Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Return of the Firstborn

Malachor V, Abyss Academy

The number of days the headmaster spend sleeping was already fairly low, but a day were he was unable to find sleep when he wanted to was something entirely different. He had reach a level of mastery over his body and mind that marked him as a lord of the sith, and when something stood between him and his control over himself only one power could be responsible. The force, the energy field he drew his power and wisdom from had called him this night, haunting him with fragmented visions and glimpses of something. His ability to see the future was lacking greatly compared to many lords or jedi masters, as the past always had been his realm to explore. If a shadow in his future was strong enough to appear in his inner eye, than something great awaited him.

With the visions he began to feel a presence, one he hadn't felt in a long time. It seemed fairly unlikely that he could trust his feeling this time, the man the presence belonged to should be nothing but a faded memory by now. If not, than only pain awaited him, only punishment. Abyss wasn't the sith he had been when he had guided the path of [member="Phar'ra"], he was stronger now, smarter, wiser, a lord in any way. The kaleesh on the other hand was nothing to him, besides a disappointment. He had been replaced by someone who wouldn't disappear from his training, something who would prove worthy of his time.

Shrouded in the same old, black robe he had worn when he meet the kaleesh for the first time, the same mask on his face and the same cybernetic leg attached to the rest of his right leg, he rested in the entrance hall of the academy, his eyes closed and his legs crossed to mediate. He could feel how his former apprentice came closer, it wouldn't be long before he would reach the academy. Not enough time to make a decision about the mans future. He had lost the right to be his apprentice, but if he still had the inner fire, the strength and passion he had possessed before he left, then it would be a waste to simply take his life. Maybe he would find a place for him, but he had to prove himself, in a painful and violent way, one that Abyss wasn't entirely sure about yet. Only that he had to suffer for wasting his time.
 
Prison. Or something like it. Phar'ra had been missing some time now, and he knew what awaited him as he stepped into the temple his Master had made. If it wasn't for those damned bounty hunters. Wasn't for that damned weakness of pride, he never would have left. Prison had taken him in, another gladiator ring at that, and forced him to fight for his freedom. Across his bone mask a line had been left, a permanent reminder of what his ego had cost him.

He lost his right eye.

With his left eye he glanced around the entrance, looking for where he could feel [member="Darth Abyss"] . It wasn't hard. Abyss had grown in ways the Kaleesh had not expected, and fear began to take root in the mans mind. As he stepped into the room he immediately dropped to a knee, keeping his gaze low. He did not speak, for it wasn't his place to. Punishment was all he expected now.
 
"You are still alive. What a ... disappointment."

Abyss didn't made an effort to open his eyes or move at all as his former apprentice entered the halls of his academy. He didn't needed his eyes to see, to feel the fear that began to take hold inside the kaleeshs head, fueled by the amount of power the sith lord had gained since their last meeting. Until now he had been uncertain if it truly could be his former apprentice that he saw in his vision, but now that he could be sure he felt a mix of surprise, anger and excitement that this shadow of his past had returned under his influence.

"I assume you came here to return to your place by my side."

Slowly he rose from the ground, walking towards the man on the ground without making any sound in the process. His presence was like a fog of darkness, clouding the kaleeshs mind, his movement and appearance giving him a almost otherworldly, ghostlike aura. The boney fingers of his right hand extended, touching the mask of the man before him, summoning glimpses of the past, to see what had happened to him. After watching the echoes of what seemed like a prison, hunted and put there by those wo seeked to make money out of him. It was fascinating, but it was no excuse. If he had been stronger he would've returned far sooner.

"A true sith would have stood by my side long ago. You are nothing to me, [member="Phar'ra"], if it were not for the time I wasted you would be completely forgotten."

His words addressed two things. The greatest fear he once ripped out of the mans mind, and the fact that he used his name, not the term apprentice, to symbolize that his chance had been passed up.

"But I am not one to throw away an asset like you are one. You will serve my will, not as a sith, but as a tool, one I will discard as soon as you disappoint me again. There will be no glory in the tasks ahead of you, and your name will be forgotten by those you fight. You will be nothing. That is your punishment."
 
"Mah apologies." It was all the Kaleesh could say as he kept his vision on the ground. What else could he do? He had failed [member="Darth Abyss"] , as such the most he could do was accept the punishment before him. Though, he would take this, anything, to continue to learn. To get more power. Even if he had to scrape the bottom of a barrel, he would learn. Let him be this Shadow Hand, serving in darkness. He will wear it like a cloak until he could tear it off and show the galaxy who exactly he was.

But for now, he would grovel. Eat dirt. He would be the bottom feeder.
 
"Apologies? What a pitiful creature you are, beginning for my forgiveness. I once saw power in you, and now look at you."

Normally a fit of lightning would have followed his insults, but the kaleesh wasn't even worth that anymore. Punishment was reserved for his real apprentice, it was a tool to forge a being, a right [member="Phar'ra"] had lost when he left. Yet he had no doubt that the mans ambition was the bright fire it had been before. Maybe he would use this opportunity to rise above what he was now, or maybe he would die like any other, lost and forgotten as all inflicted by weakness.

"Now Phar'ra, tell me what you had to go through. Nothing you say will change what you are ... but maybe it will change my judgement."

Nothing could redeem the mistake of this man, but depending on his story Abyss would decide how much trust he would put in his new tool. For his sake it would be better if his reasons were better than just being caught by a hunter, or beaten by a superior enemy.
 
((Apologies for the delay. I couldn't think of something to type.))

There was a simple nod to [member="Darth Abyss"] , and the new tool would tell his story. He would leave out no detail in the events that lead to this moment, but also making sure not to bore or annoy his once master. The story was rather simple. He was lured into a trap, one that the Kaleesh had expected, against some of his own people. They had come to end his life in the name of their new god king.

Phar'ra had won.

With the training of Abyss and his new lightsaber the Acolyte slaughtered the assassins, but not without harm to himself. As the last of them fell, he was bloodied and bruised. His right arm broken, his left with a line of blood that resulted in a scar to this day. Yet even though he had won, he was captured. A man in the darkness poisoned his body and mind, forcing him into unconsciousness while he was at his weakest.

He had awoken, as stated before, in an arena. There he fought day in and out against a myriad of foes. Each kill had made him stronger. Each brush with death honed the sword that was his mind. Each enemy who's mind was broken only served to give him another step forward to his freedom. Finally, just this same day, the one eyed Kaleesh saw the man who had brought him to this pit.

Phar'ra broke his mind and took his keys, freeing himself with ease. He had been plotting for the months he had been locked away, ever waiting for this moment. Once it was his, he left the godforsaken pit to find Abyss.

"And dat would be when ah came ta find ya."
 
Abyss listened closely to the words of his former apprentice. The fact that the kaleesh had been tricked and took so long to return to him was a clear sign of weakness, but that weakness wasn't entirely his fault. After all Abyss had been the one to teach the alien in the ways of the sith, so his failure was to parts his own. As he had said before it didn't changed anything at the position of [member="Phar'ra"], the place of apprentice had been passed on to another, but at least he saw enough potential left to make the kaleesh less replaceable. Not that he would inform the man about it, it was important that he would continue his training in constant fear of death and expendability.

"Rise, my shadow hand."

Darth Abyss still stood in front of his newly named shadow hand, waiting for the man to rise. They had already wasted enough times with words, now it was time to see if former apprentice had learned and grown in the time in the arena.

"Defend yourself."

His left pushed forward, sending a simple telekinetic pulse at the kaleesh, not to really hurt him, but to bring a bit of distance between the two. At the same time his right moved at his belt, grabbing the cold metal of his lightsaber hilt, but he kept the weapon deactivated for now. He had no doubt that he could crush the kaleesh easily as his power had grown immensely since their last meeting. But before he would reveal the full extend of his ascension, he would test the kaleesh, maybe even teach him a thing or two.
 
Slowly Phar'ra stood up, offering the simplest of nods to [member="Darth Abyss"] as he did so. Though, his mind instantly steeled over as the words of defending escaped his master's lips. A hand shot down to grasp the hilt of his saber just as the blast sent him from his feet. He righted himself mid flight to land standing once again, his own saber snapping to life just as he once again reached solid ground.

His eyes narrowed as his one good eye focused in on he who would be his opponent, and he could only try to formulate a path to survive.
 
Abyss crimson blade sprang to live in his right, the second [member="Phar'ra"] turned own his weapon. The fights in the arena couldn't prepare the kaleesh for the strength of a fully realized sith lord, but for the start he would hold back a bit. He wanted to evaluate his shadow hands skills to see if the man had lost his edge in his days of fighting meaningless battles against his own kind.

The battle was initialised by a set of quick strikes, a staccato of swings. First one from the right, which turned out to be ruse, as the movement stopped midair, instead twisting his wrist to change it into a stab forward, followed by a upwards movement to the left, with the intention to cutting the mans chest open.

It was to the kaleeshs luck that the art of swordplay wasn't exactly Abyss strong point compared to the many other talents needed to survive as a sith. But he remembered his former apprentice as a skilled swordsman so he would at least give him the opportunity to shine with his strengths before he would utterly crush him and his ego.
 
The one eye honed in, watching [member="Darth Abyss"] as he closed the distance. His time in the ring hadn't weakened his combat skills. In fact, it did the opposite, honing both his mind and his blades edge. As the strike came, his body dodged underneath, and as the direction changed, his form twisted to the left, narrowing the target that was his body. His saber came around to catch the Master's red blade, and with a tilt of his wrist he would change the blades direction so it narrowly avoided the bone mask of the Kaleesh.

Just as he did, his free hand came up to unleash a blast of the Force, aiming to once more create a distance between the two. It was no where as strong as the Lord, but it would serve as his own ruse for once Abyss's blade cleared it's lethal arc his own would come back around after the blast in a quick riposte aiming for the Mindeaters chest.
 
It was good to see that [member="Phar'ra"] didn't had lost his talent with the blade, a skill in which the kaleesh would best his master in, at a point of time not so far away. He always had been excellent with a saber, and Abyss always had lacked the right finesse to truly master his weapon, instead rather using his mind and the force to defeat his enemies.

The blast in the force pushed him a step back, bur it could not break his balance nor his focus. When the blade of the kaleesh came towards him, Abyss rotated his body around his left foot, so that the stab ended up in the air in front of his chest. Against a less experienced opponent the riposte would've been the killing blow, but Abyss had battled against true master of the blade like Darth Ferox or the jedi master he opposed on yutan, and still came out alive in the end.

In a heartbeat his left hand pushed forward, reaching for the extended bladearm of his shadow hand, while at the same time summoning the power of the dark side in himself, to release it as a burst of blue lightning as soon as his hand would touch the mans arm.
 
Phar'ra could see the sparks before he felt them. As [member="Darth Abyss"] touched his arm, an overwhelming amount of pain ripped through his body, numbing both flesh and mind with it's passing. The most the Kaleesh could do was tear his arm away, the cloth smoldering from the electricity. A pained hiss escaped the lips behind his bone mask as another blast of the Force erupted from his palm to the Mindeater. Unlike last time, pain fueled the young acolyte. It was uncontrolled, unrefined, but a power unlike what was before came from the Shadow Hand.
 
The second push from his fromer apprentice was stronger, but raw and undefined. He had connected to his inner darkness, he had allowed the pain to become anger, and he had drawn from it. Abyss stumbled a few steps back, again catching his balance after a bit of distance was between the two. The crimson blade rotated once in his hand and then stopped, the tip of it pointing at [member="Phar'ra"]

"Good. Unleash your hate, do not fight to survive, fight to kill me for all I have done to you."

The voice of the mindeater boomed through the hall as he readjusted his stance, holding the vertically in before his body, while pulling back his left foot to give him more stability.

"You had a future once, now you are just a tool. One that will be forgotten when death finds you. How does that make you feel?"

Another taunt thrown at the kaleesh, another set of words aimed at the innermost demons of the man. He wanted to see all his hate, all his anger, he wanted to know what potential was behind that bone mask.
 
For the first time since he met [member="Darth Abyss"] the Kaleesh felt a hate for him. He had always hated how he was treated, but that was the point. The Master in this relationship was to make the apprentice hate to give him power. Knowing this, Phar'ra found it artificial. Fake, superficial. But here, with all these taunts even after the Acolyte had accepted his fate, he got angry.

His one good eye turned into a deep yellow color, and there he saw power. Just a taste, enough to show what happens when real emotion influences his mind. The Shadow Hand ran forward, bringing his both hands onto his blade to strike out at him. Anger fueled his movements, and his attacks were anything but predictable. Wildly he slashed out, almost like a Vornskr going after it's prey relentlessly. He hated this point in his life. Hated Abyss for reducing him to nothing simply because he was captured.

Why? Who had replaced him? I will kill who ever it was. And I will kill this man for doing this to me. Like hell I'll stay nothing.
 
Now that was what he wanted to see from his shadow hand. Fury, simple and raw, without finesse and control. The kaleesh didn't saw what Abyss was doing here, forcing him to let his feelings control him, instead of using them. It was the path of a monster, not of a sith, and it would inevitable lead to being utterly corrupted. That was all he saw in the man anymore, and all he wanted to see. A tool to deploy whenever he needed someone to bring death to his enemies, yet not important enough to be non replaceable.

This time Abyss had to actually exert himself to block the furious series of strikes, moving backwards step for step to avoid being cut open by the aliens lightsaber. The dark side pulsed strongly through him, but while the time in the arena had forged his skills, it had cost him the restraint needed to be a sith. A disappointing, but understandable process, and not one that was impossible to undo. He still had some hope for [member="Phar'ra"], but he wouldn't tell him until the day would come that he would prove himself to Abyss again.

"Your hate gives you strength, in controls your movement, it pushes the limits of your body and mind. Again."

Once more he got into position, his blade held like before. He had chosen to stay in defense for now, until the alien would overextend his endurance, and then put him back in his place. There were simpler ways to teach that lesson, but no one ever said that becoming a sith was easy.
 
Again?

Rage filled the Kaleesh as he stared down [member="Darth Abyss"] . Was this what he wanted? Phar'ra to be controlled and consumed by his own hate? Then so be it. He would submerge himself as far down as he could go. But he would never loose himself. Let this dive be temporary, for one day when he has learned enough he would become Sith. And no one would stop him. A blood curdling roar escaped his lungs as he rushed forward again, bringing his saber around in a single handed strike. As he lashed downwards with the plasma, his other hand game around to unleash another blast of the Force, intent on off balancing the Lord before his strike.
 
Abyss staggered back a bit, but he still managed to catch the incoming blade with his own, redirecting it so it fell down besides him. The monster had decided to show up, now it was up to [member="Phar'ra"] if it would stay or go away again. His blade returning in a defensive stance once more, he took another step back, while he summoned his real power, the one that set him apart from the knight he had once been and made him a creature simply addressed as the Mindeater by his enemies.

His left lifted in the air, pointing at the man, as his mind began to fire a storm of invisible daggers at the aliens thoughts, with the purpose of full control over his body. He didn't created fear, he didn't made himself into a monster or demon that was coming for him, instead he simply command the body of the alien to stand still.

Phar'ra didn't feared monsters or men, no hid fears were of a more personal, intimate nature. He wished to be someone no matter the price. Showing him that his free will was only an illusion in the presence of Darth Abyss would be enough to let fear run down his spine.

"I rule over you mind with a simple thought, and one day I might also rule over your people if I wish so."

There it was, the final threat. It was a fact that humans made formidable sith. Some would argue that it was part of how adaptable they were, but Abyss knew that reason was even simpler. All over the galaxy they had build entirely different cultures, and yet they were still human in the end, and being human meant to survive by any means necessary, if disloyalty and treason. The kaleesh on the other hand, like most warrior cultures were bound by honor, by loyalty to their people. He allowed his mental grip to fade, awaiting the aliens next action.
 
[member="Darth Abyss"] would find that the Kaleesh's mind was not as easily broken as before, even though it took about as much time as it had when he last invaded Phar'ra's mind. Even though he had submerged himself so far into the dark and hate, the Firstborn still had enough sense to keep a barrier on his mind. A barrier that proved worthless. All at once his body stopped moving how he wanted, forcing him to stand still.

All he was was anger. His on eye stared at the Mindeater, his mind struggling to move once again. And he did. It wasn't much, but he struggled and struggled until he took a half step forward. It was all he could muster while Abyss spoke. But, once the grip ended the larger man fell to his knees like a puppet with it's strings cut. He remained silent none the less, staring up towards him.
 
With satisfaction the mindeater watched as the man struggled and struggled but then finally took almost a step forward, despite the power he had summoned upon him. He truly was his shadow hand now, ruled by hate and anger, a rage filled weapon to throw on his enemies in the knowledge that he would get the job done, maybe even with the cost of his life.

"Good. I can almost remember why you were once my apprentice. Almost."

It was a little hint, a small glimpse of hope offered to the broken kaleesh. He wanted that he would reach his limits, walk upon one path or another, but which one it would be was up to him now. There was nothing he would give him more than that, he would be serve as shadow hand until he either would be dead or had grown strong enough to be called sith once again on his own. Both paths were hard to walk upon, but at least he had no expectations anymore that could be disappointed.

[member="Phar'ra"]
 
Phar'ra continued to remain silent as he stared up at [member="Darth Abyss"] . Once, the Kaleesh viewed the man as a god, evil yes, but a god none the less. Now, all the one eyed man viewed him as was a man to hate. A man that one day the Kaleesh would kill. If it took decades, Phar'ra would suffer through to reclaim his title as Sith, and push Abyss into the grave the acolyte was so ready to dig. His hate would give him power, and eventually he would use it.
 

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