Private Tainted New Blood

[34125]

Well, the "Gladiator King" certainly lived up to his name.

With the rest of his men aboard the corvette dead, Lanssut finally opted to show himself. And he did so with flare: he blasted the door he was hiding behind off of its hinges, decked in crafted armor that seemed to match the armor plating on the ship's hull, and hoisting a makeshift cannon that most certainly had not been intended to be held by a man. If Maerae had time to be impressed, she would have been.

As it was, though, she was racking her brain for a solution to this new problem.

The soldiers seemed to think it would be as easy as shooting the man. But when their blaster fire left nothing but carbon scoring behind, leaving Lanssut unharmed, they learned that this fight would not be as simple as the last one. Lanssut's cannon quickly killed two of the men, practically incinerating their bodies. The rest of the soldiers, along with Maerae herself, dove for cover behind the terminals.

Maerae did not have to reach out with the Force to feel her men's fear. She too was afraid, easily identifiable in the way her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. But another deafening blast of Lanssut's cannon, and the complete eradication of the terminal next to her, told the young Acolyte that she really didn't have time to process her emotions.

She had to kill Lanssut before he killed all of them.

"Open fire!" She barked, "I want every rifle in this room trained on him!"

"B-but, my Lord," the soldier next to her shivered, "he'll kill us all!"

"He'll kill us anyhow! Fighting is your only chance of survival."

There was a pause, and Maerae was about to resort to threatening the men. Then, with an adrenaline fueled war cry, the soldiers of the Task Force abandoned cover and filled the hall with blaster fire. Much like before, it seemed to have little effect other than annoying the Gladiator King, but Maerae hadn't expected them to kill the man: no, what she needed was covering fire.

She stayed low as she moved, dashing from terminal to terminal, using cover to stay out of Lanssut's sight while he obliterated her men and the interior of his own corvette with his makeshift weapon. She had only one option, and that was to kill Lanssut with a well placed stab between the plating of his armor. Maybe if she'd had a lightsaber, things would have been easier. But all she had was a vibrosword, and it would have to do.

With only a single terminal and a small stretch of open room separating her from the Gladiator King, Maerae waited. Her men died, more than she would have liked, but in the end it was worth it: she saw an opening. Lanssut swung his his cannon wide, blasting another soldier, and Maerae vaulted over her cover with her sword vibrating in hand. The distance between her and the heavily armored man was quickly closed by a few strides of her long legs.

And when she saw the gap in his armor, his armpit, she drove her sword forward with all her might and hoped she struck true.

---

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

Even with all of the squads opening fire on the Gladiator King at once his armor did not falter, the corvette's armor plating easily taking the blaster bolts as Lanssut aimed at one of the groupings of soldiers and fired. The laser cannon rattled as it sent forth a short but deadly volley into one of the squads, cutting down three and wounding a fourth that just barely managed to dive out of the way in time. He didn't fire his weapon again however, instead having to reach back to vent the heat and allow the strained power cells time to properly cool.

Clearly the weapon itself was far from stable and even somewhat impractical in its current form, but the devastating barrage that it could unleash and his seemingly impenetrable armor made up for those faults. It took a good few seconds before the cannon was safe to fire again and the Gladiator King wasted no time in raising it up once more.

"Feel the wrath of the arena!"

This time only half of a squad was hit by the ensuing burst of laser cannon fire, the lot of them quickly diving behind cover to try and block as much of the damage as possible. Three more wounded and one more dead but the remaining soldiers were not as shaken by fear as one would expect. Rather, in a display that would have impressed the Sith Knight if he were to witness it, they did not lament the fate of the fallen but rather turned the momentary grief into anger as they unloaded their blasters in a desperate attempt to break through the armor.

A few of the more composed members of the team began dragging the wounded back towards the doorway, although they didn't pause in their firing unless they needed both hands to pull one of the downed soldiers. Lanssut, far too focused on the troopers that were starting to aim dangerously close to one of the gaps in his armor, didn't notice as the Acolyte crept closer and spotted her opportunity.

Again he aimed his cannon at a soldier and fired but this time only one shot escaped the barrel of the cannon as the vibroblade dug into the gap between the armor plates and caused him to rear back in pain. "Agh! You little harpy!"

The blade had pierced and found the flesh of the Gladiator King but he wasn't down yet.

Lanssut shifted and threw his weight around in an attempt to simply ram the cannon into the Acolyte's head, intending to either knock her to the ground or knock her head clean off, but the hail of blaster fire seemed to catch him off guard after the soldiers had paused to see the stabbing. He stumbled back and tried to raise up his cannon once more but the vibroblade still buried in his arm was making it difficult to wield the heavy weapon.

More notably though, with how he was hunched over from the pain and in an attempt to steady himself, the Acolyte could get a clear view of another gap in his armor. The back of his neck was almost entirely unprotected.

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Maerae's blade slipped between his armor, and struck flesh. Blood spurted around the vibrating sword, and for half a second, the young Acolyte thought that might have been the end of things. But, much like the rest of her life, it wasn't that easy.

It was a valiant effort, but her blow wasn't enough to put the man down. All it really did was piss him off, and when Lanssut swung his cannon at her, she had to abandon her sword in his side, lest she wanted to get her skull caved in. As it was, she still fell to the floor, unable to make a graceful dodge. That might have been the end for her, had it not been for the troopers at her back. Their blaster fire was enough to finally make the man stumble, and Maerae threw herself to her feet to take advantage of the situation.

She reclaimed her vibrosword by ripping it out of the man's side, and when he hunched over from the severity of his wound, Maerae found yet another unprotected spot: the back of his neck. She cleaved downward with her blade, aiming right between those two plates, only to stop. She held her sword, still vibrating, at the back of his neck. She wanted so badly to put an end to things, and decapitate the Gladiator King, but she needed something else from him first.

"If you so much as twitch, I'll separate your head from your body," her voice was low, but she pressed her blade just a little bit deeper into Lanssut's neck to prove her point, "call off what remains of your forces, tell them to lay down their weapons and surrender to Darth Strosius, or the tale of 'the Gladiator King' comes to a pathetic end."

She didn't expect Lanssut to accept her offer. It would make her life, and probably Strosius's, a lot easier, and that just wasn't how the galaxy seemed to operate. But she still had to chance it: their orders were to "subdue" Lanssut, not "eliminate." And though Maerae didn't think the Sith Order would lament his loss, she preferred to carry out her orders to the letter. Better chance of impressing, and better chance of surviving that way.

---

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

Before the Gladiator King could recompose himself after the stabbing, and then the subsequent sudden removal of the vibroblade, the Acolyte had taken her chance and went for his neck. However she hadn't cut into it and put him down like he had expected, instead demanding his surrender. He was almost surprised by it. Lanssut let out a slightly raspy chuckle after a moment, the uninjured troopers forming around him and his apparent captor with their fingers hovering over the triggers of their blasters.

Of course their blasters wouldn't do much in terms of killing him, but getting shot at from all sides would be fairly disorienting even without the blood loss that was currently clouding his mind. "A king does not bow to a pawn. If this Darth of yours wanted my surrender then he should've come in himself instead of running around slaughtering my men."

The mighty and boastful voice of Lanssut sounded far more tired and aged now that he seemed to be resigned to his fate, more akin to a retired warrior than a revolutionary fighter. "Kill me, grant me a death worthy of my life of combat. In the arena there is no surrender. Only death."

He unceremoniously dropped his modified laser cannon as he spoke and awaited his coming execution. There was a slight tone of defiance but nothing like what was to be expected from the Gladiator King. It was also worthy noting that the corvette and the shipyard itself had grown eerily silent, the once chaotic sounds of battle now replace with a still air.

Not even the corvette's weapons were firing anymore and there was certainly no sounds of blaster fire or screams as there had been. Was there even anyone left to surrender aside from Lanssut?

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As expected, Lanssut refused her demand. So be it. He wanted a death worthy of the arena he came from, and yet he dropped his weapon and gave up the fight. If it was death he yearned for, it was death Maerae would grant it to him. But not in the way he wished.

"So be it, Lanssut," Maerae raised her sword, readying it for the final blow, "but in your final moments, know this: a warrior dies on his feet, his weapon in his hands. You die on your knees, like a slave."

Maerae did not grant him the chance to rebuke her. The final swing of her vibrosword was swift and brutal, and with the severing of flesh, tendon, and bone, the Gladiator King was no more. What was left was a body inside a metal shell, laying in a pool of its own blood. An ignoble end for an ignoble man. It was a fitting death for a man who worked against the Order.

The Acolyte turned back to what remained of the task force, and ordered, "fan out. Inspect every nook and cranny of this vessel. If Lanssut left us any surprises, I want them dealt with."

With the soldiers set onto a new task, Maerae took the time to wipe the blood off of her sword onto her robe. Then, sheathing it, she stopped to listen for any signs of ongoing conflict outside the ship. She heard none. It would seem that Darth Strosius had finished eliminating the rest of the insurgent forces. Their mission was almost at an end.

She dug for her commlink, pulling it from a pocket on the inside of her robe.

"My Lord," Maerae spoke, certain that the Sith Knight was still alive to hear her, "I've eliminated Lanssut. I have the task force searching the corvette for any remaining enemy combatants. What is your status?"

---

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

Whether or not Lanssut even would have put up some final remark or rebuttal was never to be known after the blade had been dropped and his head removed from his shoulders. The Gladiator King and his short lived rebellion were dead, and if there were any stragglers or remnants then they would be quickly captured or put down much like their comrades had been.

The remaining uninjured squads set out to search for any survivors aboard the corvette without delay, eager to have the mission well and truly over so that the wounded and the dead could be tended to properly. Once the adrenaline wore off their fears and worries would return in full force but for the moment their victory was simply too sweet to ignore. A handful of troopers did stay behind to help stabilize the wounded though, mostly just to keep them comfortable and stable until the medics eventually arrived.

It took a few moments for the Acolyte's message to be responded to, the voice of her superior crackling through the commlink in a slightly different tone than usual. It sounded like he had taken his helmet off and was simply speaking into the commlink within it rather than wearing it.

:"I am still alive and in fighting condition, although I must admit that I caught a few more wounds than I intended to. I've already tended to them however. I shall send the signal for the medics and cleanup crews to move in, I doubt any remaining gangsters will put up much resistance. Lower the boarding ramp of the corvette and I shall meet you there Acolyte. A proper debriefing is in order.":

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The comm was silent for a moment, and Maerae widened her eyes ever so slightly. There was no way Strosius had died, right? He was a Sith Knight, no paltry criminal could best a-

The commlink crackled to life. Strosius confirmed that he was really no worse for wear, even if he had sustained a few injuries. Maerae took a second to think about that: all on his own, against the forces within the warehouse, and Darth Strosius had lived through it. Compare that to her and her squad, effectively cut in half by Lanssut alone.... it was clear to the Acolyte that she still had much to learn.

The Sith Knight wanted to board the corvette for himself, and Maerae had no intention of trying to deny him, "as you command."

Leaving the soldiers to scour the ship, Maerae located the console that would allow her to lower the boarding ramp. She did so with a simple press of the button, and turned on her heel to meet Darth Strosius at the entrance to the ship. If he wanted a proper debriefing, then she would not dally. Maerae knew all too well what tended to befall those who didn't do as they were commanded.

As she passed the soldiers tending to the fallen and injured, she paid them no mind. Even if she had the compassion to care about them, she had no training in first aid. Strosius had called in the medical teams anyhow. They'd be tended to or they'd be buried. So long as her objective was complete, Maerae did not care. They had died for the Order.

That was the way of things.

---

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

The masked man waited at the end of the boarding ramp as it lowered, a few blaster marks that seemed more like glancing hits than anything else adorning his armor as the only proof of his own battle. Well, that and the body that could be spotted in the distance from the corvette's ramp anyway. "You took care of Lanssut and his ship garrison in a rather timely manner Acolyte. Do give me the full report of your exploits."

He spoke as he ascended up the ramp, the sound of marching boots as the medical and sweeping teams rushed in through the newly opened front door. Finding the controls for it had been a pain but it had certainly allowed for a much quicker entry. "I wish to know the highlights..."

Alisteri paused as he reached the top of the ramp and caught sight of one of the wounded soldiers being tended to, a sigh leaving him as he clicked his tongue and continued. "And the pitfalls. Don't forget the casualty report either." Such a report was always his least favorite to compile but it was his duty to do so given his position in the mission.

The medical teams were soon making their way up the ramp not long after the Knight himself had stopped his stride, seeming to pay the pair of Sith no mind as they reached the injured and deceased. They did notably give them a fairly wide berth though, despite some of them hauling some heavy looking equipment.

"Spare no detail."

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Maerae was waiting for Darth Strosius at the top of the ramp. She bowed to him as he boarded, and then fell a step behind him and followed as he inspected her work in its entirety, including the number of fallen soldiers. She could not gauge the Sith Knight's feelings on the number of casualties, other than the sigh at the idea of filling out the report for such things. But, ultimately, it didn't matter. What was done was done, and Strosius had likely already judged her work. Now, he simply wanted to hear her own words on the matter.

"As you command," Maerae nodded, before jumping into her explanation, "your distraction was more than enough for us to make it to the ship undetected. I entered first, and was met with two soldiers. Though I cut them down, the cry of pain from one of them alerted the guards in the next room. They, in turn, set the rest of the corvette on alert. We cut through them, room to room, and up the stairwell, until we came to the control room door. Lanssut was there waiting for us, in handcrafted armor made from the exterior plating of the ship, and wielding one of the corvette's blaster cannons as a makeshift weapon."

She paused for a moment, to draw in a breath.

"We suffered no casualties until he revealed himself. I suspect he eliminated a little over a third of the task force alone. As it was, I had the men lay down covering fire while I approached him, hiding behind consoles so he wouldn't see me. By the time he caught onto the plan, I had already stabbed him under the arm, and that was enough to put an end to his resistance. I ordered him to stand down and order his men to lay down their arms, so that we might have an easier time securing the rest of the warehouse. Though, I see now that it was a wasted effort: you had already handled the situation. When he refused to do so, I executed him."

She supposed that summed it up. As far as she could remember, she had left out no detail that might be important. Maerae had even thought it fit to mention the part where she gave Lanssut a chance to stand down, a downright damning decision if Darth Strosius thought she had made it out of a desire to be merciful. Which she hadn't: she had been trying to be pragmatic, but it mattered not.

For better or worse, Strosius would make his judgement.

---

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

Alisteri faced the Acolyte as she began her report and crossed his arms behind his back, not seeming to pay any head to the bodies, the soldiers, or the medical personnel tending to and evacuating the wounded. Rather his masked gaze and attention seemed to be focused entirely on her, the shadows cast by the overhead lighting on his hood obscuring any reflections from his visor aside from her face.

Throughout the report he stood silent and still much like that of a statue and with just as much reaction. He did give a very small nod, more of a slight drop of his chin really, as she took a breath however.

When she was done speaking his still and observant stance shifted to his more usual formal yet relaxed one. "I see. A shame that so many brave souls were lost this day. I had expected that they would have some tricks up their sleeves but I was hoping that all of their prototypes and gadgets would be in their armory rather than the corvette. It appears I was wrong." There was a noticeable tone to his words but one that was hard to discern. Frustration or annoyance perhaps? Perhaps even a bit of shame and remorse?

"You did well to keep the squads alive in such close-quarters fighting, even if your initial attack had alerted the rest of the defenders. Infiltration is indeed an area that you must improve in. For your sake..." He idly gestured to one of the bodies of the fallen soldiers, now covered with a cloth, that was being carried out by a pair of stretcher-bearing medics. "And theirs."

He didn't allow much time to process the slight admonishment though as he continued. "You handled Lanssut himself with quick thinking and decisive action, rather than panicking or doing some sort of suicidal maneuver out of desperation. Giving him the chance to surrender was your only mistake in that regard but your orders were to ensure the surrender of his gang so I shall not count it against you. Although I shall offer you another piece of advice, and one that can be used both in combat and in your life as a Sith overall."

The masked man leaned in slightly as if to speak confidentially. "Hesitation is the worst mistake that you can make. When acting, you must be as deadly as you are decisive. If you falter in such dedicated initiatives then your enemy may take advantage and do what you could not. Always go for the kill." With that said he stepped past her as if he had whispered nothing and began walking back towards the boarding ramp.

"Overall your performance was above expected parameters and your adaptability may have just saved the lives of all those soldiers that still draw breath. An excellent job Acolyte Verdan. I will be sure to make note of your capability to your superiors in my report. Now let us take our leave, our work is done here."

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Maerae could gleam nothing from Darth Strosius' visor, no hint of his favor or displeasure, but she supposed it mattered little. No minute facial expression would change anything, other than giving her a hint of of his judgement a few milliseconds early. It wouldn't be enough time to do anything, if he decided pain was to be her reward for her efforts. And, in truth, she probably wouldn't have offered much resistance anyways.

She'd spent six years among the Sith, and the beginning of her life in the alleys of Nar Shaddaa. Pain had ceased to be a fear of hers long ago.

No, her fear was to be denied the chance to become true Sith. Already she was older than most Acolytes. If Darth Strosius found her lacking, all he had to do was spread the word, and her ambitions of becoming a Dark Lord would be dashed. Her one chance at true freedom could be laid waste by a single sentence.

It was a hell of thing.

So when Darth Strosius began to commend her, Maerae was stunned. Even with all her practice at adopting a facade of stoicism, she couldn't help but blink in surprise. In her mind, she had failed utterly: she'd alerted the guards the moment she stepped foot on the ship, lost a third of the squad to one man, and took so long to eliminate him that Strosius had had ample time to clear the warehouse.

Even his criticism came without the normally expected pain. He was—she wouldn't dare to actually voice this—downright merciful in how he handled her failings. He treated them more like a chance to instruct.

And to top it all off, he was going to commend her efforts to his superiors?

"You honor me, my Lord," was all she could offer after her stunned silence, along with a bow of her head, "I will use this experience, and your wisdom, as a means to improve."

Darth Strosius made to leave, and bid she follow, so that the rest of the soldiers and medics could continue their jobs unimpeded. And so follow she did, silently wondering just how much today's events might have changed her future.

---

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

If Alisteri noticed her surprise then he gave no indication of it, aside from a nod as she spoke of him honoring her. He didn't see the need for that really, there was nothing to honor. She had performed well even if there were areas of improvement that needed attention. "See that you do. Stagnation and ignorance are the great enemies of us all." Thankfully she wasn't prideful about it either, another mark in her favor.

The Knight led the way out of the corvette and towards the large doors at the end of the spaceport's wide open floor. Bodies and blaster marks littered the area, draped across their defenses and one another in a grim display of their desperate defense. One or two of them, should one have taken a step closer and given a more thorough glance, even sported odd wounds to their necks. As if their throats had been torn out by something far less precise than a blade yet there was little blood to be found there.

Not that Alisteri seemed bothered by the rather gruesome sights of course, he had been the cause of them after all.

"I shall debrief the soldiers later and see how they rate their own performances today, but for now I believe that they have earned some rest. Having so many comrades cut down on the first assignment is always a terrible loss to morale and resolve." Not to mention the loss of good soldiers as well, or potentially good soldiers in this case.

He glanced back at her as he spoke, shifting just slightly to face her without breaking stride. "Until then however I would like to discuss some further topics with you, Sith Acolyte Verdan. I have a feeling that you can be put towards...great use for our order."

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As Darth Strosius led her back into the warehouse, the young Acolyte made note of a body that had its throat mangled. It was not the work of a blade wielded with precision, nor was it cauterized like that of a lightsaber wound. It was more like the poor man's throat had been torn out, but shouldn't there have been blood gushing from such a wound? How had the Sith Knight in front of her performed such an execution?

Perhaps the Dark Side of the Force really was a gateway to unnatural powers.

Her attention was drawn away from the horrific sight, however, as Darth Strosius made mention of the casualty rate once more. He seemed almost saddened by their losses. Almost. Maerae would never, of course, accuse her betters of something like compassion. More likely was that Strosius mourned the loss of a resource. She understood, then, why he had made a point about improving her own abilities for the sake of those under her command.

"...and a blow to morale and resolve reduces their performance in the field," she nodded, "I understand."

The Knight made one more comment, one she hadn't been expecting: that he thought she would be of use in furthering the goals of the Order.

"I am, of course, at your command, my Lord," Maerae bowed her head once more, "if you have a task for me in mind... then I will see it fulfilled."

For all her brute strength, for all her indifference and professionalism, she was still just an Acolyte expected to obey. That was her life, for now. Serving Strosius, in any capacity, was serving the Order. Serving the Order would bring her power, bring her victory, and only then would she be freed from the chains of subservience.

---

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

"Reduce is an understatement. While an army of droids can be deployed again and again so long as their munitions and power supplies are kept up, soldiers require far more maintenance and investment. People always do." Alisteri had seen overworked soldiers plenty of times in his life, mostly back during the days of the Sith Empire when the frontlines were constant and ever-changing.

"However, that investment and upkeep is well worth it. Permanent soldiers sourced from local populations is a key building block to a functional state. If people can and will fight for the government that presides over them then they are more likely to support it in one form or another." Much like before he spoke as if he was giving her a lecture, as if teaching a lesson. "But I digress, it will be a long time until you have to deal with such matters." Unless the Acolyte chose to start her power base very early in her career of course, which wasn't impossible.

Alisteri didn't continue until they had passed the threshold of the shipyard and were stepping down the road that they had begun the mission on not that long ago. "Tell me more about yourself Acolyte. Your file only really covered your time in the academies, not yourself. Mere statistics and records are of little use without context."

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Strosius mentioned that men were far more troublesome to maintain than droids, and it made Maerae question why the Order, or at least Strosius himself, didn't just use droids then. But then came the explanation: it was about maintaining loyalty, and a sense of patriotism. In a roundabout way, it was about preventing rebellions. And all of this was covered up by the guise of pretending to care about the soldiers' wellbeing. Which, in turn, only earned more respect and loyalty from them.

It was particularly sinister, and it was brilliant. Maerae had mistaken Strosius for just another Sith Knight capable of immense bloodshed. She had been so wrong. How Strosius was not a Sith Lord yet, she didn't understand. But perhaps that, too, was a clever ploy.

"I hadn't realized how ignorant I was, until today," she admitted freely, "the academies only ever taught me doctrine and mayhem."

Was that intentional, she wondered? Did the Sith academies intentionally withhold information, so that upstart Acolytes couldn't threaten the rule of the Order? If she had a bunch of half-baked Force-sensitives, who were more concerned with their own personal glory than that of the Order's, then she'd probably intentionally kneecap them. It was the wise thing to do.

And then, in probably the biggest surprise of the day, Darth Strosius asked about her. As in, her personal history. She'd never met anyone who cared about that sort of thing.

"There isn't much to my history," Maerae explained, "but what little there is, I'll tell: I was born into abject poverty on Nar Shaddaa. I lived like a rat in the alleys, while my father drank himself to death instead of providing for his daughter. After years of living off of scraps, stealing to survive, and being beaten senseless for credits I usually didn't have, I decided that being a stowaway was better than staying on the Smuggler's Moon. By the time I was discovered, the ship was already in Sith space. I was slapped in chains, intended to be someone's slave I'm sure, and was only spared that fate when my strength in the Force was discovered."

---

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

Alisteri actually chuckled at her admittance of her own ignorance, as if she had just realized some blatant truth. He had never been enrolled in an academy himself, not even back during his days as a mere Acolyte, but he knew well enough what they were meant for. They trained warriors and soldiers, not Sith. Not by his definition anyway.

The higher echelons didn't need replacements or allies after all, not when they had each other. They just needed bodies and commanders. How wasteful a practice it was. He listened as the Acolyte spoke of her past and idly tensed up for a moment when she mentioned being enslaved even if it was for a brief time. "My apologies that I had not found you instead. I often forget that our order still allows such a vile practice as enslavement." The venom in his voice lasted only a moment before he continued.

"Life on Nar Shaddaa sounds as dismal and bleak as I expected it to it seems. I've unfortunately had to visit the world in the past once or twice and I've yet to see anything positive about it." In truth he doubted that there was anything positive to see unless one was a member of some organized criminal group that held some sort of power or influence there. Like the Hutts or some other gang of vagrants. "A den of criminals and all their various ilk in one place, disgusting really." One day they really should just bombard that wretched planet from orbit, it would probably cut the crime rates in the Outer Rim in half.

"Frankly it sounds as if you were halfway prepared to join the Sith before you ever set foot in an academy then. Hardship, struggle, perseverance, these are the makings of a true Sith." It was simply the way of things, there was no easy path or life for the Sith. Not for true Sith anyway. There was always strife of course but when one "Thank you for sharing your story with me Acolyte, it offers much in the way of context. Is there perhaps anything I could enlighten for you in a similar manner? There is much to be learned after all."

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Maerae got a sound of amusement out of Darth Strosius, and had to fight not to show the surprise on her face. Perhaps he was more used to Acolytes who thought too highly of themselves, rather than one who knew her how to recognize her own shortcomings, and when to admit them. Regardless of the reason for it, it was far better for him to laugh at her than to be displeased with her. She had known, far too often, what displease brought in the Sith Order.

Though, for a Sith Knight to apologize to her over something he could never have known. Scratch that, for a Sith Knight to apologize to an Acolyte at all... This was not a Sith as she had known them. He was ruthless, and pragmatic, and yet seemed to lack the usual sadism she had become accustomed to. It seemed almost downright heretical, but when she thought upon the Sith Code, she realized that it technically did not demand cruelty from its faithful. Passion, victory, strength... but not cruelty.

Perhaps she had been the one to misunderstand.

"Nar Shaddaa is a cesspool," Maerae could not keep the rage from her usually neutral tone, "and should be wiped clean from the face of the galaxy."

That Darth Strosius thought she'd been groomed to be Sith before ever stepping foot on a Sith world was, well, extremely flattering. She had spent most of her years in Sith space believing herself unworthy to be called Sith. And yet, all in a single day, she finally felt as though she had a chance to be more than a failed Acolyte. She had finally proved that she was capable, and to a Sith Knight no less.

So much so, that he even offered her the chance to ask a question of her own. Many came to mind: why she was assigned to this mission, what was going on with those bodies with their throats torn out, what could she do to earn herself a more permanent place within the Sith.

"If I may be so bold, my Lord," she started, "what is it that you seek? In my short time under you, I have found you to be... less self-centered than I have found other Sith to be. Most I've known care only for their own power and glory, and yet I do not get that impression from you."

---

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

"I am inclined to agree." The masked man had to smother a slight smirk as he caught the anger seeping into her voice as she spoke of her homeworld. It reminded him of the few moments that he would think back on his own origin, of the wrath that would spill into his mind and body at the mere mention of the name Kessel. Of spice mines, slaves, and the greed that kept it all operating. This Acolyte was proving to be more intriguing than he had given her credit for.

Her question made him pause, his stride stopping as he turned to face her fully. Alisteri idly glanced around and saw no one that could serve as an unwanted listener, the nearest individuals being the medical personnel that were loading the injured into shuttles. They were back near the entrance of the shipyard however, nowhere near the end of the walkway that led to the building. That meant he could be somewhat transparent then.

"Do you think my intent so easy to discern, Acolyte? Perhaps you are mistaken in your observations..." The Knight cocked his head to the side for a moment as if inspecting her reaction before quickly continuing. "But yes you are correct. The higher one ascends the hierarchy of the Sith the more shortsighted they tend to become. An unfortunate side effect of viewing the Force as a tool rather than a blessing."

Now was not the time to divulge into a sermon unfortunately, he dare not risk a Sepulchral Priest catching wind of his alternative to the Eternalist doctrine that they enforced upon the worlds of the Sith Order.

Such matters were better discussed far away from Sith space. "As for what I seek, I believe that the answer should be obvious. I am Darth Strosius, Knight Inquisitor of the Sith Order and Knight of the Sith. I seek to strengthen and spread the reach and rule of the Sith as much as I can, no matter how minor my additions may be." A grandiose lecture however was something that he could allow himself. Just this once.

"I seek a return to greatness for the Sith, a return to a galaxy that would bend the knee to the servants of the Dark Side. I seek the destruction of all the enemies of the Sith, both internal and external no matter who or what they are. I seek the unification of our factional order into one unstoppable force that can bring law and order to this chaotic galaxy." Alisteri paused and rolled his shoulders, his tone having wandered from its usual composure to one far more akin to the zealous speeches that he had been titled after.

After a moment of reigning himself in, he looked back at the Acolyte and nodded. "Very simply, I seek victory."

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[34125]

Perhaps it was arrogant of her to assume that Strosius was unlike other Sith. Just because he cared more for his men then most, didn't mean that he wasn't driven by his own selfish ambitions. And, in truth, it might have been insulting of her to make such a claim so boldly. Even so, even as the Sith Knight challenged her perception, Maerae kept her face neutral and listened. For if she was wrong, Strosius would correct her, and there would be a lesson in that.

But as it turned out, she was not wrong.

Darth Strosius was, in fact, less interested in selfish pursuits. His goal, or so he claimed, was the expansion and prosperity of the Sith. Most Sith felt the same, but with a small, yet meaningful difference: that they were the best chance for Sith dominion to reign eternally. Never had she heard of someone who held such a lofty goal without insisting that they would be the one to bring such a future. She heard no boast from Strosius. No claim to the throne.

She heard only an ideal. Only the galaxy as it should have been: united under Sith rule, orderly, and unplagued by the factional infighting that had ruined the Sith time and time again. It would be a galaxy of law; a galaxy where worlds like Nar Shaddaa had no place, would be wiped out, and would never come about again. Never again would she, or anybody, be chained to a life of servitude or destitution.

She fell to a knee.

"To create such a galaxy is the most worthy of goals," her gaze was on the floor, head lowered in deference to Strosius, "I am nothing more than an Acolyte, and I have not earned any distinction beyond that, but I would give all that I am to see your work finished. If you would have me."

---

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

Alisteri said nothing as the Acoltye knelt before him, his head merely tilting down to gaze upon her as she spoke. After her offer of her service he clicked his tongue and shook his head. "First of all, arise and do not fall before me again." A salute or even a bow was one thing, but he had no use for kneeling. Perhaps one day he would require it but it would not be his followers that he would demand a bent knee from.

"I am no Sith Lord nor a member of nobility and I have no issues with my pride. It is not your submission that I desire Acolyte, save that for those that demand it of you. It is your service that I want instead." Service that had already been promised to him evidently, much to his own surprise. But he could work with that. Indeed, he felt as though there was much that could be done with that.

"I doubt you fully realize what it is you have offered me this day. But I shall not reject you." He supposed that having a potential apprentice was something that he was finally prepared to undertake. If not then he would adapt, as would she. "You are already more than I was when my master allowed me a place at her side. Yet you are correct, you haven't quite proven yourself to be worthy of the title Apprentice. You have earned the opportunity to do so however, and I sincerely hope that you do not fail when the time comes."

Alisteri turned on his heel and began walking away once more, eager to leave the shipyard behind as he idly tapped on his commlink to signal his shuttle crew to ready themselves for departure. "Luckily for you, I believe I know the perfect place to test your mettle. Tell me Acolyte, have you heard the tale of the sacred world of Korriban?"

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