You Will Learn

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Coruscant. It felt like an age had gone by since he last had set foot on this planet. This was where it had all begun for him. This was where he first encountered the Sith. The then Sith Knight, Sage Bane, had sensed potential in the Togruta, and dragged him out from obscurity, and thrust him into the dark clutches of Darth Vornskr. And so his days as an apprentice to Epicanthix had begun. Now, the apprentice had become a knight, and the knight who had recruited him was now the Hand of the Dark Lord. Oh, how time flies by.

Now it was Pyrrhus' turn to start the cycle anew. While one had been sent to him from the depths of Primeval space, it was time to pick an apprentice from their own ranks. His visit to Coruscant served but one purpose, and it was not for pleasure. He would visit the Sith Academy, and from their Sith hopeful, he would claim one for himself. Who would be worthy? Would there be any at all?

Darth Pyrrhus was ever loyal to the One Sith, and a firm believer of the Sith Code. It came as a surprise to no one that he would dress himself in the traditional garbs of the Sith. Underneath the dark hooded robe, he wore the black tunics and comfortably wide pants of the Sith. His badge of office, a lightsaber, hung from his belt. He was a Togruta, and one of the few of his kind within their order. His red skin, with fierce white markings made him stand out in the crowd. Even amongst other Togruta he was different, as most had three lekku, yet he had four. Unusual, though not unheard of. Even before his time with the Sith, he had lived a life of conflict. Yet it was nothing compared to the arduous training Darth Vornskr had subjected him to. It had rewarded him with a hard body, and a powerful frame.

Darth Pyrrhus waited alone in a large training room. For now, he was alone, but he was expecting the arrival of three others. These three were names that had stood out to him, when inspecting what the academy had to offer. Yet he demanded a closer look before making his decision. The Overseer of the academy had promised that they would remain uninterrupted during the process. Initially, the Overseer had insisted that he accompany Pyrrhus during his selection, but he had denied him that. He couldn't stand the man. He had no doubts that the Overseer had gotten his position for political reasons alone. Certainly, it had nothing to do with skill.

[member=Mullarus]

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Crux Mullarus had waited years for this day. Subjecting himself to his grandfather's horrendous training and torment had nearly broken him. It forced him to alter his body and become less-than-human. It was a seemingly insufferable means to this end.

Only, Mullarus' story was just beginning.

Prove your worth for Lord Phyrrus, whom awaits you beyond this door. Fail, and you will not only humiliate yourself, you will likely die. No, you will wish to die, for you will NEVER live down your failure! So...bring yourself glory. Give unto yourself the title. Sith.

These were the words preached to the young, cybernetically-stabilized man as he stood before the entrance to the final barrier keeping the man from claiming the title of Sith. The Republic had destroyed almost everything dear to him, and he would bring unholy flames to the galaxy in a bloody retribution. The only things stopping him were his social status and body, which both required heavy enhancements before he may bring hell to the Republic.

Mullarus said nothing to the Overseer, as speaking when not spoken to resulted in punishment from his grandfather. He knew he was here to communicate through actions, not words. He knew he was ready.

The Overseer opened the door and allowed for Mullarus to step through. Not hesitating, the young man entered the dark training room in his grandfather's old, but well-kept red and black robes. A vibrosword bearing the sith code engraved on it's blade in very small glyphs hung at his side. His boots echoed through the room as he emerged into [member="Darth Pyrrhus"]'s eyesight.

From today to the day I perish, I will bring glory to the Sith and restore honor to my name. I shall put myself into chains so that I may bear their scars and one day shatter them with proof that I have grown strong.

The Force shall free me.

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Spoiler

Is it just me, or are tags not working well today?

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The trio of Sith hopeful entered. One was a Human, such as himself, only female. She had long, red hair, sharp eyes, and an athletic frame. The other was a Bith male, tall but slender. Despite her feminine physique, the girl looked far stronger than he. And then, of course, there was Mullarus. They were all dressed in the same, black robes. All apart from Mullarus, of course, who added a touch of red. Which of these would he learn to know by the name apprentice? He would permit only one of them the privilege. And it was a privilege.

The Togruta's eyes examined them all. His look was piercing, giving the impression that nothing could remain hidden from his gaze. #EyeofSantii. The Togruta would pose them with two revealing questions. They were connected, and he hoped to be able to gauge the acolytes based on them. Ultimately, of course, he cared little for their words. Actions, he had seen, spoke infinitely louder. "Why are you Sith?" his eyes travelled slowly from one acolyte to the other. "What does it mean to be Sith?" the second question sounded. For now, that was all he demanded of them. His eyes landed finally on Mullarus, implying he wanted to hear his answer first.

[member=Mullarus]

Spoiler

OOC: Tags have not been working well for me ever since I joined.

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Mullarus' answer was almost instant, as if he had been asked these questions multiple times. He had been. Everything he had learned of the Sith he had learned from his persistent, lethal grandfather whom had seemed obsessed with refining his grandson into the perfect Sith.

"I am not Sith." Mullarus answered, somewhat modestly, "But I have made it my goal to become one." Mullarus spoke firmly, his voice calm, collected, and focused. There was no anger in him today, only determination.

The young man answered the second question. "For me to be Sith is to follow my line of blood. My legacy. Three generations before me gave birth to a wise Sith Lord whom I am proud to call my grandfather. He taught me everything I know of the Sith, and I desire for more. For me to be Sith is to fulfill the wish of my family and the destiny I have laid out before myself."

[member="Darth"] Phyrrus

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The boy answered without hesitation. This was good, he was sure of himself. Yet sometimes, it paid off to take the road of patience, to analyse the cards one had been dealt, and which would have the greatest impact if played in that very moment. However, this came to Mullarus as if instinct, proving that he had at the very least the appropriate mindset to become Sith.

The two others gave different answers, as to why they were Sith. One mentioned strength, the very fact that she had survived against all odds and great diversity. The Bith claimed it was the mysterious workings of the Force, who had chosen him, marked him as one destined with for greatness. In the end, he only found one answer satisfactory. "You are right. You are not Sith. You are neophytes" They had not earned the right to claim that title. As he finished the sentence, he heard his own voice but recognized the words as those of his own master. Pyrrhus, as an apprentice, had accepted his own inferiority. In fact, he had relished in it, for it proved the greatness of the Sith. He had once thought himself strong, but in comparison to the Sith, he had been nothing but an insect. It had not disheartened him, as it had only showed him how high he could climb. With the Dark Side as his companion, there were absolutely no limits.

Mullarus' second answer, however, caused a frown to shape on his brow. He did not see his reasoning, as mostly, he couldn't relate. Partly, it was because he had no family of his own. There was only himself. Power for power's sake, power for himself and no other. "Legacy. If you seek to become Sith to satisfy the wish of your family, you will die long before you accomplish that goal. Honour is for the dead, it serves no purpose to the living, other than as a tool to be exploited. Do not subjugate yourself to their shadows, rise above them."

"Your ancestors do you no favours here. Great Sith have risen from all backgrounds. In fact, there is a former slave in the very uppermost hierarchy of the Sith. Do not let it fool you into an entitled sense of pride. It will be stripped of you. All that matters is strength."

And on that final note, it was time to proceed. The female laughed mockingly, thinking Mullarus was being reprimanded. She saw it as an opportunity to gain favour with Pyrrhus. What she got from him, however, was far from it. Was she ready to back up that attitude, when she was all alone? That was all that mattered, and he had his doubts. He sensed she took advantage of the situation, falsely believing there was safety in agreeing with the most powerful being in the room. He looked at her disapprovingly, before saying "Every action carries with it an echo. Be always prepared to face the consequences of any challenge spoken. Don't let arrogance consume you." What was he doing? Why was he lecturing them with words? Time to teach with the blade. He did not need to give them words, the scars that would surely latch onto their skin would be lesson enough. It was not his job to teach, only theirs to learn.

He didn't even wait for the others to answer. "You are nothing. One of you will become my apprentice. The rest will remain nothing." Don't like that reality? Prove me wrong, he thought to himself. All that mattered, in the end, was strength, and how the strong shaped the world in their image. He could say anything, and it could be true, as long as he had the strength to back it up. When nothing happened, Pyrrhus raised an eyebrow. What were they waiting for? Fight.

The Bith slowly, subtly, started walking backwards, hoping no one noticed him. Coiled up in with her own pride, and with a false sense of security, it appeared the girl had not yet realised what was going on. Would Mullarus?

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Mullarus did not approve of the Lord lecturing him on how his legacy did not matter in the long run. He was not in this to impress his family or to make their dreams come true, but he was here to prove that the teachings of his grandfather, passed down for generations, would help to forge Mullarus into a Sith Lord like them.

Upon hearing the woman begin to assert herself over him, Mullarus closed his eyes, picturing what he wished to do to her. I would make you one with the Force early... Anger began to build up in him from the humiliation.

He opened his eyes again to see Pyrrhus cock up a brow, as if waiting...for what? It became almost clear when the bith started backing up. What are you backing off for? Proving your cowardice already?

Mullarus' grandfather's words echoed as he glanced over at the arrogant woman to his side, 'The Sith value power and strength above almost all else. Destroy the competition and you will rise to the top, my child. Only the strong survive. That is how the Sith remain powerful...forever'

"You are no better than I am."

The young man turned, drawing the sith vibrosword from his hip and going to slice the woman's arm in half at the elbow and follow up by force-pushing her to the far wall. Mullarus put every bit of his anger for the woman into the strike, his teeth grit together. I'll see you bleed...

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

He felt the change in the air, as Mullarus' senses responded to the insult from the girl. There was anger in him, good. Pyrrhus would teach him to get in touch with it, control it, and transform it into a burning furnace within, to fuel his power and ties to the Dark Side. That is to say, if he lived through this day...

When he made his reply to her, it was her eyes that narrowed. She seemed to hiss at him, clearly taking offense. Yet, she had not expected an attack. She had been blinded by arrogance, poking at Mullarus yet not preparing for what she provoked. The girl drew her weapon too, but by the time she was drawing, he was slicing. In truth, Pyrrhus failed to see why she had been brought before him in the first place. Perhaps she acted good on command, when everything was explained to her. But she showed no initiative, no understanding. She was a pawn, and if Mullarus had his way, she would become nothing more.

His blade touched flesh, and it dug deep into her arm. She screamed. She had pulled away, trying to avoid his attack, but in this she had failed. He had not managed to cut her arm cleanly off, but looking over at what happened instead, she might as well have let him take it off. Half carved into her arm, bone broken, the arm was still attached, but merely hanging on by a thread. There was so much blood. Was he ready to accept the damage he had dealt? Did it sicken him? Did he relish it? Was it irrelevant? She at any rate, became irrelevant, as he Force Pushed her away. Her body hit the wall, and she collapsed on the floor. She was not knocked out, but she was out of the fight. For the duration of the last duel, she would provide them with her soundtrack of wailing agony.

The Bith that had backed away had not done so out of fear. He was simply reading the situation, calculating his best move. Now, one Acolyte had taken out the other. That was less competition for him. He was pleased. Finally, he unleashed the attack he had been building up while the others fought. Similar to Mullarus' final gift to the girl, he unleashed a concentrated wave of the force, a Push, aimed at him.

The Togruta Knight? Merely enjoying the show.

[member=Mullarus]

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Mullarus had honestly not expected a fight out of the Bith, so when he felt a wave crash into his back, he took the brunt of the attack, flying toward the wall. Argh, bastard! As quickly as he had attacked, he had been retaliated against from behind. Mullarus slammed against the far wall, pain shooting across his chest and legs. However, his self-discipline forbade him from crying out in pain. He knew the consequences.

Mullarus landed on his feet as he peiled himself off of the wall, picking up his vibrosword from the floor nearby. His hateful gaze landed on the Bith as he took a few steps in his direction, "You strike from the back of your foe...no better than a jedi. You are an honorless swine. Get ready to die like one." The young man said the two words, honorless swine, with such anger through his teeth that he sounded as if he could dig up no worse insult from his vocabulary to call the Bith whom had stricken him from behind. Mullarus valued honor as much as a jedi would honor mercy. Mullarus was a merciful man, as well, he would not lie about that. Is it hypocritical to strike at the woman when she does not expect it, yet call out the other Acolyte for simply pushing him from behind? Maybe in the eyes of some. In Mullarus' eyes, the woman had every opportunity to be prepared to be lashed upon by him, and since she left her guard down to him and consistently, metaphorically, poked the lion within his soul with a stick.

How could she expect him to not lash out at her?

He would not slay her in cold blood. He would not do such a thing to anyone unless they deserved it in his eyes. This bith, now...

This bith deserves no mercy.

Mullarus unleashed his anger in a maelstrom of lightning, discharging it like a dark cloud in a thunderstorm, though directed toward the bith. Being as untrained and, despite what bit of basic training he received from his grandfather, Lord Jekyll, Mullarus was still ripe and unrefined in the ways of the Dark Side. This outrageous attack Mullarus had pulled on the bith was something he had only ever performed once before, and that was upon releasing all of his anger and sorrow of his parents' 'murder' at the hands of the 'Republic'.

This bith had offended Mullarus' sense of honor. He had triggered an emotional response, and the young man figured this to be the perfect time to unleash his full potential in front of the Sith Lord. Let him see what I have to offer...I am the sword. Temper me.

The storm of lightning soared through the room very briefly. It did not rain down for longer than a few seconds, but the thunder rolled and the lightning flew from Mullarus' angered fingertips in every direction, though aimed specifically at the bith.

Halfway through the attack, Mullarus had begun to fear he may hurt the Sith Lord or the maimed young woman he meant to spare...

Bah...how arrogant of me to think I can harm the Sith Lord with an unrefined attack...

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The Bith smirked, thinking everything was going according to plan. He had struck at the opportune moment. One of his opponents had taken out the other. Subsequently, he had been able to pick him up while the last of the two standing was preoccupied. However, he had been too quick to think this was over. Pyrrhus sensed the burning hatred, reaching boiling point within Mullarus. The power of the Dark Side was about to be unleashed. Was the Bith strong enough to withstand it?

Pyrrhus approved of the way Mullarus struck the woman, similarly as he approved of the way the Bith had lashed out at Mullarus. The woman and Mullarus could not blame their opponent for being hit by them. They could only point the fingers inwards, as they had allowed themselves to be hit. Such was the philosophy of the Togruta knight, one he would pass on to whoever was left standing, soon enough. When it came to honour, Mullarus and Pyrrhus were oceans apart. The Knight gave Mullarus a frown as he hurled his insult. He did not hold honour in the same high esteem as the young acolyte. To him, there was only the Sith Code. Honour was for the dead.

What Mullarus did next, however, he had not seen coming. A mere acolyte, yet here he was, lightning flowing freely from his fingers. Very interesting. The Togruta looked with great interest now. This one had an affinity for the dark. This one had passion, potential. While the lightning was unrefined and weak in comparison to those of true Sith, he was but an apprentice after all, the fact that he managed to produce some impressed Pyrrhus.

The Bith was less pleased to see its arrival. The lightning roamed everywhere, thin tendrils of electricity hitting anything it could find. Accuracy was not on the acolyte's list of skills, but Pyrrhus would make sure that with time, it would be. The majority of it was concentrated towards the Bith however. While he was strong in the Force, against this, he had no defence. The lightning struck him, sending his body into violent spasms, frying his developed brain, before he collapsed on the ground. Was he dead? Little did it matter. He was out of it. Had Pyrrhus bothered to check, however, he would notice that the Bith was still showing faint signs of life. He would awaken again, but what state he'd be in remained to be seen. Mullarus would not be around to see that, however. He was Darth Pyrrhus' new apprentice.

The Togruta Knight clapped, though only three times, as he walked towards Mullarus. There was not a scratch on him. Though he had never really been concerned, he had thrown up a barrier, similar to the one taught to him by a former Zabrak, Lord of the Sith Assassins. The smoke was still rising from the Bith, and the Human's wails could still be heard, though she was quickly slipping out of consciousness due to blood loss.

"You have done well... Apprentice. You will travel with me to the planet of Glee Anselm. Your training begins now." Your real training. The Togruta had much to show him that Coruscant could not offer.

[member=Mullarus]

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Mullarus brought a faint grin to his lips as he turned to his new master. He figured it customary to bow and kneel before his new teacher, one to teach him far beyond that which was bestowed upon him by Lord Jekyll, his decietful grandfather.

Before the young man kneeled, however, he spoke. "I am honored, my Lord. But...if you would allow me one moment...I must see to my destruction."

Mullarus turned and took slow steps toward the woman in pain in the far corner of the dark room. Her cries and wails filled the room with an unsettling aura, but none that were unfamiliar to him. "Fellow acolyte", Mullarus stated to her, "You are beaten, but you are not useless." Mullarus stopped before her, staring down at her with a neutral look on his face as he pointed his blade at her. "Yield to me and we'll find someone to fix your new disability. Defeat is not dishonor, my friend. You can be of some use to me, if not another master who does not mind second chances."

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Pyrrhus didn't speak, but he nodded, and gestured for him to finish this however he saw the need to. He observed the process with great interest. After all, he wanted to know how his apprentice's mind worked, so that he could pick him apart, re-educate him and turn him into a cog for the Sith war machine. Who knows, maybe he was destined for even more.

From behind Mullarus' back, the Sith's eyes formed into a glare. For a moment, he was of a mind to simply slay the girl, snap her neck, as a sort of twisted way to punish his apprentice for his compassion. But then he thought better of it... Was it compassion? Or was it something more sinister?

The girl seemed confused, and in great pain. At one point, she wanted Mullarus to kill her, but then her healthy hand grabbed a hold of his robe, in fear that he would. She didn't want to die after all. Hers was a mix of hatred, and self-contempt. Self-contempt for her defeat, and for the fact that she couldn't keep her eyes from begging for mercy. Speech didn't come easy for her, however, at best she spoke in gurgles of blood.

"Why did you spare her?" It wasn't disapproval this time, merely curiosity. He sought to understand. Mercy was not always wrong, it could be a powerful tool. The Sith were not butchers, in the Togruta's mind. Murder without purpose was a waste of time and energy, and it made the Sith look like degenerates, and not the enlightened order that they were. Yet sometimes, a cold knife severing the tendons of life was needed, and it was not something to shy away from. The weak were beneath them, and they were to blame for their own fates, whatever they may become. The only time their lives mattered was when they could be reshaped and formed into a tool for the Sith.

[member=Mullarus]

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Mullarus took the girl's hand and lifted her to her feet, propping her up against the wall. "Hold what's left of your off-hand. When we leave this place, we will get it sewn up or get a prosthetic. Do not be discouraged."

Then, the young man heard his new master question his actions. He turned around and looked at the togruta, "My lord, the sith way is to destroy anything that has lost it's usefulness. This girl is still an asset to the Sith. After all, there have been sith in the past whom lost much, much more than a single arm and went on to commit the biggest genocide against the Jedi in history. If another master will not take his girl because of her failure, than she can be of use to me as a servant or a partner. The sith are not butchers. We are a society of warriors. That does not make us evil."

He then turned his attention to what remained of the bith, twitching on the ground with every inch of him singed. Mullarus stepped toward him and placed a boot down hard on his chest, "As for you...you would give the sith a bad name. You try to strike down your foes from behind. You lack the mind of a sith. Your arrogance and your cowardice prove that you are not only unfit to be sith...you are unfit to breathe the same air as us."

Mullarus drew his vibrosword from his belt and, wasting not time, impaled the bith through his heart with it. "Become one with the Force, if it even deems you worthy." He removed his weapon from the bith's corpse and sheathed it, going back to the woman and taking her arm, guiding him over to Phyrrus with himself.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Pyrrhus wasn't one for compassion, or mercy, for that matter. Those who begged for mercy were too weak to receive it. However, she didn't beg, and he had a greater image in mind, so the Togruta Knight allowed Mullarus to go on as he pleased. Similarly, when he moved to the Bith and disposed of him, Pyrrhus didn't lift a finger to interfere. Call it a gift, but Mulluarus was permitted to end the Bith's life. He didn't object to him indulging in this act, he felt the Dark Side burn hot within him as he did so. Pyrrhus did, however, object to his reasoning.

"And the Bith had lost his usefulness? Out of your opponents, he was the most competent. Was he not more of an asset to the Sith, than a girl without an arm?" Pyrrhus confronted Mullarus with his own words. She had barely put up a fight. It was clear they had some fundamental philosophical differences. Mullarus would learn.

"Deception and secrecy is one of the tools of the Dark Side. To dishonour that, is to dishonour the lineage of Darth Bane." Pyrrhus said coolly. Did he know of the Sith of old? If not, another area for him to enlighten the boy. "You would do well to expand your horizons on what it means to be Sith." Satisfied for now, it was time the duo moved on.

"Leave the girl. The Overseer will tend to her wounds." Pyrrhus' compassion did not extend to her. She was holding them behind. He would not permit any such delays. The weak keep up pace with the strong, or they are left behind to fend for themselves.

[member=Mullarus]

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Mullarus did not continue to debate with the Lord. He had his reasons, but if he was pushy, he didn't want to anger the togruta and lose his chance at becoming his apprentice.

Mullarus simply nodded as the Overseer approached from the entrance and claimes the girl from him. He then turned to Phyrrhus.

"I am ready"

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Pyrrhus accepted the nod, hiding a smirk. He complied. If he showed defiance, he seemed to have the senses to choose a better time and place. This was good. Though the Knight had a feeling their philosophies would conflict on many a occasion. It didn't make him any less interested in taking him on as his apprentice. He wasn't in the business of making Pyrrhus copies, only strong Sith, loyal to the Dark Lord and the One Sith ideology. Whether they remained true to themselves, or followed his reason, was up to them. Though he would batter hard against any defences put up... It was his job, after all.

"We will see about that" Pyrrhus replied, semi-cryptically. The boy would be tested, but the fact that he was going to be tested, meant he had been approved for training.

He'd ignore any noises the Overseer meant as he stepped into the room, face grimacing from the scent of charred flesh and fresh blood. If he didn't have stomach for this, even less reason for him being in charge of the Coruscant Academy. "Now we leave this place." The Togruta walked out, fully expecting his apprentice to fall in step. After all, it was not Pyrrhus' place to slow down his pace, it was Mullarus' to keep up. Fall behind, get left behind.