Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Evolution

The Cataphract made its way through the cold depths of space. It travelled alone and without an escort through hyperspace. Its destination was known only to Darth Pyrrhus himself and the necessary crew members. It was not a top secret operation, although as usual Pyrrhus preferred to keep things on a need to know basis. The less complications the better. [member="Zakir Thaun"] did not yet need to know. Everything revolved around him, however, and so he would learn of it in due time.

Before that there were some things Pyrrhus wished to go over. It was not long since he had picked up the Zabrak on Serreno. Save from the little expedition on Elom he had little experience under his belt. Prior to becoming the Lord of Ruin's apprentice he seemed to have little understanding of the Sith or the Force. It became Pyrrhus' role then to create a solid foundation. They had covered the basics of swordsmanship and Sith philosophy. But what did he know of the Force?

With this in mind, the Togruta Lord had summoned Zakir to what had effectively been reworked into a training chamber. He awaited him within, draped in his new Sith robes, dubbed 'Virsune robes' from its meaning in Sith - pride. The robes were touched by the Dark Side, and so sometimes seemed to have a nature of their own. If anything, they were proud and eagerly seeking to lure in and demoralise whomever it came across. It created an oppressing aura, the air surrounding it weighing heavy on the room.

But on his path, before Zakir could reach his master's location, another was waiting. Kregan Fash, a Zabrak like Zakir and Pyrrhus' long time apprentice and right hand. It would appear as if they crossed paths on coincidence, but it was far from it. Someone new was being included into the Togruta's entourage. Kregan knew they would be introduced at some point. He would make sure it happened on his terms.

Around the corner of a hallway, their paths was set to cross. Kregan had discarded his Sith robes and was in his faded yellow doublet ontop of black pants. The only visible weapon on him was the hilt of a lightsaber clipped to his belt.
 
It was always refreshing to board a vessel of these dynamics. In his past, he had only embarked a transport that big in his trek to Serreno. It indicated the Dark Lord's wealth and status, attributes quite far from both former and current Zakir. Suddenly a stronger feeling of ambition stroke him. He will need to grow more powerful, in all aspects of power. And power isn't a one way trade, it's an exchange-- A weakness for a strength with a cost of utter discipline, constant training and endlessly challenging oneself to rework on their drawbacks. And that is Zakir's conduct.

Now it was time to continue actualizing and working his path for power, he was summoned for training, he supposed. Even though he was undoubtedly clueless in the location of the training room, he managed to track along the way to it. He bore no armaments, not because he felt extremely safe in that vessel, but rather because he had none, he was yet to have any that would serve as his personal weapon. But it was his main task at the time, to be announced a proper Sith apprentice and to carry a lightsaber by his side.

He took immediate notice of the other Zabrak that now stood before him. With that immediate halt came an immediate memory of his first encounter with [member="Darth Pyrrhus"]. The image of his very self adoring these Sith robes, a lightsaber sparking blood-red in his arm and that deathly gaze. In mere moments he discarded the possibility. The Zabrak before him was a lot different than himself. He was red rather than yellow, and unequal in physical appearance. This gave Zakir a small relief-- he already thought that his mind was infiltrated again, his less-adequate barricades crumbled and again vulnerable to mentalist infiltration, but above all that he failed to maintain that prior incursion in Ziost and thus failed himseslf.

Luckily, the Zabrak before him seemed as real as the vessel they were in. But... Who is he? The lightsaber from his belt assured one thing-- Sith, or Jedi. After a few miliseconds, he was certain Kregan was a Sith. The yellowish eyes gave out his affiliation. An apprentice to the Dark Lord, he judged by the doublet, or just another Sith that somewhat preferred not to attire fancier clothes to mark his authority. He cut his thoughts with a slightly trenched frown, but nothing that he concluded was reliable at all. The last thing he would want to do in the presence of Sith is to rely on thoughts. He needed to really understand people, like the Dark Lord once told him in that alleyway in Carrania; You don't understand people, and his sole purpose is to excel his drawbacks- the smallest uninfluential disadvantage could be turned decisive in a certain occasion, he would not let that happen.

He was as cautious as he could be. That Zabrak raised a red light that can not be disregarded, relevant for this instant moment or for his future as an apprentice. It could very likely mean competition, he had to learn him now if he indeed happened to be the Dark Lord's apprentice. His back was firm and shoulders tight in place, and was not the first to shot a word-- he was still clueless on whether or not should they even talk- after all, all he knew they crossed paths by accident.
 
Finally their paths crossed. Kregan walked around the corner. He had nearly hoped that [member="Zakir Thaun"] would literally bump into him and give him cause to give him a little disciplinary beating. But they moved clear of each other. Kregan continued walking, until they were side-by-side, until he was past. Then he stopped. Turned.

"You" he said coldly. There was little question who he was addressing here. Who was left but the other Zabrak? Both an apprentice of sorts to Darth Pyrrhus. Both Zabrak. But Kregan would have him understand that this did not make them equal. This did not make them friends. It didn't even make them natural allies. They could be, but only if Zakir bowed.

"Where do you think you're going?" he continued in a superior tone, congruent with his whole body language that seemed to suggest that it was in fact he who was captain of this ship. "Is this how you greet your betters?" His face remained harsh and cold, but on the inside Kregan was almost bubbling with glee. He was happy with that one. It would be amusing to see how the new recruit responded to that. He would judge his character.
 
It mildly pleased Zakir that the other Zabrak rotated to face him. He was curious on who he was, and currently-- nothing could elaborate it better than a chatter, even not a very mannered one, as if he expected this Zabrak to inherent some trait of mannerism that he found in [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] if he happened to be his apprentice. But it should suffice. He turned his attention to Kregan as he spoke. You. Just straight-out plain, but it wasn't forthright, not enough to determine his current opinion on that rookie that adopted the ways of the Dark Side.

Now he continued, and that both gave Zakir a mixed feeling in his stomach; Kregan rightfully talked in authority over that new Zabrak, and authority was one of Zakir's ambitions-- but far away from admiring this Sith knight. He secondly felt belittled, and inside he did not take that very nicely. It angered him, it sparked this urge to knock a fist into the Zabrak and conclude their encounter. But that was out of the question-- it was inappropriate for the time. Thirdly, a distinct sense of humor also echoed inside him. That Zabrak was outright proud, so proud he demanded for recognition. That, a trait Zakir failed to find inside himself but it was sure one of his most remarkable traits, he was as selfish as he was ambitious to show off what he had achieved as a Sith, power, wealth, strength. All that in his longterm mind to-do-list.

He made sure to cover all of his feelings under a faint grin, a grin that indicated nothing at all, not that he was very happy with that attitude of the Zabrak nor giving out the sense of giggling that sparked in his mind.
"Oh--, oh well." he hinted innocence in his tone, he intended for it to appear on purpose, as it was, intended-- as some way to passively moke him. "I don't believe we were introduced." he much more passively replied, like he felt breezy and chilly at that time- but it was far from that. He was also trying to test the Zabrak, but under all his features he was damn cautious. After all, he was not the only carrying a lightsaber in his belt.
"Zakir, a newcomer I suppose." he still gave off these hints of ease and simplicity. He refrained from even twitching a hand forth, nor unfirming his back for a bow-- he remained solid in his stance.
 
The way [member="Zakir Thaun"] began to feel about Kregan as he addressed him as if a superior officer to a subordinate was a common response. It was something of a hobby for Kregan to manage to provoke and conjure up deep feelings of resentment in those he dealt with. It had been one of his primary tactics back at the Sith Academy of Glee Anselm. There he had forced his rivals to challenge him before they were ready, simply because they could not wait to smash his head against the wall. But they acted too soon, a slave to their rage before learning to master it. And so Kregan was here, they were not.

Zakir's response gave Kregan no satisfaction. No visible signs of him being provoked or flustered were spotted. Kregan bought into the way Zakir carried himself. He played the older Zabrak rather well, in fact, not responding directly to his questions and not giving him much to work with to assert his own authority over this newcomer. "I am Kregan. Kregan Fash. You should take note of that" this one did not lack one bit in the sense of self importance department. He had taken a step closer to Zakir, although not uncomfortably so. "I am not a newcomer. A Sith Knight in the service of Darth Pyrrhus. I am his right hand" - a claim Kregan was very careful to make when Pyrrhus was not around to dispute it. That could get awkward.

"Well?" Kregan said with yellow-hued eyes examining the other Zabrak. His species did not matte that much, although subconsciously it perhaps made Kregan more positively inclined towards Zakir. Someone for him to have fall in line, a future lackey perhaps, he thought to himself. Yet regardless of that, it did not change his need to assert himself now. More than verbal acknowledgement, he wanted Zakir to feel it. "Aren't you going to bow?" he asked if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Make it deep, newcomer." at this point not even Kregan managed to hide a sinister smirk that screamed the attitude of 'I am better than you'. "Or must I make you kneel?" actually, there more he thought on it, the more he liked the sound of kneeling...

OOC Note: Gonna be gone on a trip until the 11th, so won't be able to post again until Tuesday!
 

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