Through Power, I Gain Victory

[Taral Mirtis]

[member="Azrael Dugarde"]

Galen stood upon Coruscant once again. This time as a free man. A probationary freedom, but freedom nonetheless. After proving himself to Seras Goto, and the other administrators of the Byss concentration camp, he had been sent to Coruscant to be trained in the ways of the One Sith. A man's signature had been imprinted upon Galen, a man named Azrael Dugarde, and Galen had been told his first trial was finding this man on the grand, overpopulated planet of Coruscant.

Stepping off the prison ship he had arrived on, he was no longer dressed in rags, but instead in simple grey pants and shirt. Around his wrists and ankles were still chains of his previous confinement. Bombs that were set to detonate should he try to leave this planet before Azrael disengaged them, and trackers to make sure he didn't just disappear into the underbelly of Coruscant to lead a life against the One Sith. Breathing in the polluted air of Coruscant, Galen sighed in contentment, and opened himself to the Force. Bogan's blessing filled the hybrid as he spread himself out, at first he couldn't feel the imprint of the man he was to find, but soon, an inkling of what direction to take appeared to him. Bogan spoke to the hybrid Sith as he began his search.

He would search, and follow the feeling that Bogan gave him to find this man that would teach him of the new order of Sith, an order that embraced the ideals of what his father once did, nearly a millennium ago. The ideals that Galen himself would embrace over his now dead father's latter ideas. Where his search would lead him, Galen was not sure yet, but he knew that the destination would lead to further freedom, and further confinement, until the day came where confinement wasn't an issue, as long as his will matched that of the Emperor's.

 

[Azrael Dugarde]

Yess...

Azrael spun with frightening speed, his scarlet blade thrumming through the air, taking one of the criminal scum through the waist. The smell of burnt flesh began to fill the air as his blade whirled around him, deflecting a few ruby bolts back at their shooters. He deactivated his blade, feeling with the Force around the many stacked shelves along the hangar-like space.

*I miss having two blades*

You have chosen a different path this time, Azrael

Sighing mentally, Azrael ran forward again, gathering the Force into him instinctively while clipping his hilt to his belt. With his improved cells, the augmented Sith Knight use his enhanced speed as a reflex nowadays. He leapt over the top of the line of crates before him, on the raised deck of the warehouse. Landing he raised his palm out one side, catching a blaster bolt and drawing the energy of it into him, before slamming it out his other palm and into two criminals who were storming towards him, firing waywardly from the hip. They skittered like bowling pins, tumbling backwards. Ducking low, avoiding another blaster bolt, he drew his hilt and threw the scarlet blade, decapitating the last shooter in the space, his head dropping to the ground as the hilt boomeranged back into Azrael's hand.

*Warehouse clear*, he sent to the Sith Inquisitorial team, who were currently clearing out the warehouse on either side.

Azrael walked out of the hangar-shaped warehouse and towards a small building at the end of the lot, the site of the complex's offices. There he would find the scum-sucking traitor of a Sith Knight.

 

[Taral Mirtis]

Galen continued his journey through Coruscant, various levels and districts were visited as he headed towards the ever growing presence of [member="Azrael Dugarde"]. Occasinoally, his tracking failed, and he would backtrack, following the new direction that he felt the Sith Knight in. Soon, he reached a warehouse district, one of thousands on the planet that was the heart of the galaxy.

Strolling along through the district, Galen kept his eyes peeled as he began to sense danger. Slowing his stroll, turning it into a stalk, Galen crept along towards an office looking building. He felt a dark presence inside, and assumed that it was Azrael Dugarde inside. Stepping through the door, the hiss of a lightsaber greeted him, and the crimson blade drove towards his chest.

Slipping under the blade, Galen's right hand darted out to grasp the Sith's left wrist. Once secured, Galen's left foot slid out behind his opponent's right leg, and Galen jerked his leg back, tripping his foe, and grabbing the man's lightsaber with his free left hand, wrenching it from the Sith's hands. Standing over the downed Sith, Galen pointed the saber at his opponent, and the man whom he thought would be his mentor. Terribly inept, Galen thought as he eyed the man over. "Azrael Dugarde," he said, more as a statement than a question, "The One Sith have commanded I find you for judgement on my life."

Galen did not doubt that his life would be safe, that his freedom was nearly upon him, but he kept the blade pointed at the downed man anyways. A reminder and threat to send to the man that even though he would be his Master, respect would have to be earned, and if the man failed in earning that respect, Galen had little qualms about killilng the man, and even less qualms about the consequences. It was the way of the Sith, no matter what variation, that the powerful would succeed the weak, and the powerful would use the weak for their limited uses.

 

[Azrael Dugarde]

[member="Galen Otros"]

As he stalked towards the office buildings, Azrael drew the power of the Dark Side of the Force into his body, feeling his rage and anger at the affront this Sith Knight had given to the One Sith gathering in his body. Dark Energy thrummed within his bones, as his veins began to darken, turning to black and showing under his skin.

Yessssssssss. Fill your body with the power of the Dark Side The Darkness Within revelled as Azrael pulled more and more of the Dark torrent into his form.

"MALTHAEL, THE WRATH OF THE ONE SITH COMETH." Azrael bellowed as he slammed his off-hand out, slamming the main entrance to the building off its hinges, smashing into a figure holding a lightsaber (Galen) and a prone figure on the ground.

Whirling his 'saber around him in a complex pattern, Azrael's eyes, now black irises upon black sclera, boring a hole into the man who held a crimson lightsaber as the Sith Inquisitor advanced inexorably towards him.

 

[Taral Mirtis]

Galen turned as the voice bellowed out, claiming that a certain Maltheal would fall to the wrath of the One Sith, and Galen smiled. This man he had disarmed so easily was not the one who would train him, "It seems your usefulness has-," but before he could finish he was thrown back with the door slamming into him as a red skinned man stepped through the now empty doorway. Sliding back a few feet, but not falling off his feet, Galen pushed the door off of him with ease and faced the new incomer. However, [member="Azrael Dugarde"] did not seem to be interested in words, and advanced towards Galen as if he was this man named Maltheal.

Deactivating the lightsaber he held in his hands, Galen showed his wrists quickly. The apparant bombs strapped to them would make it clear that he was not the man that Azrael was hunting. Hurriedly, as he sensed this newcomer's strength, wisdom, and power, and knowing that the man matched, if not surpassed that of Galen's father, he spoke, "Azrael Dugarde? I am not Maltheal. He is on the ground. I am Galen Otros, sent here by the One Sith to find you."

 

[Azrael Dugarde]

As he stormed through the open doorway towards the armed figure, his rational brain, although submerged in a raging torrent of Dark Force, noticed two things. First, the man looked nothing like Malthael, nor had the man's Force presence. Second, the man had bombs on his wrists, something of a One Sith design and make. *A prisoner*, his rational brain thought.

Azrael had almost reached the figure of [member="Galen Otros"], who had hastily disabled his scarlet blade, by the time the frantic signals of his rational brain had managed to reach through his rage. His own blade, thrumming through the air, stopped a small distance from the man's neck. Azrael distantly imagined that the blade's heat might give the man a decent tan mark.

The man who had been supine on the ground was hastily scrambling to his feet. Azrael spun, his blade deactivating as his off-hand slammed the man back down with a Force Push. Yet, while this had happened, his shadow had remained in place, seeming to look the standing figure (Galen) over without a hint of curiosity.

One of your brothers in arms, it seems. The Dark Presence rasped in Azrael's mind. Test his loyalty.

"Otros." Azrael's voice emanated from his throat like a glacial wind, frost dripping from the words. "Finish this thing off. Prove your loyalty."

 

[Taral Mirtis]

Galen did not move as the crimson lightsaber of Azrael swung towards him, he did not flinch as it stopped near his neck; the heat burning his already red skin as he leaned his head away from it, cocking his head he looked at Azrael as he disengaged his lightsaber, and used the Force against the prone Malthael, yet his shadow did not move. Curious about that, Galen payed more attention to it than Azrael himself before he turned back, an icy voice emanating from Azrael's lips. Smiling for the first time, the sociopathic hybrid spun quickly and grabbed the prone individual beside him.

Crouching beside the fallen Sith, Galen held him by the hair, smiling and staring. At first, he said nothing, but when the man began begging for his life, offering anything for his safety and survival, Galen's grin slid away, instead only steely eyes gazed into Malthael's soul, and with a shake of his head, Galen spoke, "Begging for life is worse than dying," and his teeth sunk into Malthael's neck as Galen yanked the fallen Sith's head back, sloppily drinking the Sith's blood, he twisted and tore at the man's throat until it was only a mangled and atrocious mess hanging together simply by the spine.

Tossing the destroyed body to the side, Galen stood, chin covered in blood as he wiped it off and licked his finger clean. "My loyalty has never been something to question, Master Dugarde." Finishing off the blood on his fingers, Galen stared at Azrael, and his foreign shadow, his eyes locked with Azrael's as he loosely held the deactivated lightsaber in his hands, before spinning it and offering it towards the other, hilt first if it were activated. "Now about these restraints? I have appeared, it's your decision whether they detonate or are removed."

 

[Azrael Dugarde]

Azrael observed without a word, as his shadow loomed slightly over Otros and Malphael.

A Garhoon, yet not. Watch this one, Azrael The Dark Presence spoke softly within Azrael's mind. The Dark Side of the Force runs as deeply within his veins as yours.

*Curious* Azrael thought. *Mustn't let this one stand behind me too often.*

At Galen's words, "My loyalty has never been something to question", Azrael shot him a sceptical look, one eyebrow raised, before looking pointedly at the bombs on the man's arms. *Obviously someone has questioned it*, he thought to himself, darkly.

He shook his head.

"Keep the hilt, it will be serviceable until you are ready to make your own." He smiled drily, his lips a thin slash on his face. "And we abstain from deciding upon your fate as yet."

Azrael tapped his comm unit twice, a non-verbal signal for the rest of his team to reassemble back at their vehicles.

"Come with me, [member="Galen Otros"], there are other targets for us, and the night is still young." Azrael gestured for Galen to follow. "When the tasks are finished, then so will you be, one way or another."

 

[Taral Mirtis]

Galen watched the other human man look at his wristbombs when he said that his loyalty wasn't something to question. "Even today, some Sith don't approve of patricide," he would say, shrugging as he slipped the lightsaaber onto his waist. Looking back at the now devoured corpse of Malphael, Galen smiled, his teeth still stained red and his body coursing with energy as the high of devouring a Force User ran through his veins. It was a delicacy, and it was one that Galen truly enjoyed.

Nodding at [member="Azrael Dugarde"], Galen fell in step with him, keeping his hands clasped behind his back. "Other traitors then? I wonder if they'll be as delicious as this one."

 

[Azrael Dugarde]

Patricide, eh? Interesting. The Dark Presence noted.

*Yeah, I know. Death follows this Sith's tails like a loving mistress.*

"Traitors, spies, kingpins, politicians... I forget the details." Azrael led [member="Galen Otros"] to the line of armoured transports. "Sometimes, they're one and the same. Regardless, they're to be eliminated with extreme prejudice."

"Our next target occupies part of the lower city. He's a Sith Acolyte, yet powerful, much like you. He's been helping out one of the Hutts here with his empire, without thought for the One Sith's own aims. The moment we step foot in the favela, we're gonna come under heavy fire. They don't much like our type around there." Azrael turned to look at the redskinned figure before him, his shadow remaining focused forwards. Because, creepy, y'know?
"Any thoughts on how we should approach this? Our latest intel says he's meeting with his boss now, at the heart of the Hutt's power, the Green Dragon club."

 

[Taral Mirtis]

Galen said nothing as [member="Azrael Dugarde"] spoke. Simply nodding his head and following the man beside him towards an armored transport convoy. It was all very militaristic, highly durable, and obvious from miles away what their purpose was. All of it was to Galen's disliking, but for now he had to play along with the man and follow his lead. At least until his bombs were removed. Then his distaste for such overt methods of assassination would be fully revealed.

"Creepier than the Slenderman Corellian children hear will swallow them whole when they stay up past their bed time," Galen finally said after Azrael finished speaking. Then he sat and stroked his beard for a moment, lost in thought and playing the part of thinking scholar. It was all a charade, he didn't need a specific pose or action to think, but who didn't enjoy the feeling of stroking their fingers through their beard? It was pleasant, and enjoyable.

His eyes returned to Azrael's gaze, and a sinister smile crossed his face. "Give me a dagger, something that will get past a scanner, just in case, and lose the transport. Get us there in something civilian, and then give me fifteen minutes. If I fail, well the whole place will blow, if I succeed, well you didn't risk any of your men."

Galen paused for a moment, and then tapped the bombs on his wrists, "Don't worry, I don't plan on defecting, only you can take these off, the higher ups were smart with these, and I'd prefer to not die just yet."

 

[Azrael Dugarde]

"Sounds fair. This," at which Az gestured to the military convoy, "Is part of the job, and the image presentation. The whole "be scared for you life" philosophy of the Sith."

He paused, looking at [member="Galen Otros"]. "Tell you what, I'll remove those bombs so long as I come with you. In case you decide to go AWOL." Azrael smiled a shark's grin at the man. He didn't know him from a bar of soap, but obviously SOMEONE up the chain of command thought he might be a long-term escape risk. Because why else attach bombs to someone's arms, no?

"I can give you a blade or seven, and we can just walk there, there's no hurry. But unless you've got some hidden talent in Force Stealth, he's gonna know we're coming." Az quirked an eyebrow at his new Acolyte. "Any plans for that?"

 

[Taral Mirtis]

Set stood there in shock, but kept it all inside when Azrael said he'd remove the bombs now. He did not expect that, such an act of...kindness, yes that's what it was, was something that Set did not expect. This man was nothing like the previous encounter with a member of the One Sith, this man wielded authority through merit, not fear. Interesting, Set thought, Very Interesting. He was growing to like this man, despite the unpleasant original greeting. The man's shadow was still something to wonder about. But, it would be addressed later.

"If you think that best, I won't complain." Set said in response to the bombs being removed, "Don't worry, I don't plan on running. I chose to get caught, I chose this path to get here...to find you." This man reminded Set of what his father once was. the glimpses of the man that his father was before the centuries claimed his sanity and reason. This man was one of the greats, and suddenly Galen realized that this man would be the one who brought Galen to his own greatness.

Thinking on the question posed by [member="Azrael Dugarde"]. Truly thinking, not simply acting the motions out, soon a plan formed, "We approach by foot. Around back. Stay far enough back, and have the rest of your men go in with all the glory of the One Sith," motioning to the armored transport caravan, "with intent known. Then we slip in. Our presence will be lost in the chaos, and our target will ignorant of our approach."

Nodding to himself, it seemed to be a solid plan. Perhaps casualties would be acquired, but casualties were acceptable, even when they were allies. The mission was what was important. The mission was the ultimate goal here. "Blades would be nice."

"Shall we begin?"