Private War Stories-LOTS

[Darth Acharon]

The assault on Alderaan had been the largest undertaking Acharon had ever taken part in, let alone commanded. While not an original thing, attacking Alderaan, he actions had still earned himself some consideration. and possibly even approval, from the Worm Emperor. That was important, as their first meeting had not progressed all that well. Acharon still dreaded to think about it, if he was to be honest with himself. However, now that he was back on Korriban, Acharon had time to explore a secondary thing that had caught his attention while on Alderaan.

Several of his Ailaran soldiers had reported the presence of a 'Sith Knight' aiding them during the brief conflict. The individual had strong combat capabilities, and a sense of themselves that made others not question him. Strangest of them all, however, was that this individual seemed to use a blaster as well as their lightsaber. Acharon had secured some of the soldiers helmet recordings, intrigued to see for himself this individual they spoke of. He had been impressed, and Acharon, at the time, had made a mental note to look into this warrior further when they returned to Lords of the Sith space.

Now was that time. Sitting in orbit above Korriban was the Bane, the first Ardasa Class Star Destroyer built under his personal supervision by the Lords of the Sith. The prison ship was currently only half full, a mixture of prisoners from Alderaan and criminals of the Lords of the Sith, all united on this vessel in an endless series of agony and punishment as Acharon debated what he was to do with them. Quintus Varro had been invited to board the vessel, and he would be escorted to the personal Meditation Chamber Acharon used while he was aboard the ship. The nature of the vessel would serve as a test for this Quintus in of itself. The void stones scattered throughout the vessel would limit any Force Users capabilities, forcing them to rely entirely on their physical abilities. Acharon would use this to test the would be Knight, and see what he could further figure out about him.

To see if he could be further trained.

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[Quintus Varro]

Well, the jig was up. He'd been summoned by one of the Sith Lords aboard their person ship for a chat. It was inevitable and yet despite the feeling of that the entire world was falling apart around him he pressed on. He looked to the left and right curiously as he passed through the ship. It had the standard Imperial shape, but Quintus had to admit from the outside it gave off a different vibe. It looked impressive.

His escort was silent and seemed well trained. Not that he'd given any real thought to trying to run. No he was going to play this out until the very end. He owed himself at least that much in the end. That thought alone quelled the fear inside of him that had been threatening to crack his icy façade of indifference he showed to the world. If he buried himself in fear he'd never get out. No perhaps he'd just shown he was worth some inkling of interest, or even that he might be a useful tool. The Sith were always looking for new tools and edges against each other. It made him curious and not for the first time just how powerful the Sith could be if they weren't constantly trying to destroy one another.

Then again perhaps that's what it was to be Sith. He held no lost love for the Sith. They'd enslaved him and his people, a people he didn't even know. He wasn't a fool a though. His fate was tied into their own, and if they fell he'd have nothing to show for it. Where if they grew in power and he with them he might yet be more then a wasted life.

His thoughts caught up to him as he realized his escort was stopping in front of a door. As it opened before him Quintus entered tentatively as he glanced around the room but kept bringing his eyes back to the Sith who'd summoned him. The Sith, not the man or whatever species he was. No the idea of Sith took ownership it felt of all other things that a person was. With a respectful bow he'd practiced many times he announced himself and then was silent. "My Lord, you've requested my presence?"

Darth Acharon

 

[Darth Acharon]

Acharon watched Quintus Varro enter in silence. Acharon sat on a small round chair, his legs folded underneath him and his hands resting on his knees. His saberstaff hung in the air before Acharon, held up by a steady concentration of Force energy. Such a task anywhere else would have been something Acharon could do in his sleep. Here, aboard an Ardasa Class, however, it was a considerable strain. There was even pain, lingering at the edge of Acharon's mind as the saberstaff bobbed in the air slowly. The pain, the strain of holding it in place, were all training for Acharon. Everyday he practiced this for an hour, and everyday is became slightly easier.

He nodded his head at the words Quintus spoke to him, reaching out with his right hand to grasp his saberstaff and letting go of the Force. Almost at once the pain in his mind began to vanish, and Acharon uncurled himself, rising to his feet. "I have indeed, acolyte. You took part in the operation to Alderaan, alongside the rest of the Lords of the Sith. You fought on the frontline against our foes, while others took the safer route within the Palace. While other Sith disdain the use of the weapons of lesser individuals, you use them to great effect."

Turning, Acharon walked across the small room they were in and placed his saberstaff on a small desk. He ran his gloved hand across it for a moment, removing a small trace of dirt that he had missed on it from cleaning the weapon earlier. "Perhaps the biggest question I have though, is why do you try to play yourself off as a Sith Knight. You certainly have some ability, and could possibly even challenge Sith of that rank. There is no shame in admitting you have things to learn, in being an acolyte. So why do you try to be a Knight before your time?"

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[Quintus Varro]

He was surprised at his own acceptance of the question, and the revelation of his lie. For a moment his face remained impassive, but he nodded giving truth to the words. He did find one curiosity in there at the words of lesser individuals. Pride, it seemed almost universal within the Sith. Still he needed to answer. He could think of only one adequate way to explain why he'd take such a dangerous route to avoid completing his training.

He hadn't worn armor into the Sith's meditation chamber, in truth he had none that was actually his, and that made what he was about to do all the simpler. Pulling off his shirt he revealed his golden body covered in dozens of large silver scars. Entire area had been burnt silver by the pyromancer Sith, madness without reason or purpose. "I have been an apprentice before, my Lord, and I'd rather avoid such experiences again. If you want the truth simply put it is not teaching I avoid but the absolute control of a rage filled master is something I sought to avoid. Darth Vulcanus is perhaps a touch madder then many I met, but an apprentice does not control where he goes. He must obey and survive. He bleeds and burns a his master's will and rage. A Knight? Yes the challenge of training and expectations are just as dangerous, but at least I could control my own fate then."

As he said it all he knew he placed himself in danger speaking of Sith in such a manner but the act of revealing it all felt empowering. Let them burn him and beat him again. Sith spit let them throw him back in the carbonite. He'd made this decision, his fate would be his own no matter what they said.

Darth Acharon