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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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Destiny
So I have a new sith named Ahmmut. I like him. I have weird/crazy ideas for him that probably will never happen. But eh. This is a thing.
Never had red sand looked so lovely. From low orbit, Korriban was a jewel, a beckon to the Sith that their days of glory were returning. But as new things came to be, the old things had to pass away. Change was coming, he could sense it. "Are you ready?" Ahmmun turned, looking back at his caretaker, Tahken. The pureblood was aged, his skin weathered and faded with time. He had only the slightest force ability, and had never risen the ranks of the Sith, preferring instead to act as tutor and mentor. Ahmmun had come under his care at a young age and eagerly learned all the elder had to teach him. "I believe I am," Ahmmun said. Tahken smiled and nodded. "Remember what I have taught you. Though they won't acknowledge it, I am your first master. Remember the Sith creed, remember the pride of our race, but know that our blood thins. A new way is on the horizon." Nodding, the young Sith looked back to the planet below. It seemed that their race was destined to be as their homeworld was now, cracking and collapsing under the weight of its own age and decay. "I have forseen a destiny for you, as an agent of this change." Ahmmut's eyes shifted, looking at Tahken's reflection in the window. "You will not achieve the power and prestiege many strive for. Instead, you will be a saber, a weapon to effect change. Your name will strike fear into the hearts and minds of cowards and weaklings, and the blood you spill will be the ink to pen the new age." "Glory is too heavy a shroud for me, anyway," the younger said with a laugh. He turned and placed both hands on Tahken's shoulders. "Thank you, for all you have taught me, everything you've made me into. I won't disappoint you." "You couldn't if you tried." Tahken patted the younger Sith's arm, then gestured. "Now, go. The galaxy awaits."
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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Rent asunder
Regerro and Cel'ena mail some fissions. Warnings for suggested violence. And yes, its kinda spacey.
This had been a terrible miscalculation. Intelligence hadn't said there was anything here, so it should have been a clear path for them to take. But somehow they'd been ambushed and set upon by republic forces. There were at least 20 of them, usually hardly a challenge for the sniper twins. But the ground here was flat and the charges on their shields could only last so long. "Quickly, /quickly/ sister of mine," Regerro urged, holding his rifle close as he slid into a natural trench in the ground. Cel'ena wasn't far behind, positioning her shield to protect her head a moment while they caught their breath. "Such terrible hosts," she panted. "Indeed they are.." Readying a flash grenade, Regerro motioned her to run, then leapt up and threw it at the attaching troopers. He heard their shouts of surprise and cries of pain as they were momentarily blinded. He ran, dirt crunching loudly beneath his boots. All thoughts of stealth were out of their minds, and survival was paramount. "Did you radio ahead?" "This one called the invisibles," Cel'ena answered with a nod. "They're coming quick as a storm." "Not quick enough...Go, I'll cover you." Setting up his shield, Regerro carefully peered up, then shouldered his rifle and fired twice. Two troopers fell dead, a third reeling from the impact of a penetrating shot. He ducked as another hail of blaster fire hit his shield and the ground around him. He raised and fired again, taking a shot in the arm for his trouble. Just a scratch for another of theirs dead. He ducked again and looked over to Cel'ena. She was close to a sheltered dug out, a good place for them to hole up and wait. Then the world seemed to slow down. A streak of red caught his eye, and a glint of metal in the light kept it. A thermo. Maker...It landed and rolled a short distance, just behind Cel'ena. The blast would hit the wall of rock and dirt and come back at her. She'd be dead if she stayed. "Cel'ena!!" He moved with out thinking, running faster than he thought possible to snatch his sister by her arm. He threw her aside, using every ounce of strength he had to get her clear. At the last second, he grabbed his shield pod and flicked it toward her. the red mesh lit,   spinning almost prettily before stopping. The light on the grenade blinked faster, then steady, and then..then he was flying. His body felt light, strangely weightless for an instant..then heavy as lead when he hit the ground. He knew he rolled, knew he was gravely damaged...But Cel'ena was safe. Through the haze of his consciousness, he heard her voice, then the sound of engines and blasters. Cel'ena was beside him, pulling him against her, calling his name over and over. He tried to respond, but blackness closed in around him too quickly. Sleep beckoned, pulling him into blissful oblivion free of the pain wracking what remained of his waking mind. Then it was quiet. And dark.
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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Cool guys don't look at explosions.
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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For Khepri.
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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Darth Maul By: Andy Fairhurst
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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Scarring
-Warnings for blood and...stuff? I dunno. This could hurt. It's not great but eh. Also sorry for some bullshitting on the history front-
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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And now for a useless aside.
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All dolled up, here's my Chiss agent Regerro. He's kinda crazy, but not quite as crazy as his sister.
Or maybe they're sane and /you're/ all crazy.
EDIT:
And here's his lovely sister, Cel'ena!!!!!
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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Breaking Resolve
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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Learning the easy way
So this was an RP with my sister, actually. We were talking and the idea struck me, so it had to happen. I dunno where exactly this fits into everything, but eh.
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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First Lessons
"Everyone, pay attention." The instructor paced up and down the row of acolytes in front of him, each standing at attention with their arms behind them. He looked from each face, male, female, human human human....Alien. He stopped, turning to face the red skinned Zabrak. "All of you have been selected for your power and prowess. Well...Most of you. What's your name, alien? And try to say it in basic, hm?" "Kha'rrun," the Zabrak said, never making eye contact. "Kha'rrun...Hm, I still prefer slave I think." That earned a few looks, and the instructor smirked. "That's right, this is one of the Dark Council's misguided attempts to bolster our numbers. Bringing us this...filth." Kha'rrun's jaw flexed, eyes fixed on a point just over the instructor's head. He was taller than the human, even though his build was slight. He could tell his height intimidated the instructor, so he stood as straight as he could. "You'll be the first to go," the instructor said. "The /weak/ always die first." He balled his fist and punched him hard in the gut. The Zabrak flinched and grunted, lip curling to show his teeth. Another blow followed, this one transferring a blast of force energy into his core. His muscles coiled and he doubled, taking a half step backward. The instructor barked a laugh. "You see? His weakness shows!" The others laughed. Kha'rrun straightened himself again, stretching his fingers and curling them into fists. Lightning arced over his knuckles and wrist, his rage barely contained. The instructor continued his pacing, gesturing as he rambled on about how most of them wouldn't survive, how the weak would be devoured by the strong, so on and so forth. Kha'rrun had long since stopped listening. This prattle might have served well to frighten the other initiates, but he did not scare easily. The life of a slave was no cake walk after all. "How about a demonstration?" he said, turning quickly. "Starting with /you./" He pointed at Kha'rrun, who scoffed and stepped forward. "And you." He pointed at a burly looking youth with black tattoos across his face. Each of them were handed practice blades and they squared off. The human took on some attempt at a sword stance, smirking at Kha'rrun as he did. Kha'rrun stood straight, weapon relaxed at his side, hanging almost loosely from his fingers. "BEGIN!" The human raised his weapon and charged, bellowing like an animal. Kha'rrun shifted his feet and threw his hand forward. The crackle of lightning deafened the others for a split second before the acrid smell of burning flesh made them gag. The human dropped his blade and clutched his hands to his blackened face, screaming in agony. Twirling the blade in his hand, Kha'rrun turned his attention to the instructor. His eyes narrowed, then in a quick motion, he turned and struck the crying student down. "Looks like you were wrong," he said simply. He tossed the blade to the instructor and stepped back in line. The anger pouring off the man was palpable, and Kha'rrun relished it. He knew this wouldn't be the last time he had to prove himself, or the last time he amazed and terrified those who doubted him.
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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Kha'rrun attained the title Lord, and celebrates with a stylish dance.
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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Thinking Aloud
For a former slave, sleeping peacefully was not a common thing. The slightest sounds roused him and left him wide awake for hours. At best, he usually managed cat naps, enough to keep himself going but little more. Lately, though, Kha'rrun found he slept best in one certain place: beside his lord. Why he was awake now was irrelevant. Some dream had awoken him and left his mind racing. So, instead of trying to get back to sleep, Kha'rrun propped himself up on his elbow and watched his master. Deft hands tugged the blanket back, exposing more of Khonsu's pale body to the apprentice's gaze. He replaced its warmth by pressing a little closer, fitting his body close to his master's. Khonsu slept or dozed or whatever it was he did. For all the Zabrak knew, the other man could be awake and just laying there, enjoying himself. It hardly mattered. The end result was the same. Kha'rrun stroked his hand over Khonsu's back, palm and fingers tracing the muscles beneath ash white skin. He slid his fingers along his spine, then over his shoulder to just hold his lover against him. Life was good. Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander, meditating on what everything amounted to now. He was a Sith, apprenticed to a powerful master, who he loved more dearly than anything. His brother was alive and well, even if he was usually out of reach. Every day he came closer to attaining his own true potential. What more could he want? The fiercely strong connection between himself and Khonsu was something of a marvel. Even with his family, he'd never felt anything like this. He could sense Khonsu across vast distances, feel when his mood changed, and know when the other man thought about him. With his brother, it had never gone beyond a dull sense of being, just knowing he was out there even after they'd been reunited. He scoffed at himself to think that one single emotion could be so powerful. But fueled by the passion of a Sith...it made sense. To think the Jedi disavowed something as powerful as Love was a marvel to him. He was never stronger than when he was with Khonsu. When they fought together, Kha'rrun felt the need to protect him, even though he was still scores weaker than his master.  The drive to prevent harm from coming to him and the strength he drew just from being next to him...how could those light side idiots ignore such strength? Khonsu stirred, sighing against Kha'rrun's chest before lifting his head. "Your thoughts are quite loud, Apprentice," he chided. "Forgive me. I did not mean to disturb you." Khonsu shook his head, leaning close to kiss the Zabrak tenderly. Kha'rrun sighed and relaxed, letting the other guide the kiss until their lips parted again. "There is wisdom in your thoughts, my love," Khonsu said. He laid a pale hand over the center of Kha'rrun's chest, where his twinned heartbeats could be felt. "Our bond makes us more powerful than any others can imagine." Clasping his hand, Kha'rrun nodded, leaning up to steal another quick kiss. Khonsu shifted to lay on top of him, their legs twining easily together. "Why don't I give you something else to think about?" Khonsu whispered. Kha'rrun groaned as his mind was hit with a barrage of images, black lips curling into a smirk as he grabbed at his lover's hips. "Yes...I would like that very much."
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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Kha'rrun in his new duds.
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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Listen
My name is Kha'rrun. I am Sith. I was born to be Sith. Listen to my story. When our world was attacked, my family was nothing. Two generations past, we were nothing but colonists, stretching our legs into the further planets of our system. They came with blasters and droids and wiped out half of our homeland in one fell swoop.  They took hostages, clapped them in slave collars, and shipped them off to be sold by the thousands. Nevertheless, we persuvered. We kept our traditions, still marking ourselves with the brands of our home, dreaming of a day when we might return. For many, it was a hopeless dream, a dream without substance. As a child, I remember the looks on the elders faces, how defeated the looked, how worn away...how weak. Part of me hated them. When I came of age, I shaved my hair back, eager for the world to see the crown of horns across my head. My mother smiled and said I was destined for greatness. I don't think she had any idea how right she was. The guards disliked what I had done, and seemed to take pleasure in trying to make me pay for my 'arrogance'. They lashed me, beat me, forced me to attempt impossible tasks. All the while, my hatred grew as my heart blackened. I thought things couldn't get worse. How very wrong I was. I've never been able to understand it, but the humans find our race comely. I find them to be naked and soft, too close to the weaker side of our race which seeks to emulate them, even interbreeding so I've heard. At any rate, we were visited by a senator, who made a show of having two other Zabrak following him, scantily clad and at his beckon call. When he laid eyes on me, he seized a guard and demanded to know what I was worth. 300 credits. They practically gave me away. No sooner was the deal stuck than I was ripped away from my family. My mother cried. My brother tried to fight to get to me. I cursed and spat and tried to fight my way free, but a shock from those collars overpowered even my most stalwart attempts at the time. I was unconscious by the time they dragged me into the ship. When I woke, I was naked on an examination table, medical droids poking and prodding at me from every side. That was the first time I remember realizing that I had power. I tried to thrash free, pull my arm out from the binds over my wrist. And the metal beneath me groaned and creaked. "Now now, pet," the senator said, appearing at the doorway. "That won't do at all." My body seized as he hit the shock collar, and I grit my teeth to keep from screaming. I refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing me protest. He strode around the table, looking at me like a creature appraises a piece of meat. I glared. He touched one of my horns, turning my head to the side as he did. "These won't do," he said. "Remove these." he indicated the horns around the back and sides of my head. Then I let my voice be heard. I shouted, called him every foul name I knew, pulling at the restraints on my arms and legs to violently my skin broke. He produced a rope and looped it around my neck, tying it down to the table. I think he liked the sensation of actually holding me down with it as opposed to the energy restraints.  I arched up against it, determined to be free or strangle myself trying. It was all for nothing, of course. You can't strangle yourself once you've passed out from lack of air. Though I was unconscious for some of it, my mind remembers the searing pain. He had the droids immobilize me so that even when I came to, I couldn't move. They sawed off each horn to the base, then burned the stump, ensuring they would never grow again. When I finally came around fully hours later, I was in a small room, lying on a hard cot. I stood and almost fell, catching myself on a sink protruding from the wall. When I dared raise my head to look at myself, my gut twisted. What had once been a ring of horns was now a semi-circle of blood dark wounds, blackened and sickly looking. All that remained were four very small horns across my forehead, which I shuddered to recall the senator had referred to as "cute". My neck was marked from my struggles, as were my wrists. I hardly minded. They left me to rot in that room for what must have been days. They offered no food or water. I think it was an attempt to break my will, as though it would have been that simple. Still, I knew that I didn't stand a chance if I was weak from hunger. So I played their game. I surrendered, I begged, I degraded myself with pleas that still make me cringe. "It seems you've learned your lesson, pet," the senator said, looking at me from the doorway. "Prove it to me. Come here." He beckoned me closer, and I complied. "On your knees." Again, I acquiesced. "Now...Lick my boots." I will never forget that awful taste, or how it filled me with rage. I realize now that in that moment, I could have ripped him apart molecule by molecule if I had known how to harness that anger. He laughed and stroked my hair, touching the stumps he'd left in place of my horns. He was gloating, and it was making me sick. "Come along," he said. "We should get you outfitted." From there, I joined his personal entourage. Compared to my life before, it was an easy existence. No scorching, arid heat to scald my skin, sand to burn my eyes or back breaking work to do. We followed, we stood, we were seen. We were an expression of his wealth. He had the credits to throw away on making three sentient beings follow him around like lizard-monkeys on strings. My near constant companions were a twi'lek female and a Nautolan male. I never knew their names. Apparently the senator's treatment of them had effectively ripped their identities from them. He had other slaves of course, but the three of us were his favorites. We were expected to carry his things, fetch whatever he sent us after, and most often simply stand there and look pleasing. The Nautolan still had a little fight in him, which I admired to an extent. Still, the fact that he could relinquish so much rage baffles me even now. As for the twi'lek, she was broken, a shadow of a soul. Her eyes were dim and rarely came above chin level with anyone else. It didn't take long for me to learn why. I had been in the senator's service for a month or two when he called his other slaves to take me to wash up. This was nothing new. Cleanliness was just another show of wealth to him, and he often had the other slaves rub oils into our skins to bring out the colour in them (red, blue green, and slate respectively). This time was different. They stripped me, bathed me, and for all intents and purposes, proceeded to violate me in ways I had never imagined. The guards kept close watch as hands touched where they had no business touching, rubbing slick oils into my skin and body. Any protest was met with an almost paralyzing shock, and I was forced to endure all of it without so much as a curse. They brought me to the senator's bed chamber, where the other two favorites waited with the senator himself. They divested me of the loose robe hanging from my shoulders, both muttering that it was best not to resist. It ended faster that way. My skin crawled when he touched me, taking in every inch of my being. He was familiar with my race's anatomy, which disturbed me to consider. How many of my kind had he violated and humiliated like this? He finally laid out on the bed and beckoned me to him. Humans had always repulsed me, as I said before, but this one was especially repugnant. His belly was fleshy and covered in grey and brown hair. His legs and arms lacked any muscle tone and looked as flabby as the rest of him. He looked like an animal, a creature meant to be culled and slain for being fat and lazy. That was the only thought that kept me sane through that first night of humiliation. I killed him in my mind over and over, resisting my body's attempts to respond in any way. After the first time, such violations became almost routine. There was much less preparation, usually just a bath if nothing else. Often I could sense him looking at all three of us, imagining horrid things in that little brain of his while his beady eyes glinted. Now and again, he set us on each other, ordering myself or the Nautolan to take the Twi'lek girl. I suddenly understood why she looked do broken. With such treatment, almost anyone would have broken. During the rare time I had alone, I started prying into the power I had felt before. It started simple, moving small objects around with just the force of my will. I steadily graduated to larger objects, and used that to start playing tricks on the senator. In the middle of the night once, I flung a vase across the room, shattering it almost into powder. The crash woke him and he cried out for his guards. His voice broke and he sounded like a woman. My greatest triumph was learning how to feed the shock of the collar into my own power. I still played along, grimacing and flinching as it sparked. But the electricity played over my skin and sank into my spine, invigorating me. I loved the feeling. It didn't take long for me to realize that I could direct that energy into my own lightning. This was harder to work on, since my stolen moments were fleeting and such things called far too much attention. All I really needed was an opening, and I got it from the first Sith I ever met. She came to visit the senator on official business as an ambassador. I had never felt such a presence in my life, and it was impossible for me to take my eyes off of her. Even as the senator talked about official matters, I knew she was watching me. "My lord? Have you heard a SINGLE thing I've said?" the senator snapped, banging his meaty fist on the table. "Of course, you pompous windbag," she said, glaring at him. "I've found something far more interesting than your useless prattle." She stood and walked around the table to where I stood, looking up at me. I looked right back, jaw set firmly. I refused to act intimidated or to show a hint of fear. I wasn't afraid of her. I was enthralled by her. "What is your name?" she asked. The senator tried to protest, but she raised her hand and curled her fingers in the air. The senator choked and sputtered, clawing at his throat until her hand relaxed. "Kha'rrun," I answered, paying no mind to the glare coming from the senator. "You are Zabrak. Have you always been a slave?" "Only in body." She laughed, almost smirking at me. Apparently she liked my answer. With a wave of her hand, she shut and locked the doors to the room, taking a step backward. "I sense great power in you, Kha'rrun," she said. "Great potential to be something much more than a slave. And I sense rage, a cauldron of hate just waiting to boil over. I can offer you a way out, but first you must complete a task. Succeed, and you may come away from here. Fail...and you shall die. Am I clear?" "As crystal," I sneered. "What is your task?" She nodded to the senator. "Kill him." I leered. "With pleasure." The senator scrambled to his feet, but he was hardly a match for me. I used what ability I had to rip the seat out from under him and throw him on the floor. He grabbed for the collar control, trying to shock me into submission. I rolled my shoulders, then directed the energy into my fingertips. Lightning arced from me to him, making him writhe and shudder. I think I laughed. My power was fed by my hatred for the man, and I realized that the lightning was no longer just a redirection of power but a new strength all my own. I shocked him until he twitched like a fish, shocked him until burns cris-crossed his skin and the smell of burning flesh putrefied the air. Yet he still breathed. So I threw myself on him and clamped my hands around his throat. I knew just where and how to apply pressure to crush his windpipe, so even his disgusting rolls of fat couldn't save him. He clawed at me, trying to push me off. His face was burned beyond being recognizably human anymore, and only one eye stared at me, wide and terrified. I squeezed until that eye went cloudy and rolled. "That's enough," the woman said. "He's dead now. Well done." I nodded, looking at the still and smouldering body on the floor. "But I have one more task. Killing him was easy, he was a hateful man." She nodded to my fellow slaves. "But what of them?" The Nautolan balked, backing away from me. I turned sharply and rushed him, throwing him into the wall. We struggled, and he managed to land a few good hits before I snapped his neck. Turning to the twi'lek, I saw she was crying, though why escaped me. I strode to her, wrapping both hands around her neck. She looked up at me, and for the first time, our eyes met. She smiled, murmuring their word for 'thank you'. Her eyes rolled back as I choked her, and soon her body slumped to the floor, lifeless. "No remorse," the Sith observed, looking between the three bodies. "No hesitation. No mercy." She chuckled, then smiled a wicked smile at me. "You really do have potential. All you need is a little guidance to hone your hatred into a weapon. You have the makings to be one of the greatest Sith the galaxy has ever known." She faced me, looking me up and down. "Are you ready to face the trials to learn the power of the dark side?" My answer came without hesitation. "Yes, my master."
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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Lessons Learned
Of anywhere in the massive palace, this was one of Kha'rrun's favorite places to while away the hours. It appeared that in his time, Khonsu had amassed quite the extensive collection of data, concerning everything from the founding of the Empire to the Sith and Jedi orders to the schisms that tore them apart. Every war, every battle, every person of note, all of them were here, right at the apprentice's fingertips. But today, it was very difficult to enjoy that knowledge. Usually, he craved solitude in these times, just him and the ancient tomes. But today he had to mind the latest addition to their little order. Vlakhelo was a noisy and blusterous pureblood. Everything was beneath him, it seemed. Kha'rrun could sense he was strong, but his force aptitude was lacking, and certainly nothing compared to his own. He had much to learn if he ever wanted to channel the Force through himself. Somehow, the Zabrak felt the acolyte would never get to that level. Which was fine, they could always use another brute force battering ram. "Why am I here again?" Vlakhelo groaned, folding his arms and sneering at the rows of data modules. "Because your master thinks you have a lot to learn," Kha'rrun said, selecting a data file for review. "In that, my Master and I agree?" "Tch, and who are you to have any sway over my training?" "Kha'rrun, apprentice to Darth Khonsu himself." That shut him up. There was a moment of silence between them as Vlakhelo considered the weight of that. Kha'rrun was happy to ignore him, watching a data file play out as a Jedi recounted his final moments after suffering hours of torture. Later he would have to find the file on the techniques used, he'd never seen such remarkable results. "Those marks on your neck.." Kha'rrun set his jaw a moment, then turned to look at the Sith. "What of them.." "They look like they're from a shock collar." "They are." Kha'rrun knew that look in his eye, that disgusting smirk that spread over his lips. He'd seen it far too many times on others. "Then you were-" Kha'rrun threw his hand out in front of him, fingers splayed as lighting arced from him and into the offending Sith. Vlakhelo cried out and went to his knees, only able to raise his head when Kha'rrun relented. "They were right about you," Kha'rrun said lowly. "You do have a lot to learn about humility. Very well, if I am to impart this lesson on you, let us begin." Clasping his hands behind him, the sorcerer paced around the other, waiting for him to adopt a more attentive position. When he tried to stand, Kha'rrun used the weight of his presence to push him back down. "I did not ask you to stand. You will sit, and you will listen." He turned a gloved hand over, reaching out with the Force to grab Vlakhelo by his throat and keep him still. "Now then. There is a pecking order around here, and you will learn to respect that. You will not raise your voice or your hand to me, even though you perceive me to be less than you are." Vlakhelo tried to speak, but Kha'rrun tightened his grip and silenced him. "I am not finished. I feel the need to remind you that you are here under my Master's good graces, and thus I will not kill you." A bold of purple lightning struck the Sith as Kha'rrun released his hold on him. "But that does not mean I will not make you suffer to prove a point. You will learn your place, and you will prosper." With Vlakhelo gasping and coughing on the floor, Kha'rrun turned back to the rows of knowledge around him. once the other's noise stopped, he spoke again. "Now then, your master thinks you need a better understanding of your people and our order as a whole. I am to make sure you do not leave until you've reviewed a few things." He gestured to a shelf, no less than 30 data slots glowing faintly and awaiting review. "You should get started if you ever want to eat again."
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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Meet the Family
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Kha'rrun - Sith Sorcerer, Apprentice to Darth Khonsu
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Ehd'hal - Jedi Shadow, older brother to Kha'rrun
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Vlakhelo - Sith Marauder, Pain in the ass Apprentice to Darth Sokar
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thetepeslegacy · 11 years
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Reunion
Kha'rrun paced across the room for what felt like the 10th time, hands clasped behind him. This whole matter was incredibly convoluted..but it would be worth it. Pausing a moment, he looked up at the high ceiling, sighing. Would he recognize him? Would he know his voice? his face? Shaking his head, he turned sharply and started pacing again. The room echoed with his footsteps, boots tramping heavily on the smooth tile floor. He stopped abruptly when he felt someone approaching. He reached out through the Force, quickly recognizing two of his Master's operatives. The third...was like touching a wall made of the Force itself. The presence moved, reacting to his touch. Golden eyes cut to the doors as they opened. The operatives bowed deeply, backing away as Kha'rrun dismissed them with a flick of his hand. "I am tired of this cloak and dagger nonsense." That voice...Older, certainly. Wiser, most definitely. Chuckling lowly, Kha'rrun glanced over his shoulder. His chest tightened to see the man standing there. Tall, broad chested, red skinned, and wearing a proud crown of horns around the crest of his skull. He looked ready to speak again, but paused, closing his mouth slowly. "Tell me," Kha'rrun said, eyes drifting upward. "...What do they mean?" "What.." "The stars." Kha'rrun turned slowly, facing the other Zabrak. He stepped down from the dais, both hands moving to push his hood back. "What do they mean?" For a moment they were silent, then the elder chuckled. "They mean there's hope," he said. "They mean there's other words without collars and mines." "They mean one day, we'll be free," Kha'rrun finished for him. The two embraced, Kha'rrun pressing his lean frame against the other's until hardly any space remained between them. "Maker...I thought..." "I know," Kha'rrun said, shaking his head. He leaned back and looked up at him, touching his face lightly. "Ehd'hal...I can't believe...when my Master said that his men had found you.." Ehd'hal smiled, brushing his brother's tears away gently. "You've grown so big," he said with a quiet laugh. "Almost feels like you're too big to pick on." "Hardly," Kha'rrun said, pushing his brother back with a sharp laugh. He looked him up and down, his smile fading. "...My master tells me you're a Jedi." "In name only," he said. "I..Honestly, I take issue with their inaction. They call for peace, they call for an end to the fighting. But their ideas are so backward. They think it's possible for there to actually BE an end to war. And yet they do /nothing/ to effect change. They just-" "Sit around in their ivory towers, looking down on everyone else and sending new apprentices on errands in hopes that they don't realize how corroded and weak the highest levels have become." Ehd'hal gaped at his brother. A look of concern crossed his face as he nodded. The younger brother chuckled lowly. "That is true for the senate and the council, both dark and jedi," he explained. "They would rather bark orders and maintain the status quo." "Yes..I suppose that's true." "You already understand part of our creed, brother." Kha'rrun stepped closer, pressing a hand to his brother's chest. "I feel the power of the dark side in you. I see it in your eyes...You already know that Peace is a Lie." "Peace is..What?" "You'll learn, in time. For now..We have a lot of catching up to do."
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