SithLore

“Think of a wish. Now imagine the granting of the wish has unexpected consequences for your character. “

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The Shadows were thriving, a council was formed, and Dathomir still existed. This was her wish. The galaxy was a different with the Shadows thriving, wars were few and life survived. Death ruled above the shadow council, Xavius was a master of the council, in full control of his emotions. Life was good, however with lack of need she was only a level seven master.
With this content a new threat rose, Krynn Karn and she was powerful. Xavius showed her a file on what she could do. Her rise had caused a series of problems, Jedi were dying at her hands, causing a serious shift of balance. Ben had gone to try to deal with her, he was her closest friend. Death held the great Jedi in such high regard, they had grown up together on opposite ends of the force academy.
A shadow approached Xavius and handed him another file, then whispered to him. Xavius was sad, he approached her. "I'm sorry." He said as he handed her the file. She looked at and started to cry hard as the file fell from her hands a picture of Ben fell from it. He was killed by the elven year old child, Krynn Karn. There was nothing she could do to change it, perhaps if she had continued her training. Now it was to late, her beloved friend was gone and nothing she could do could change that.

She shouldn’t have tempted fate.

Kressara Thryn lay on her back looking up at the balcony she’d just fallen from, chaotic blaster fire echoing from within as the occasional stray bolt screamed into the night sky.

She should have just kept her mouth shut and finished her drink, taken her winnings, and left before things got ugly.

Windows quaked and then shattered with the detonation of a grenade and glass rained over the dazed apprentice. She flinched, but remained almost entirely unmoved in her shame. Drunken battle cries, alien shrieking, and flashes of red light filled the now empty street. Kressara blinked, forcing her mind to catch up with current events before the blackening edges of her vision overcame her completely. She was sitting at the bar when a rather saucy Twi’lek approached her. The blue skinned man invited her to join his employer for a game of chance and Kressara, ever a sucker for the thrill of gambling, couldn’t refuse. They retired from the bar to a private room where a bonafide Hutt was running some very illegal games and challenging anyone with enough green on their ears to try their luck. Thankfully her looks were always rather deceiving. Soon the young sith was clearing house, racking up creds, and turning heads! After the fifth game that played out in her favor the Hutt crime lord was beginning to grow agitated.

“You might want to slow down, girl.” Whispered the Twi’lek, but gin was just one of those drinks. Kressara ignored her better judgement almost as hard as she ignored her new pal’s warnings.

“I’ll take you on again, Dahlban! Best out of six? If you win this time then you can take back everything you lost so far!” Kressara raised her glass to the Hutt who’s bulbous eyes narrowed in her direction before addressing his right hand man in a guttural, foreign tongue. Her Twi’lek friend grew pale, nudging the drunken sith urgently before whispering, “Throw the game if you value your life!”

She should have listened.

“Believe me, he’s nothing.” She whispered back and made the first move. Already she had the advantage and a few of the armed guards reached for their blasters. Scooting slightly away from her, the nervous Twi’lek warned, “He’ll murder you, girl!”

A carefree smirk creased her cheek. “Relax. If he wants a fight, I’ll give him a fight.”

She really should have listened.

The Hutt was not liking the odds of the game and announced something to the room in his native tongue. Kressara questioned, “What did he say?” to which the azule Twi’lek scooted even further from her.

“He said he’ll personally beat you bloody and throw you from the balcony to your death!”

Thoroughly annoyed at the lack of grace a Hutt on the losing side possessed, Kressara stood from her seat and boldly declared,

“I wish he would!”

“Ray! Wake up, “Ray!!” Ray opened his eyes, above him, a familiar face stared back at him. “Token?” asked Ray. The air around him cold as he sat up. “Wait weren’t we at a bar?” Ray asked. Token Fodder stood before him shaking his head. “Yeah, those Falleen drugged us and left us here,” said Token. “Fleek its cold,” said Raymond as he stood. “Are we in a forest,” Ray asked looking around seeing nothing but tall trees. Ray picked up sticks and piled them on each other and lit a fire. “That’s better,” said Ray as the heat began to warm his hands. Token joined him beside the fire nervously looking around. “Man this is odd, I do not remember anything,” said Token Ray nodded an affirmation and was about to speak when the fire began to crackle violently and smoke poured from the blaze filling the clearing they had awoken in. As the smoke cleared a shape began to form within the smoke.

“Who awakens the genie of the campfire!” said a booming voice. Ray looked at the odd figure then stepped back a bit. “Um, the what?” asked Ray as he took a few more steps back and picked up a stick. “I am the Genie of the Campfire and you have freed me of this log” said the figure pointing down at the log now burning on the fire. Ray took a few more steps back and pointed the stick at the figure. “He did,” Ray said pointing at Token who was looking at the Genie in awe. The genie looked onto Token and smiled “I shall grant you one wish” said the genie. Token nodded still apparently in shock and spoke “ I want to be loved and held” said Fodder. Someone to hold me and love me is all that I want mister genie.” said Token Fodder. The genie nodded in understanding and considered the man’s wish.

“Token, be careful man, this thing is creepy. I mean his bottom half is smoke and his top half looks like a Hutt and Devaronian had a baby together.” Said Ray. Token looked back at Ray and smiled. “It is ok Ray I need this,” said Token as he turned back to the space magic demon. The Genie looked at Ray then back at Token “Very well, you will be held and loved. The genie said something in an unknown language and smiled. Token smiled with elation as his wish was granted. A moment later Token was gone and a table appeared before Ray with a sandwich sitting on it.

I know it was you who freed me and I knew your secret wish was for food because you were hungry” said the Genie. “Your welcome the genie said nodding for ray to take the sandwich.
Ray picked up the sandwich and held it in his hands. He took a bite of the sandwich and looked up at the Genie. “This is a good sandwich I love it”

Pf’llamr Mharro’s heavy metal boots rang through the corridor as he ran harder than he’d ever ran before in his short life. He was 17 now, but old enough to hold a gun, and bigger than most fully matured humanoids. The rhythmic thundering behind him, was apathetic to this quality.

The Nautolan just needed time to reload his rifle. It was jammed, and the giant enormity in pursuit wasn’t slowing down. He didn’t have the focus to clear it. While the heavy armor was servo assisted, it didn’t make it any less cumbersome when Pf’llamr needed to navigate obstacles in his path.

His squad leader, Caven Gandoren, began to speak into his helmet.

“Having fun yet?” the voice scratched into Pf’llamr’s head, with annoyance. “I bet they don’t have lizards like that on your planet.”

Pf’llamr was unfortunately quicker witted than he was at reloading his rifle.

“Wish we did, sir. They make wonderful pets. I’m walking this one now!” Pf’llamr retorted, leaving the last reply dripping in rancor.

Caven, to no surprise, was not amused.

“You’re 15 seconds from the docking bay. Find cover. Don’t get caught in the fire.”

With that, the transmission closed, leaving no room for acknowledgement, or even a copy from Pf’llamr. Caven was angry, but correct. The star field covered by a blue shimmering translucent light filled his vision, as well as a menagerie of blaster cannons and munitions manned by others in armor like his. He hid behind a battery, quickly chambering the jammed round, reloading, and getting into position.

The thundering came to a crescendo, followed by a cry that almost made even the most stalwart mercenary run. The krayt dragon finally appeared.

A voice different from Caven, but familiar to Pf’llamr, echoed in every helmet.

“Begin harvest,” the lieutenant commanded.

The assault only lasted for 10 seconds, but to Pf’llamr, it felt like an hour. The firepower was enough to activate the ‘shade’ function in every helmet, taking seconds to readapt afterward. The lieutenant, himself, walked over to inspect the target. The krayt dragon was perforated almost beyond recognition. Caven walked over to the platoon leader.

“Lieutenant Mharro, they were my men, I should-” he began.

The lieutenant had raised his hand to signal him to stop. The room was quiet. The only sound that could be heard was the unsheathing his wrist blade made on the other hand.

The lieutenant began to dig into the stomach of the krayt dragon. Pf’llamr’s spirit sunk for every piece of corpse or armor that was recovered. When the lieutenant emerged from the stomach himself, his own armor had been tremendously damaged, his exposed tendrils singed from the acidity of the humors. He walked back to his escort, holding a handful of krayt pearls. Not once during the ordeal did the lieutenant look at his son, Pf’llamr.

Pf’llamr stood, devastated. To end his humiliating misadventure, Caven brushed past, whispering bitterly:

“They say when you wish for great treasure, a great dragon always guards it.”

The Force afforded him a vision…

Warvanus stood at the entrance to a vast library larger than the Jedi Archives during the days of the Republic, Riviling and surpassing that of the library of Darth Plageuis, this library contained every piece of information relative to the nature of the Darkside, the long forgotten secrets of the Sith. Every bit of information he had ever lusted for.

Knowledge is Power

For the first time in his entire life Warvanus was giddy. The smile on his face going from ear to ear and for the first time in a long time it was not at the expense of another being. The heartful joyful laugh that left his lips reverberated through the place. This oval shaped hall was everything he had ever wanted. The Universe and its mysteries were before him all he had to do was learn the knowledge that laid within. He also felt invincible nobody could stop him, nobody could challenge his knowledge in the darkside. This place was sacred to the War-Bringer. He felt complete, that sense of wholeness, like when one falls in love and marries that person. Two halves of a whole, This treasury of knowledge was Warvanus’

He walked the aisles lovingly tracing his bare fingers on the tomes that were no doubt over four millenia old. He did this slowly, tenderly as if he was in love. Every piece of knowledge he touched he had savored. His euphoria would be interrupted at the end of the hall he saw a figure. Formless, no features. This was his temple, his mecca. Nobody was permitted unless he said so.

“Leave or die” he yelled at the figure. The figure stood there, he wasted no time to pursue this intruder, no sooner had he walked five steps the figure vanished. Warvanus encountered this in every aisle he walked with each apparition the realization rose within him.

Warvanus realized that the knowledge that it contained was his life long wish coming true put a large target on the War-Bringer, as other devotees of the Darkside would want it for their own. Much like if he became the Dark Lord himself, he would have more enemies now. He would not, he could not allow it. To take the knowledge was to violate the sanctity of this place. He also realized that to stop it would be fool-hearty. The realization only made his resolve stronger. He would not share this place unwillingly.

As sudden as it came, the vision disappeared. He was no longer in the library, It was nowhere to be seen. The realization that it was just a vision, filled Warvanus with what could be described as feeling unsettled, and deep sadness, the kind that comes when your heart’s desires are denied to you. The Darkside knew him, it had whispered to him, revealing the one thing that he wanted more than anything. More than to be the most feared Sith Warrior in the galaxy.

He was cornered. Five Sith acolytes descended upon him as he was walking home to see his father one last time before he went to the Jedi temple again. Adar had only a blaster to defend himself, and that was useless against 5 trained Sith. But killing Adar was not their only objective. They needed to break him. Break his mind and body, then and only then end his life. And thus, life a cat toying with her captive mouse, they hurled insults and kicks towards Adar.

"I wish I was stronger"

The phrase escaped his lips. He was too tired to think quietly and so he had vocalized his thoughts and desires. The Sith smiled as they saw a way to break him for good.

"If only you were on the dark side. Then you would be strong enough. But you chose to be weak." said one of them.
"The Jedi, the light side, they are weak. We are the proof of the strength of the dark side." said another.

It was then than Adar had a realization. His survival instincts took the lead, as he saw an opportunity to live another day. The only way to get out of this situation was to do just that. Use the dark. How bad could it be? Just for a moment, so he could scatter the Sith. This is just a means to an end. I go in, and then back out to the light. No one would know. These were his thoughts, and they were too powerful to ignore right now. He had to survive in order to fight another day. So what if he used the dark side to ensure his light and potential is not snuffed out?

"Oh, I'll show you dark." he said, and focused on all his emotions. Anger, fear, pain, hatred.

The Sith all started laughing, and one came face to face with Adar as he concentrated. He was then promptly caught off guard as Adar took his lightsaber and ignited it, piercing his chest. The others were alarmed at the sight, and draw their blades out. One by one they fell at Adar's feet, their lives lost. Adar let out a sigh, but no matter what he couldn't relax. He muscles were tense, his heart beating and he felt... happy to end their lives. Yeah, that wasn't he original plan, but who cares, they were evil, right? But even at that, he was not satisfied with them. "I need more power. So nothing like this will happen. I must grow stronger", he thought out loud.

Sirens begun to echo. The police had arrived. Civilians had gathered on the sideline, his father amongst them.

"Freeze,you are under arrest!" yelled the leading police officer.

"And you will be under the ground soon."

He slaughtered every single one of them. After all,they were no match for him.And after that, he turned towards the crowd.
His iris had turned bright yellow, his hatred in plain view.

A large Dashade sat in a meditative position in the middle of the training room aboard Kota Station. The alien was hurting though not physically, he had received word of yet another victory by the Sith. It was hard on him as a member of the Antarian Rangers it was part of his duty to protect the innocent from the threat known as the Sith.

“I wish I could face the Sith before they conquered anyone else,” he muttered quietly as he meditated.

Varn felt a momentary out of body sensation wash over him and he quickly opened his eyes. He was no longer on Kota station, instead he seemed to be on the bridge of some sort of war vessel. As his vision focused he realized it was of Sith make and a tall dark robed figure stood staring out the viewport at a beautiful green and blue world. The dark lord was getting ready to invade and this was Varn’s chance to stop them from sending their forces planet side. The Dashade rose and charged the unknown enemy. He belted out a roar as he slammed into the figure and shoved him into the duraglass viewport.

Yellow stained eyes turned to face Varn, scowling at the pesky alien. Sith troopers were rushing in to assist this dark lord and Varn needed to act fast if he was going to stop the invasion. He reached down, pulled his blaster and released a volley of bolts into the viewport causing its already weakened state to shatter sending both the Sith and the Ranger out into space. Varn let himself relax as he floated to his death feeling that he had saved a people but his eyes widened as the Sith vessel just began to rain green laser fire down upon the defenseless world. They had decided to punish the world for Varns attempt to stop them.

Varn woke from his meditation with a heavy gasp, his eyes flying open. Once again he was back in the training hall but now a Jedi stood before him.

“We can’t always save everyone, sometime we must allow our enemies to win so that we can save more lives in the long run.” The jedi spoke, and it became clear to Varn that he’d probably given him that vision after hearing the Dashade’s muttered wish.

“Bow to your classmates. Now bow to your instructor. Class dismissed.”

The students, juveniles from a wide swath of species, fell into an aimless rabble as they sought out their parents, went to the bathroom, or otherwise left the small dojo. The energy they displayed left a wide smile on Zasabi’s weathered face. He had been teaching on Dantooine for a little less than a decade but in that time he had developed quite the loyal following in the small town he called home.

Zasabi followed his usual pattern, moving with a slight limp as he drifted from parent to parent, offering appreciative comments on their children’s progress. The injury was three years old now, the result of stepping in to protect a student from some off-world thug with a vibroblade. He had disarmed the man, but not without taking a nasty stab to the thigh that nicked his pelvic bone. Normally it wouldn’t be difficult to shoot a bacta infusion and regrow the lost tissue and even bone, but with the constant state of war between the Empire and the New Republic, bacta had become an impossibly rare commodity. The best he could afford on his wife and his moderate salaries on such a backwater world had healed the tissue damage but left him with nerve and skeletal damage that couldn’t be healed.

He didn’t regret it, though. He had lived so much of his early life moving from world to world, never making landfall for longer than a week. He only understood why once he had become an adult- his parents were Jedi. Even after leaving the order, they remained hunted by the Empire, facing close call after close call. Only once the Empire had been put on the back foot by the then Rebel Alliance had it been safe enough for them to settle down. They had chosen Dantooine, a planet far enough away from everything else in the galaxy to be reasonably safe.

Surprisingly, they were right. Zasabi grew up safe, absent the Force gifts his parents and brother had but still reasonably content. He had grown to value the small rural planet, going on to teach the martial arts his father had taught him. He’d found love, started a family, and lived a respectable life far from the strife and chaos of the wars that plagued the stars.

He sometimes wondered what kind of a man he would’ve turned into had things turned out differently. He knew that his brother had gone gallivanting across the galaxy, using his Jedi skills to… do whatever Jedi did. Had his parents not been around to raise him, would he be doing the same? Or would he have become the thug he had disarmed three years ago?

All it took to dissuade him was the sight of his family on the horizon. Let there be a galaxy of adventure and riches- for him, his galaxy only needed to be as large as the town he called home.

(Word Count- 498)

She was there.

Standing before Prazutis, in the middle of a hallway of the Inquisitorious headquarters...

How? He had killed her himself... he watched the life drain from her eyes... and no matter how much he regretted his actions... she now stood before him...

Dressed in the same Galactic Alliance agent uniform, the same brown hair, pulled back into a bun...

"Aaida...?"

As he stood, frozen, at the woman before him, so many emotions rushed through his spirit. The armor he was encased in felt hot... but with his current state, he wasn't sure how that was possible, either.

"Neive..."

As she stepped closer to him, very slowly, he noticed finally that he couldn't move. Something within Prazutis wouldn't let him, no matter how much he wanted to draw his lightsaber, expose what had to be a hoax against him, most likely by the other High Inquisitors within the facility.

However, he did no such thing as Aaida stood just before him, slowly raising a hand to his helmet, resting it on the metal jaw of the armor.

"What have you done to yourself?"

Prautis could see the pain in her eyes, she was barely holding back tears. She was distressed... but not about his actions against her and Delta squad... but to himself. To the cause he had helped, and to the order that he was once a part of.

"I was lost... and when I found myself, I was too late... I have nothing left to fight for."

Aaida just looked at him, shaking her head a bit as tears finally filled her eyes, a single one falling to her cheek...

"You still have Ben... you have the Jedi..." She said. Despite his actions against them, against master Kenobi, against the coalition... he's killed 3 Jedi at least, and a number of Galactic Alliance soldiers.

"They would never see me as anything more than a monster-"

"And the Empire only sees you as a weapon!" Aaida quickly replied.

Right she was, he thought... the Empire never saw Neive Undant. They only saw the power he held, they only saw Prazutis... and their sight set on that power, he wanted to show them more and more...

until it consumed him.

"The Jedi... they would never forgive me for what I've done..."

"They can... Ben can... you just have to ask for him to."

The man behind the helmet thought for a moment. Perhaps it could be possible?

However, before this thought could continue on, the man looked to Aaida as her hand dropped from his helmet, her body soon falling to the floor to a sitting position as well. Going down to one knee, the force user nearly panicked, unsure of what was happening.

"Neive... find Ben. He can help you..."

As he looked down, he noticed the cracks, the green smoke emitting from Aaida's lower legs. Sith Sorcery...?

Aaida pulled the Zabrak towards her, putting her arms around the cold metal armor that held his spirit once more as the cracks and smoke continued up her legs and throughout her body. Just as he had suspected... his wish for her to return had been granted, but the consequences were temporary... the pain, the anguish that he felt for losing her the first time after the deed was done... they had all come back two fold.

Neive stood, realizing now what Aaida wanted him to do... but first, he also knew what he wanted to do before he left. He could not attone for the sins he committed, the people he had killed... but he could at least set the bar even.

Neive made his way through the headquarters of the inquisitorious, unobstructed by trooper and lower inquisitor alike. Soon enough, he reached the chamber of the Grand Inquisitor. Inside, he saw Brutus, the man who he had long compared himself to more than any other living imperial. However, today was not about rivalry, about getting ahead in imperial ranks. Today was simply Neive doing what Prazutis did not. Doing what was right.

"Grand Inquisitor..."

Brutus turned to Neive, his eyes narrowing, no doubt feeling the winds of change within Neive's presence...

Without another word from either of them, Prazutis drew his lightsaber, the red blade contrasting with the black glass of his helmet's eye frames. His stance returning from the offensive single handed stance of Prazutis, back to his double handed standard stance that Neive was always used to. In this moment, even Brutus could see... Prazutis was gone, and Neive had returned. Perhaps, in Brutus' mind, it was a good thing for darkness like that to be diminished. But it wouldn't stop the man before him from destroying him.

Then, once the deed was done... Neive would find his way back to Kota Station. Back to Ben... so he could finally find the peace that Prazutis had hidden from him for so long.