Star Wars: Slave Of Darkness

As my sluggish brain finally processed what I was seeing, I very nearly reached for my lightsaber.

Or rather, I tried to, only to find that my right arm had chosen this moment to stop working. Both of my arms, one broken and the other fried to a crisp, hung loosely at my sides. The only thing I had to show for the effort was a few twitches from my burned fingers.

Well this was awkward. My legs still worked, but I didn't think highly of my chances trying to kick a Sith to death.

If the Sith Lord was insulted or angry, he didn't show it. If anything, he seemed amused that my kneejerk reaction to seeing him was to go for a weapon.

Unable to fight, I decided to use my only available weapon. My words.

"Darth Mindfuck, I presume."

A slip of the tongue due to exhaustion caused me to say a portion of what I really thought about him.

"How crude." "Darth Mindfuck" said slowly, raising a hairless brow, "From your records and my observations, you are typically more polite in your speech. 

However, I will attribute it to exhaustion and allow it to pass in favor of more…pertinent matters. Provided it does not happen again. Now please." He gestured to the chair again, "Sit."

I nodded wordlessly, my face forced into a calm neutral as I seated myself.

He didn't say anything more as he looked me in the eyes, red eyes unblinking.

I immediately focused on my mental defenses just as a sharp pain lanced through my head. Suddenly, I was seeing the door behind me, upside down. I grimaced at both the pain and the disorientation but kept myself from flinching, though I didn't need to bother as my helmet hid my expression anyways.

"An…interesting defense." He commented lightly after a moment as he allowed my perceptions to return to normal and went on to examine the rest of it.

"Your memories, perceptions, and emotions are so scattered around your mindscape that it is difficult to affect more than a handful before you notice that something is wrong."

Through the mental connection, I could feel that he was…Well, he wasn't impressed, per se. It was more like he was examining a moderately interesting bug, poking and prodding to see what made it tick to satisfy his curiosity.

As I expected, he had completely bypassed the distraction construct and headed straight for the "stars." In between the moments of death-defying stunts, I'd given some thought to what I'd do if I ever met this Sith again, but I didn't think I'd need to put them into practice this soon.

"Ah, I see its functions now. You created it as a double-layered defense against the Leviathan's psychic screams. If they could not find your perceptions, they could not induce pain and disrupt your concentration. While they scratched at the empty construct, your actual mind was safe from their rather crude abilities."

I had a few choice words to describe his own methods, but I bit my tongue. Given the smirk that stretched the scars around his mouth, he knew my thoughts on the matter regardless.

"It is a passable defense. I daresay that it would protect you against most casual attempts to subvert your mind." He finally admitted, though it sounded less like a compliment and more like placating gesture. 

That feeling was reinforced by what he said afterwards, "But only that. A master of the mental arts would tear it to pieces once they understood what they were up against."

"It would still leave a split-second to act."

"Hmm?" The Sith hummed questioningly.

"While those masters are busy analyzing my mental constructs, that's a moment they're not devoting all their energy to defending themselves." I elaborated, "And splitting their attention between their offense and their defense."

He leaned back, his amused smile widening as the chair creaked lightly beneath his weight, "Predictable and flawed reasoning. Sith and Jedi train most of their lives to resist mental intrusions, to the point that such defenses are nearly an instinct. Even with their attention divided, the defenses of a Master would easily overwhelm you."

"It is predictable," I agreed, a smile of my own gracing my lips, "The master has already established themselves that they have complete control. That the only reason they devoted any energy to defense at all is out of ingrained habit."

The Sith's expression turned into a challenging smirk, "Do go on. I believe I wish to hear the rest of it."

"There is a certain arrogance that comes with mastery. Not intentionally, of course." I continued speaking, "That whisper in the back of their minds that tells them that only another master could truly compete on their level. That the foe before them is nothing and that they have all the time in the world to toy with their prey."

As I emphasized the word "whisper", his expression didn't change, but I could feel that there was a mental pause through the connection. Absolutely nothing else leaked through to me.

"That is an interesting theory." He said simply, his tone dipping slightly, "Is it one you wish to test, then?"

"Right this moment? After five days of fighting with minimal rest and multiple injuries?" I asked rhetorically, "Not particularly. My lord."

It was then I saw it: An unconscious twitch at the left corner of his mouth. It was a movement so small that I very nearly missed it.

That's right, you son of a bitch. I just bluffed you to your face and you believed me, if only for a moment.

And I did it without telling a single lie. If I had trained in the mental arts, that would be how I would operate against a superior opponent. Trick them into thinking they had won and then sucker punch them when they thought I had nothing to use against them.

I held no illusions that if he wanted me dead this very instant, he could do it without even standing up. The only things keeping me conscious were spite, Force enhancement to hold myself together, and multiple layers of Crucitorn holding back the no doubt excruciating pain of my many injuries.

An unexpected sound filled the silent air. It started low and at the back of his throat, muffed by his closed mouth.

He had started laughing.

"If I did not have an inkling earlier, I do now." His smile stretched his scars further, creating a nauseating sight, "This is why you will survive where the others will not."

I stayed quiet as his allowed his mirth to spill forth.

"You and your fellows were nothing to me. The wretches that Iren sought to make into Sith." He admitted freely and scoffed, "The gall of it. Aliens, slaves, and Jedi as Sith? Had we stooped so low as to resort to that?"

I registered the Jedi comment for later. It seemed I would need to do an unauthorized search of Iren's files when I got back to get a more complete picture.

"You had already passed your First Trial by the time I became aware of your existences, so I was unable to simply block your acceptance into the academy." He continued without pause, "I had intended to arrange it so that all of you would perish in the Trials. The plan had barely begun before something changed."

"And that was…?" I asked, not being rude but also not really caring about propriety at the moment.

"Why, you, of course." The Sith replied simply, "The first of my intended victims."

Why was I not surprised?

"Castor's revolt? That was your doing?" I guessed.

"Not entirely." He corrected, "It was going to occur regardless of my interference. I merely forced it to come to the fore early, before he was truly prepared and had become an actual threat. 

Still, it should have been a task far beyond an acolyte with a mere few weeks of self-training and alchemical tutelage. When you failed, a team of Assassins would have been sent to kill him."

"And then I survived." I muttered.

"And then you survived." He agreed with a nod, "And not only that, you smashed the army he had been building in the tombs. You crushed Castor. Tore him limb from limb."

I grimaced at the reminder of the other acolyte's bloody death, "How do you know about…?"

"Your probe droids contained a record of the battle and you had not encrypted them at that time. It was a simple matter to retrieve the data while they were unattended."

"Unattended" meaning that I might have been in the room at the time and he simply wiped my memory of the encounter.

"And then only a few weeks afterwards…you murdered a Sith Lord."

I almost wanted to correct him, but at this point…he knew. There wasn't any use in denying it.

"Lord Renning was far from the strongest Sith Lord, but he had earned that title nevertheless. That did not stop you." He paused.

"And then, my curiosity was piqued. I began to wonder how far you could be pushed…and how far that would force you to reach to survive. I decided to leave the rest to Iren's trials and focus on yours."

"Seeing as I'm still here, I passed whatever tests you threw at me."

"That you did," The Sith Lord agreed, "In doing so, you demonstrated a rather remarkable talent for finding methods to kill beings that should be well beyond your station. 

Because of that, I have deemed you, and you alone, to be worth salvaging from that…pool of inequity that Iren has gathered at his Master's command. 

You may have once been a slave, but you are neither an alien nor tainted by Jedi teachings." He tilted his head to the left slightly, examining me a bit more.

"…No, I don't believe even those chains truly held you, no matter what the scars on your face say."

I should be angry at this man for all the apparent assassination attempts, the days of paranoia-fueled panic. But in the world of the Sith, that was normal. Right now, I couldn't even muster the slightest bit of rage, whether from acceptance or from exhaustion.

"So what now? Am I your apprentice?"

It felt so simple, saying that. In another time period in Star Wars, when there were only two Sith, that phrase would have meant so much more. But here, it would just mean I became yet another cog in the Imperial war machine.

The Scarred Sith slowly shook his head, "No…not quite yet."

"Not yet?" I asked incredulously, "I just killed a Leviathan for you!"

"Yes," He replied simply, "That act demonstrated your power, whether it be your strength in the Force or your cunning. I know now that you have the potential to be a particularly potent weapon, if handled correctly. What remains to be seen is if you can be wielded and follow my orders."

I slumped in my chair and allowed my arms to dangle, "So what now?"

"Now, you will be returned to Korriban for one last trial. Not only is participation in the fourth trial required by tradition, there are loose ends to tie up in the academy. 

I will not suffer aliens and Jedi among the ranks of the Sith." The older man clasped his hands before him on the desk, "Your task is thus: You are to kill the other acolytes of your group." Red eyes met my yellow ones, "All of them."

Including Gaarurra.

"And I will require proof of their deaths. Their hearts will do."

I nodded numbly, "Yes…my lord."

His smile widened, showing impossibly white teeth that contrasted sharply with his ashen skin, "Excellent. Now, it will take a few hours to return to Korriban. 

I suggest you take advantage of the medbay's bacta tanks before we arrive. It would not do to see the "conquering hero" return battered and broken, now would it? It would give the wrong impression."

As I mechanically stood up and walked to the door, his voice followed me.

"You will require all your strength to defeat two Jedi, after all."

I was nearly to the medbay when I realized that I had never asked for his name.

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The first book of this fanfic has been completed on Patreon, you can look it up in the collection alongside the second book. You can visit Patreon if you want to read in Advance.

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