Crossroad

[Zakir Thaun]

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0825;// LOCATION: Carrania <| Serenno <| Outer Rim Territories​

Darth Pyrrhus​

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"At last.." The troubled Zabrak, Zakir, exited the Carranian Spaceport, his eyes set at the city before him, carrying a mere satchel. Before him; Carrania's towers and buildings reaching as far as the horizon and he knew it was the place for him to begin his purpose seeking; A storm of emotions burned from inside, he served no great noble purpose, he wasn't ambitious, but he was furious. He seeked vengeance upon the world... whatever caused his family's misery must be repaid with equal pain, and he was eager to take his revenge.

He seated himself in a transport cab and routed down- to the undercity. He did not fear the odd kinds down there, and he did not pay them mind; he wasn't there for chatter or for stinky business, he was there to take vengeance upon the world, he seeked misery and pain for all those who once were hostile to his family; and there were many which he did not know, but those he did were a target.
Equipped with an A180 blaster pistol and his fury, he tracked his way throughout the undercity's alleyways and darkest corners, seeking the property he was to take vengeance in.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The city of Carannia was host to some of the wealthiest families on Serreno. In truth, they were likely some of the wealthiest families in the Galaxy, period. Somehow the city managed to remind him somewhat of Coruscant. Of course the two were hardly comparable, considering the entire planet of Coruscant was one massive, never-ending city, while Carannia was but one city upon a planet with much else to offer. Serenno's capital was large to be sure, but insignificant by comparison. The population here did not require the city to be built as tall as the one on Coruscant. Yet to the once primitive hunter from Shili, sceneries like this had a tendency to blend together and seem like they were the same.

It was not his kind of world. Far from it. But it was not the pursuit of comfort, or even wealth, that had brought him here. It was securing the future. He hoped he would not need it, but should the time come where he would need to lay low, this planet would be his hidden sanctuary. Even aside from that, it could serve as a base from which to conduct certain operations in complete privacy. The defiance the natives of this planet was known for would serve his purposes well. Other empires had little influence here. Serreno cared not for matters that did not directly concern them.

It was then a breeze through the Force caught his attention. It was but a whisper, yet he had no doubts that it had been there. He had felt it. Like a weak heartbeat, he followed the pulse to its source. As he got closer it was not hard to identify what it was. He knew why he had felt it. In that moment he also knew there was only one thing that could be done...

Zakir's transport carried him well within the dark underbelly of the prosperous city. For a city flaunting such extreme wealth, it was just as able to showcase the polar opposite. The alleys that the heart of vengeance carried him through was filled with the leftovers. Unaware of his A180 and his fury, a short man approaching Zakir, reaching for his sleeve to gain his attention. "Hey man, hey. You looking for something? You looking to buy? I have everything, man, I have everything" with a twitch he scanned the streets behind Zakir. His concern was unfounded. This place was a lost cause to the local law enforcement.

Further down the path broke into another set of alleys. On the way, a man covered in dark robes sat, facial features hidden beneath a cloak that his exhaustion would not allow him to remove. A frail creature, with nothing but the clothes on his back and a bowl from which to beg money. Brief but loud, angry voices sounded from one of the alleys ahead. A petty robbery was in place. And behind Zakir, only just barely out of sight, a shadow stalked him.

| [member="Zakir Thaun"] |​

 

[Zakir Thaun]

[[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]]

Zakir descended off of his transport cab, mere moments later it scattered off.. None would prefer taking rest in the darkest lanes of the city with an automobile, nevertheless.
The Dathomirian was then met by the irritating sellsman, he flickered down at the short man speechlessly, distaste and bitterness in his features. He immidately motioned for him of his disinterest with a dismissive beckon.

He at last idled still in his place afterwards, his eyes scanning his course of choices, which alley was he was to pick? The sound of banditry echoed from one alley, he stood firm infront of him, scrutinizing the nature of the hisses with cushy glances.. His gaze then swifted to the beggar; he thought nothing of him- he cared not about the state of his health or economy for he had one purpose in mind.. He passed by him with little mind to his existence, furthering down the alley in which the weakling sat. He knew nothing of his current location nor any of the districts which he loitered about in. He tightened his grasp over his holster for he knew it wasn't rare to stumble upon bandits and thugs in these slummest levels.
He continued through it, and let the path take him wherever, he knew he had to- but he knew not where to.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The shadow trailed him still, observing every move. He remained out of range, although only barely and did not make a great effort to remain unseen and hidden. As he followed, he extended his mental tendrils to prove at the mind of [member="Zakir Thaun"], peering a view into his surface thoughts and mental defences, if there were any to be found. From what he could sense this one was untrained, unrefined. For a mentalist it was the prime target. One aware enough to perhaps realise he was under assault, but helpless to resist. But not yet, he did not reveal himself yet, moving within the shadows of both the alleys and the Zabrak's mind.

The salesman was brushed aside, none of his illegal wares and substances purchased on this day. This pleased the stalker, for he had little patience for those torn and ravaged by substance abused. They had a tendency to ruin their potential and bodies, long before they ought to go to waste. Ultimately, it did not matter. All evils of the mind would be purged. It was that or face destruction. The young man continued. He walked with purpose but not direction. Even his purpose was clouded, muddied by anger, vengeance, an urge to lash out but with to target for the frustrations to be unleashed upon. Perhaps one ought to be created.

The shouts from the other alley was slowly abating. The deed had been done, blood had been spilled. The bandits made their escape but not in the direction of Zakir. He was rather alone. In fact, were he to turn around he would find that the salesman was gone. If he had not turned already, he would soon be given cause to. Steps echoed from behind, a slow and casual stroll as a tall man approached. The man was a Togruta, a point made clear by the curved montrals towering above him like horns, and the lekku that moved down on his torso from the front of either shoulder. He resembled a merchant, in his fine-fabric robes. They were predominantly purple, with gold and black adorning the edges. You would think that the beggar would be all over this man, but inside he picked up his bowl in a hurry and proceeded to walk out of the alley, his eyes never lifting higher than his own feet.

"A rather dark place to go for a stroll, don't you think? And dangerous." the stranger broke the silence. There were no one left but the two of them, so there would be no question as to who he was addressing. His tone was calm and did not appear immediately threatening. However there was a veil of intimidation at play behind it all. "I find walks such as this help clear my mind. This place reminds me of who I am. And what I am not. Here resides only scum and the broken. Wasted individuals of the galaxy." His voice held authority. He emanated an aura of power. There was something off about this man. Who truly engaged in conversation with strangers without wanting something from them? The Togruta was far too casual and nonchalant. "Whatever you're looking for, you won't find it here."

 

[Zakir Thaun]

[[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]]

Zakir slowed his pace as he sensed a mild distraction... A feeling of sort stroke him, but he forced himself to dismiss his weak worry. He was conviced for it was another disorientation of a fake nature, and continued his march on down the lane, shallowing his head downwards at the slightest. He did not let himself be troubled with checking on his back either; he was confident his presence is to menace any attempt of banditry and challenge any chance of being lynched upon.

He exhaled sharply on his path as the tones of the robbers from the other alley were cut quiet, and the new rustle of the Togruta individual caught his attention; he ran in thoughts of a such close robbery, and he was tight near his holster, he continued on forth regardless of the absolute presence of the individual behind him. The unrelenting silence was cut by the stranger's inquiry; Zakir was instantly bumped in realization of the individual, directed to no other than himself, he was certain they were the only ones accompanying eachother in the alleyway, thus he firmed his back and shaped his shoulders strong on his sides.

"Does my condition worry you?" He turned his head around by his shoulder, inspecting the man's attire and shape, distinct hints of rush and concern hooded under the Dathomirian's speech. He continued his stroll on, trailed by the suspicion-worthy Togruta. "I care not, I don't belong here; just like yourself." He was secure in his words, and it was clear the merchant succeeded from this place. His words still hid intimidation by the domination of the person's presence. "I doubt you could find anything useful here," He hissed after his statement, "I'm not up for a chatter, anyhow." He hoped for his final say over the Togruta's, rapiding his pace.
He realized something wasn't right in place and prefered to seperate of any possible trouble.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

"No. But it should worry you." How insignificant you are. Yet how powerful you could become. Much like Zakir had ignored his other encounters, he ignored the Togrutan merchant. He wanted nothing from him, nor was he interested in entertaining some random man's idle chatter. So he walked away. Of course, the Togruta had not permitted him to do such. And whether [member="Zakir Thaun"] realised it or not, this situation was falling increasingly under the stranger's control.

"To say this is not where you belong is a simple task. But does your words make it true? This is where you are. Can you escape it? Are you much better than the beggar on the street?" his tone was becoming increasingly inquisitive as it was demanding. He would have the Zabrak's attention, though he cared not to chase after him to get him to stay and listen. Such was not their balance of power.

The Togruta made a distinct wave of his hand, but with his back turned it was unlikely the Zabrak noticed the movement. And why would he take note of it? It was but an insignificant gesture. Yet darkness gathered as the Togruta drew on the Force. Unlike the Jedi who called upon it to aid them, he corrupted the very air around them and bent it to serve his purpose. In front of Zakir now, seemingly stepping out of the dark shadows cast from the alley's walls was a robed person. He was about the same height as Zakir, yet the rest of his features were hidden underneath the shade cast from his black hood. The dark robes themselves similarly kept the rest of his physique hidden as well. The figure stopped at the centre of the street, blocking the path

"That's because you are not looking. You don't understand people. Anything can be made useful given the right circumstances. Even you." It would seem unless he picked a fight with the imposing figure in front of him, he would have to listen to the Togruta's chatter behind him after all. Physically the Togruta stood at a distance away from him, but in truth he was much, much closer. His mind and perception extended beyond the reach of his physical form, and those invisible mental tendrils surrounded Zakir, investigating every emotion and reaction they could come across. They did not need to ask questions to learn what they wanted. Their nature was different, what they desired they simply claimed. Such was the nature of the strong.

"Do you fear death?" The warmth from the Togruta's voice seemed to draw away, something it had in common with their immediate surroundings. Did it just get colder? To make matters worse, the sound of a snap-hiss came abruptly from the cloaked figure. Looking towards him, Zakir would find him to be holding a lightsaber in his grip and its crimson blade ignited. It would appear he was in the presence of more than simple bandits and thugs.

 

[Zakir Thaun]

[[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]]

The Zabrak hummed to himself at the words of the merchant, thoughts of a trouble approching sparked in his mind in addition to the Togrutan's demanding tone. Not only that the person attired clothes of wealth, but he was on presumably his own in the slummest districts of the planet. Zakir feared for himself, and as the merchant ceased to trail Zakir he exhaled in relief, dismissing his worries... yet his easement was very soon diminished by the unexpected apperance of the robed figure, shadowing his features and indentity.

Zakir had instantly halted his march at the reveal of the hooded person which had just lurked from the shades of the street. He lifted his gaze above his feet to fully scrutinize the nature of the figure, helpless to comprehend his identity. As the merchant continued his speech, he shoveled his hand to his holster, affirming a grip on his blaster pistol. The invading substance to the Zabrak's mentality fed at his worries and concerns of the new obstacle, and leaks of fear for death began sipping forth; he listened and comprehended each word of the merchant yet his behavior failed to display it, taking into account of his new sadistic mannerism he refused to express any sensitivity or care for any other essence. His hate also burned in the mix of the feelings, and now his fright and frustration added to the storm.

His eyes then widened at the ignition of the lightsaber, brighting in inferno. He realized he was in deep trouble as countless choices sprinted through his thoughts. He had never seen a lightsaber beforehand, thus he was unfamiliar to the weapon, but he sure knew it was deadly in nature- it burned of hell, and relentlessly noised in it's hunger to battle. He unholstered his blaster pistol, carefully equalling his steps against the wall to his left. His gaze ran in fear between the two, readying at his trigger. "I don't have credits, scatter off!" He raised his pistol before him in preperation to shoot, and he knew he wasn't dealing with generic robbers, he sensed something was sketched wrongly in the entire display.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

"The blaster won't help you. Have you no strength of your own, boy?" He could not put enough emphasis on the last word. He was just that. A child thinking itself grown up, and playing in sandboxes it did not understand. The Togruta drew ever closer, with calm and collected steps. "Like a crutch, you depend on your tools, your weapons. You think they make you dangerous. But strip them away, and what are you?" Powerless. The Togruta reached out with his hand, seemingly gripping at thin air. Then with a powerful surge he yanked at the blaster through the power of the Force, to try to rip it out of the Zabrak's grip and have it enter his own. If successful he would simply let the blaster drop to the ground. He had no need for such crude weapons.

There was fear in him. This was appropriate. [member="Zakir Thaun"] at least had the insight to realise he found himself in a very, very bad situation. Yet there was more than fear, a torrent of emotions swirling up within him. He was not ready to die. He had not yet fulfilled his purpose. And Zakir could not have been more right. The question still remained; would he ever step up to the task and become more than this? Though a slaver, the Togruta was not seeking to enslave the boy today. If he were to come with him he would submit himself willingly. An exchange of freedom for power. Out of the many things the man known to the galaxy as Darth Pyrrhus could offer him, power was certainly one of them.

The hidden, lightsaber-wielding figure stepped closer. With one hand he pointed his blade towards Zakir, raising it to be level with his chest. A gust of wind, seemingly coming out of nowhere pulled his hood aside. It revealed that this one was also a Zabrak. He was of yellow skin, tattooed as many of his kin were, with horns that were more curved than what was normally seen from his kind. He had the same height as Zarik, the same athletic build... It might take an offworlder a few moments to realise, but to Zakir it would be quite evident from the start. The other person was him! Identical in appearance, save for the black robes and the exotic weapon. Zakir, for all intents and purposes, stood face to face with himself.

The merchant, who unbeknownst to Zakir was truly a Sith, was weaving his illusions. A vision presented itself of what he could become. What he could embody. Fear. Strength. Power. None of which the Zakir of today seemed capable of promoting in others. Yet there was potential. Before becoming a Darth, even Pyrrhus had been an insect. Or, Pyrrhus had never been. But his former self, Tanek Santii had certainly been. It was only when he cast his past aside and became Darth Pyrrhus that the Togruta came into his own.

"Do you see?" the Togruta paused, gauging to see the effect and reaction summoned forth in Zakir. "Who are you? Why are you here?" The voice of the merchant, cold and demanding, inquired of Zakir. With his back up against the wall and most likely deprived of his weapon, this time there would be no walking away for him.

 

[Zakir Thaun]

[[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]]

Zakir listened and comprehended the Togruta's inquiries and talk all along their encounter yet he still insisted on replying speechlessly and apathetically to the talk. He still in tried to figure the nature of their collision as it was no generic banditry... The merchant's words stroke intimidation in Zakir, how weak he truly was, regardless of his aggressive motive. It was a time the self-esteemed Dathomirian felt menaced and so belittled, and rightfully so; he was no match to the mentalist and his illusions. His grip shivered faintly at his blaster pistol, and with it being snatched off his hold with a mere motion, he was truly powerless to withstand.

The robed figure began their march forth the weaponless Dathomirian. With every step of his, mumbles of fright sipped from Zakir, he was not yet content and satisfied with his deeds. He had a way to go through and his misfortune led him to this moment. The breeze then revealed the figure's identity, clearly of no explainable sense, and Zakir fell in terror moments after realizing their identity. It was himself cladded with darkened robes and armed with an inferno weapon, an image Zakir could not ever mull of. A man of power and fear it was. Thoughts ran through him, trying to digest it. Was it a droid impersonating him? Or was it a drug he accidentally consumed? His assumptions failed him for he was standing before himself and nothing else could be revised.

To his relief, the merchant broke the silence of utter confusion. He was helpless not to listen, and brief moments later he had also realized. He would be a soldier embodying firmness and power.
He so desired these, but clueless of the regard; he never knew a Sith nor their systematics, the Force and it's uses. There was a price to pay, he was certain, but he could not think of an exchange for power and dread. Eager burned in him of his opportunity, but also fear greatly stroke him, it was no fun business after all, and he was in a position of death or submittion.

"I understand... but clueless." he shivered in repli, his tone weak but passionate.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

[member="Zakir Thaun"]

I understand... but clueless

To this the merchant smiled. He agreed with this assessment. The Zabrak was beginning to understand, but he was clueless. Of what awaited him, he knew nothing. He was so far away from the illusion of himself that had formed before him. One of power, of influence. He possessed neither. Perhaps in time he might prove himself worthy of the image the Togruta had conjured up. Yet, he had asked a question... Two that had remained unanswered. Be it a simple oversight or not, the Zabrak would discover that insolence of any kind would not be tolerated. In the presence of Darth Pyrrhus there was either total obedience, or utter destruction.

Darth Pyrrhus summoned the Force to violently push Zakir off his feet and up against the wall. The pressure would maintain after the fact, in an effort to keep him pinned against it, slightly elevating him from the ground. Though the illusion might make it seem as if it was his mirror-image who did it all, it was the Togruta orchestrating the whole situation from behind the scene. "Who are you? Why are you here?" the Togruta's sharp voice cut through, in a more demanding and less forgiving fashion than before.

In the end, who he was did not matter. The only important thing was who he could become. Pyrrhus wasn't entirely sure why, but something about this one had caught his attention. He would find out whether Zakir had it in him to live up to his potential, or if he would perish in the process. It was not be an easy process, should he be recruited, Pyrrhus would see to that. The Sith demanded sacrifice. The Sith demanded excellence. Nothing less would be accepted.

The tall merchant walked up beside the image of Zakir, in dark robes, who seemingly was holding him up against the wall. Glancing between the two, the Togruta remarked: "What would you do, had you such power? What would you give up to obtain it?"

 

[Zakir Thaun]

[[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]]

Tugged by the force up against the wall, the Zabrak was not able to process the hasty action, nor it's source. Giveniven he was clueless of the Force, and again, everything else. He thought he was clumsy not to act before speaking, but after realizing there was nothing gripping his collar to lift him up, nothing but the thick air that surrounded them, he connected the dots and thought he realized, but he realized very little of the true nature of the Force, and alot was there to explore. Regardless, he fealt threatened, weakend and unable to react, leaving him to sway in his place helplessly, pinned to the wall.

The merchant then reinquired, toned critically and demandively. Zakir did not know how to answer... He served no purpose, and he was no one. It was the truth and he could not escape it, that fact burned from the inside. And it angered him, like an irritating leech that whispered in his ear You are nothing, you are no one. He wanted to smack that leech and prove him the truth was not there, that he could bring misery and repay it, but it was true, and he couldn't repay; helpless to react, chained against his will. He wanted to prove and truly embody that delusion before him and remove his shaming, but failing to reply and speak out. His sensation was there, it couldn't be dismissed. As if his aura flamed that he wanted to show he was indeed better than himself.

"I will give you as you desire." he echoed, tied to the wall. He knew he was in no position to dismiss or displease the Togruta. He submitted himself for lust and fear. "Name it... and I will give it to you." It seemed as if he was begging for it, he so desired it, to prove he was not what he displayed, that he could be what the mirror of himself showed. It was no attempt to bribe the merchant, it was true and he meant it; he would give anything to prove he wasn't a weakling and he could be stronger.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

[member="Zakir Thaun"] was flung up against the wall, fully at the mercy of the Togruta. It was to be expected. He was weak. Untrained and even unaware of the ways of the Force. However that could all change if he was willing to make the sacrifices. It would be no easy journey, nor a decision to be made lightly. Just as he had suffered, Pyrrhus would ensure that any who followed in his footsteps would suffer. Sacrifice was a necessity. It was through the ashes of ones former self that one could emerge a Sith. A Sith who had never been broken, never experienced pain on the greatest scale knew nothing of their Code, and was Sith only in name. There were no breaks on the Dark Side train. Forever they would push themselves to their limits. Success or death.

Zakir offered the merchant few words. I will give you as you desire. Name it... And I will give it to you. The words were few and in their entirety lacking. However Pyrrhus was a gifted mentalist, and his mental tentacles had been probing at the edges of the Zabrak's skull from the very beginning of their encounter. They latched onto his surface thoughts, and from those gained access to deeper emotions and desires. What Zakir did not speak his mind revealed. And this was where the Togruta Lord found the true gems. He was no one. This was an undeniable truth that he was wise not to ignore. It was a painful realisation. The Zabrak's anger burned hot. There was a deep desire to prove himself, to rise above this wretched shell which could do nothing to stand against the Togruta and his like. He desperately desired to prove himself. Time would give him the opportunity.

"You are weak." the Togruta spoke, cold and dismissively. "You are nothing." he followed up by confirming what the patterns of his mind were suggesting. "What do you have to offer me? What makes you worth my time?" the powerful being further inquired. The answers would come soon. The mirror image of himself vanished into colliding waves of dark smoke. Over the course of a few seconds, that vanished too. All that was left was the Togruta and the Zabrak, left standing in the alley. The grip holding Zakir up was released, allowing him to fall to his feet or fully to the ground.

"Zakir Thaun" he spoke his name, revealing that this information was not hidden to him. Perhaps Zakir would think he had done research on him, and that their meeting was not coincidental. Their meeting was not coincidental, but the will of the Force. However, in time, he would come to realise that Pyrrhus had delved within his mind and extracted the information for himself. "I am power." names and titles aside, in the end, this was what the Togruta could be to him. A well from which to drink from, to enrich his own being. "This power can be yours, if your body is capable of possessing it and your mind dedicated to acquiring it. The choice is yours. My business on this planet is concluded. You either follow me as I leave it behind or you do not. Know that if you do, your life as you know it is over. Your absolute and unconditional loyalty will be expected. Betrayal met with death. You will know pain you never before could imagine, but through it you will obtain power unheard of. Through passion, I gain strength" he recited the Sith Code. The time for that would come later, but it felt appropriate to begin hammering it in already now.

"I too was once like you. Weak. An insect compared to the truly influential beings of the galaxy. A primitive beast. The Dark Side of the Force refined my abilities, cultivated my mind. Now look at me. Reality bends to serve my will. I am Darth Pyrrhus, a Sith Lord. If this is what you desire, you will call me master."

 

[Zakir Thaun]

[[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]]

The Zabrak was troubled. Everything he deeply thought of and feared was leaked out, and not by himself. Just another witnessed fact to prove his irrelevance in this state, and further motivate him to desire proving his hidden and gifted potential. The embodiment of strength vanished into air with a tiny tell of the Togruta's will. It cornered in Zakir's eyes before he himself was casted down to the surface, inflicting pain of self-belittlement. He crawled back to his feet, met with his own name called out, a name he dared not tell anyone in a long while. And thoughts of a planned encounter did begin sipping through. The Togruta voiced forth, and a recruitment of both soul and body was offered.

A submittion of life in exchange for power. As if he was willing to chain himself to absolute servitude and be repaid accordingly. He knew he was somewhat gifted, it came to be witnessed through some situtations in his life, and he had the met the criteria to actualize his hidden potential, all that was needed is a greenlight, acceptance of the one-way bargain. He was certain such proposition was a singular in an entire lifespan, surely one that not all were to witness in life, and it granted order, excellence and strength. Chained to loyalty, excellence and a neverending hunt for improving and empowering oneself through a course of devistating practices in exchange for servitude and unbreakable loyalty was a proposition to be feared of, but with a burning ambition to prove excellency Zakir was positive in this regard.

Through passion, I gain strength.
A phrase Zakir would only dare to forget, it encouraged him to take on this course of apprenticeship. He was passionate, undoubtedly. Everyone had to start somewhere, he was given an example by Darth Pyrrhus's former self, and with the adoption of the Dark Side of the Force he was granted this unchallenged power. Precisely the desire of this one uncertain Zabrak, to overpower his former self and evolve to strength. Even though he knew little of the Force, nor it's Dark Side, he had assumed and calculated Darth Pyrrhus's unnatural casts and skillful maneuvers and concluded that the Dark Side of the Force was the one to a last, finally satisfy his neverending hunger for dread.
"My lord," he bent his knee, faced down in submition, "To strive for excellence and unquestionable loyalty in your name I swear.." he gulped, unbothered to rethink this servility twice, "And uphold my name as your apprentice." He at last made his choice, and picked to serve the Sith Lord before him, considerable of the consequences in his path.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

[member="Zakir Thaun"]'s world was about to be turned upside down, and all thanks to the chance encounter with a certain Togrtua. Of course, whether such a thing as luck and chance existed or if it was all the will of the Force was a matter of debate. Ultimately it did not matter. All that mattered was that a chance had appeared in front of the young Zabrak, and he had seized it. Whether it was something he would come to regret in the future, whether it was something that would lead to a premature death, he would always have the fact that when given the option of taking action versus hesitating and clinging to the safety of what was already known, Zakir had became a man of action. It was his first step in becoming a Sith. For whatever reason, justified or not, Pyrrhus felt optimistic.

My lord, he said as he bent the knee. It was an act found so hard by many others. Demeaning, perhaps, a wound to the pride, but through it he opened the door to so much more. It was a sacrifice, albeit perhaps a small one in comparison to what was to come. "Then rise as my apprentice." and the accord was struck. From here they would walk a path together; or rather Pyrrhus would walk and Zakir would either keep up or fall behind.

"What do you know of the Sith? The Jedi? The Force?" Pyrrhus asked in a neutral tone of voice as he observed the Zabrak rise to his feet. It was time to start gauging what his apprentice knew and what he did not. Certainly whatever knowledge he possessed was not given from the perspective of a Sith, but more than likely corrupted by the perspective of someone who viewed them through lenses of prejudice. Pyrrhus would seek to know every corner of the soul of the being that was Zakir. He deemed it a necessity to proceed with his training.

"Who were you before you came here? What brought you here? What do you know of conflict?"

The questions came as Pyrrhus turned and gestured for Zakir to follow. They would move away from the alley, through the streets and towards the hangar where Pyrrhus' ship would await them. Even in public their conversation would remain a thing of privacy. Few people seemed to take note of the pair. Did they even know they were there? Whether Zakir could feel it or not, Pyrrhus was encircling them with a shadow of uneasiness. Through Sith Magic he ensured that they would be able to proceed uninterrupted, the individuals in their path taking no note of them but rather have their minds occupied with inexplicable feelings of confusion and discomfort.

 

[Zakir Thaun]

[[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]]

The Dathomirian Zabrak had chosen to take on the path of a Sith apprentice, a course that will not bring ease or relievement to him anytime soon, if at all, and rather force devastating training and neverending anticipations for excellence. A life-changing task that he had just dared to swear upon himself, for if he would once dare to stray off of this course of apprenticeship he will be met with death. He was aware of the consequences, but his desires overwhelmed him and he had swore a fealty. The Dark Side of the Force had proved him to be a strong substance to utilise, he witnessed it's unnatural capabilities with this short-prior experience with of Togruta; with a mere tell of a finger he spawned illusions, it infiltrated his very thoughts and lifted him to the air. A Force surely worth to study and more so exalt.

Zakir was unfamiliar to the Sith hierarchy, but the title of Sith Lord was of obvious significance, one that had twisted the Force for his desires was most certainly a being worthy of respect, and the Zabrak was merely indicated such deserved respect. He took a moment to remain bent before rising to his feet at the order of the Dark Lord. He swore to dedicate his efforts to satisfy the expectations set before him as a Sith apprentice, he and was aware of the many challenges awaiting him, and forced him to strive beyond his limits.

"The Sith and the Jedi waged war for millennias, the Sith represented order while the Jedi shielded the weak." He did not want to describe the Sith as the dreadful beings they were imaged for, nor the Jedi for the hopeful beliefs they worshipped, merely due to the fact he knew very little of it, nevertheless, only two different point of views were the old tales he was once told, cutting his words short. He had no current opinion with his lack of knowledge, but he had just laid allegiance to the Sith and he had to uphold it. He trailed Darth Pyrrhus's lead through the alley, taking several moments to caluclate his answers. He hadn't even bothered to pay attention to their surroundings, thanks to the aura spell inflicting disturbance for those in their way.

"Dathomir was my homeworld, and my family crumbled to ashes in it years ago.. I left Dathomir and arrived here, at Serreno, to establish something greater and prove better over their wrongs." He emitted a faint exhale as he poured out the little detail he knew of himself. There was not much to tell, he seeked purpose and fate offered him a purpose, a most exalted one. "Of conflict.. I never attended wars, I never fought a war for a purpose, but I shall." He was inexperienced, but he was well motived to drive into one, both for himself and the greater cause, to achieve his goals and further aid the conflict of the Force. They proceeded to the shuttle, and Zakir was left short of words- there was nothing to more to add, he was fresh new to the real challenges of the world, and he was focused on a sole purpose; to strive for power and greatness in the years to come, praise and uphold the name of the Sith and their ultimate goal.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Darth Pyrrhus' reaction was a mix of a nod and a sideways head-tilt. It was far from the big picture, but this was to be expected. Perhaps [member="Zakir Thaun"] spoke the words he thought his master would want to hear, though what Pyrrhus sensed was not deception. "To some, that's true. Others see the Sith as bringers of chaos and the Jedi guardians of peace. But peace is a lie." there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Another aspect of the Sith Code was snuck in, and the first line of their code was an important one. "It is an illusion that breeds nothing but weakness and stagnation. Empires have begin to fall when they drew up their borders and said 'this is as far as we dare go'. Great warriors grow weak, living off their reputation and past glories. Never be satisfied. Never feel content. Give your life to conflict and it will sharpen you, both mind and body. The further back you have to reach to retell tales of your exploits, the less relevant you are in the present. There is always something you can do in the now. Always stay sharp, my apprentice. Comfort is something we forsake as Sith." how quickly the Togruta had turned on lecture-mode. It was the clean slate that was Zakir that drew him in. A blank slate, who could be moulded by his first impressions and insights of the Sith. Pyrrhus would see to it that he was properly educated.

The pair would eventually reach the hangar. There were two guards standing on either side of the ramp, both holding a shield and electrostaff, and wearing caped, ceremonial armours. One of the guards was talking to a Nautolan woman, but as soon as he noticed Pyrrhus he straightened out and stood at attention, playing it off as if he had never spoken with her in the first place. The woman understood, despite her rolling her eyes at the scene, and walked into the transport ship. "That" Pyrrhus gestured with a nod of the head towards the Nautolan as they walked towards the ship "...is our pilot." Pyrrhus had come from a primitive planet. He had never learned the art of flying there, nor had he shown any interest in picking it up since. He always had someone do the flying for him. "And this..." he stopped at the start of the ramp, his head turning to let a deep glare dig itself into the soldier who had been conversing with the Nautolan. He remained at attention, but underneath that helmet of his, pearls of sweat were forming. "Is the Epirus Guard. Two of them, at any rate. They are my personal bodyguard" though in fairness, their use was mostly ceremonial. Their impact was felt, seen, and it was through their presence they exacted their power, not through protecting the Sith Lord.

With the introductions in place the duo would walk into the ship, which would shortly after take off and push into the planet's atmosphere and move towards space. Undoubtedly, Zakir had not expected to be leaving so soon, and certainly not in the company of a Sith Lord. "You will fight in wars, there's no doubt of that. A new war is brewing as we speak. I expect to be leading it from the frontlines." an act that no doubt would bring Zakir close to those lines himself. His abilities would be tested early in his time as Sith Apprentice to Darth Pyrrhus. "But not all conflict take place on a battlefield. There's more to it than war. Intrigue, rivalries on both sides, a conflict between who you are and who you could be. You must be prepared to face them all." What good was being able to wield a great sword, a great army, if you left yourself open to daggers in the back? "Your family, you say, crumbled to ashes. All of them?" Pyrrhus inquired. Was Zakir the last survivor of a dynasty deposed?

 

[Zakir Thaun]

Peace is a lie. There is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. The Zabrak began realizing this so prestigious code he had encountered several times, and will continue encountering. It must be obeyed, thus it was a must to remember. [member="Darth Pyrrhus"]' words were elaborative of the code. In a conflict the weak will have to strive for power and overcome the threats, else they will not survive. In a conflict only the strongest remain, only those who fought and won deserve to be left alive with their unchallenged status, or at least such had Zakir concluded. Battle kept everything in place, in order, functioning and always ready for the next, greater challenge. This way Zakir assumed righteous, it was also the way of nature. Hunt or be hunted.

He knew he will have to exhaust all his physical and mental capabilities and always challenge himself, when he would lose a conflict he hoped to overcome the obstacle, and always grow stronger to achieve his neverending task... unless he will meet death. Success or death, he recalled in his mind. They made it to the port, Zakir had sticked close to the Dark Lord in their trail. A Dark Lord, such prestigious guards were expected. Equipped professionaly from head to toe, the armaments only indicated the skill and training the guard is going through to utilise these weapons. A guard preventing danger just by their presence. The Dathomirian bobbed his head at the Nautolan before continuing to the vessel.

A new war is on the edge of igniting, and participating in it's front eagered Zakir. He had never tasted conflict, but he was willing to, ready? Perhaps, he himself did not know, but he had to bring out the best of his skills and prove himself worthy to the ways of the Sith and spark the beginning of his future life. In regard of Zakir's family, his brothers turned against eachother, and bloodshed was inevitable back then. He did not pick a side, it was a broken family in which he remained still and neutral. He saw his entire family massacring itself, and he was far from certain if any were still alive, he did slip away as soon as the fight ceased, and never bothered to attempt contact with his house. "I am uncertain, never bothered to contact anyone." Nothing motivated him, he ran to restart and cared very little for his past.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

"Good" the Dark Lord uttered with a thoughtful nod. No loose ends. Although it removed the opportunity for sacrifice and a show of loyalty to the Sith, it meant his focus and ambition was focused solely on himself. He did not do it to honour an ancient name or bring glory to his house. Unless Pyrrhus was mistaken in this assumption, in which case [member="Zakir Thaun"] would be set straight.

The transport ship took them higher and higher until finally they came within view of a larger. It was not the flagship of Darth Pyrrhus. This was mainly to avoid drawing too much attention to his own travels. That being said, the Reformation-class Dreadnought was a more than capable command vessel, and served his needs when not engaging in greater fleet operation.

"This is the beginning of a new life for you. The call of the Sith stands above all else; family, love, even your selfish desires for pleasures and comfort. Through me you will learn what it means to be strong. The weak will always be victims, such is the nature of life. The weak will always suffer at the hands of the strong. Only the strong survive, because only the strong deserve to do so." his dark eyes examined his recently acquired apprentice to see if the words were taken in, and more importantly; to see if they were understood. "The Dark Side is like a fierce storm of emotion that annihilates anything in its path. It lays waste to the weak and unworthy, and it will devour those who lack the power to control it. But to those strong enough, the Dark Side is a pathway to unfathomable power. Only those with the power to control the Dark Side can ever truly be free. I will teach you of our ways, unlock your true potential, and together we shall shape the galaxy in our image. As we have done in the past, the Sith shall once more rise to rule the galaxy. Remember my following words, for this is the Sith Code. Repeat it, meditate on it, understand it. It is your guide to becoming a proper Sith"

​

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion​

Through passion, I gain strength​

Through strength, I gain power​

Through power, I gain victory​

Through victory, my chains are broken​

The Force shall set me free" ​

​

After his lecture on the nature of the Sith as he saw it, their transport would dock with the Dreadnought. As soon as they had been confirmed to be aboard its engines would roar into life and shortly thereafter carry them off into the depths of hyperspace.