tortured mind. The cloud’s been lifted and he could think clearly again, the sound of his lightsaber being extinguished hardly registered by his ears. He could not walk anymore. His legs suddenly lacked the strength to support the weight of the body, which resulted in Avreet falling to his knees. Breathing became incredibly difficult and the Mon Cal’s mouth opened and closed as he gasped for air. He knew he did not have much time left. All of his mind focused on his successful students that would carry on his teachings, such as Sabrina. And, of course, he thought of Lady Zarrah, his love. Given their bond, she’d definitely feel his life rapidly fading away. Hopefully she'd be proud of her former apprentice though; he lived as a Sith, died as a Sith.
Someone turned off the lights, day became night, leaving the Mon Cal in darkness and pain. Avreet wanted to blink and see the sun again, but his eyes remained shut. Deep inside, within his consciousness, he wanted to think about something… something he planned to do… but didn’t really care anymore. Nothing mattered. All he felt was peace and comfort, only his stubborn will keeping him alive, but that was gone in the next moment as his body became nothing but a sack of flesh and bone and slumped towards the cold ground.
Honour, reason, principles, morality, compassion; it all clumped together in a desperate attempt to overpower the urge to murder, the sudden and unexpected wave of insanity that washed over the Mon Cal’s mind, but to no avail. All that remained was bloodlust, utter hatred for everything that lived. Someone had to die. Deep inside, the amphibious Sith was horrified; Avreet was a noble soul, never letting primitive urges such as thirst for blood affect his actions. This made the situation all the more frightening to whatever remained of him. The honourable man who always followed his principles and personal mantra could only helplessly watch as the body he no longer controlled got up, large amber eyes wildly looked around, searching for a victim. Discovering none, the Mon Calamari strode through the vongformed city, searching for someone to kill.
The Sith Lord always taught his students to have some morals, principles to cling to. Those separated Sith from Dark Jedi, civilized beings from wild beasts. Once one had a set of principles, a code of their own, they had to follow it no matter what, always and everywhere. The strict moral compass guided the Mon Calamari through his entire life, an impenetrable wall made out of tenets he could not break. Many Sith thought him a weakling for it; a Sith should not be restrained by anything, a Sith had to unleash all emotions, become their slave. And that is exactly what Avreet believed to be wrong. While he did show restraint, it ultimately gave him much more freedom that being a slave of the Dark Side. He was the one in control, keeping the Force on a tight leash, never letting the corrupting influence of the Dark Side poison his mind. His friend, Yr’il, had succumbed to madness, and he definitely did not want to end like her; a bloodthirsty, insane animal hell-bent on causing suffering and pain. Avreet was the Dark Side’s master, not the other way around. His sense of honour gave him the necessary strength to resist all attempts of the Dark Side to take over his mind.
This probably had to do much with his old Master. The Sith Assassin still remembered her words when she explained her views on killing.
"A Sith - a true Sith does not kill needlessly. To kill a weaker opponent is not only cowardly, but it shows your weakness. Unless of course the fool challenges you, be it another Sith or a Jedi, then it is your duty to eradicate the weak.
Kill in defence. When you are threatened with death or attacked without cause, you must kill. It is a self-preservation idea.
Kill to achieve a goal. Throughout your training and tenure as a Sith you will be tasked with missions. If by killing an enemy success is warranted, do not hesitate to do so.
Never kill without purpose... this idea is vague but important. Fear may be a powerful ally, but if you simply kill whenever you feel like it, those you seek to oppress with fear will one day find courage and there is no greater enemy in the galaxy than one who fights with a cause.
Never kill for pleasure! It is distasteful."
Her words rang through his ears as his cybernetic hand clasped the lightsaber containing Lady Zarrah’s crystal, feeling her presence dimly radiating off the hilt. Avreet was a true Sith. And yet, he moved through the suspiciously empty street, seeking people to kill just for the sake for killing, for pleasure. That wasn’t the Sith way. That was the path Dark Jedi followed. Weaklings unable to control themselves and their violent urges, unable to spend a day without murdering someone. He was about to join their ranks, become a pathetic creature acting on his instincts and urges, waiting for someone stronger to put him out of his misery.
Someone appeared on the horizon, several figures clad in armour. Avreet’s vision was blurred, clouded by red mist that made it impossible to tell their allegiance. Sith, Vong, Republic, something entirely different; he did not care. His mind thought of them as dead bodies, first victims of his murderous rampage. As his thumb pressed the ignition button and the blade of his lightsaber sprang to life, the Sith’s consciousness free of the red cloud made one last desperate attempt to bring clarity back to his mind. Empowered by his old Master’s presence, the woman he both respected and loved, all attempts of self-control were focused into the cybernetic hand. He had another victim, something he truly hated, a Dark Jedi. Himself. The Imperial patriot and his ruthless Sith ally stood together, united, and pushed against their enemy. The right hand obediently followed the command and Avreet put the crimson plasma blade through his own chest.
The sudden pain and shock brought a surprising amount of relief to his tortured mind. The cloud’s been lifted and he could think clearly again, the sound of his lightsaber being extinguished hardly registered by his ears. He could not walk anymore. His legs suddenly lacked the strength to support the weight of the body, which resulted in Avreet falling to his knees. Breathing became incredibly difficult and the Mon Cal’s mouth opened and closed as he gasped for air. He knew he did not have much time left. All of his mind focused on his successful students that would carry on his teachings, such as Sabrina. And, of course, he thought of Lady Zarrah, his love. Given their bond, she’d definitely feel his life rapidly fading away. Hopefully she'd be proud of her former apprentice though; he lived as a Sith, died as a Sith.
Someone turned off the lights, day became night, leaving the Mon Cal in darkness and pain. Avreet wanted to blink and see the sun again, but his eyes remained shut. Deep inside, within his consciousness, he wanted to think about something… something he planned to do… but didn’t really care anymore. Nothing mattered. All he felt was peace and comfort, only his stubborn will keeping him alive, but that was gone in the next moment as his body became nothing but a sack of flesh and bone and slumped towards the cold ground.