Star Wars: Slave Of Darkness

Machinery beeped around me as I lay on a bed in the medical bay. However, I wasn't here because I was injured, though the additional bacta treatments were helping my arm heal faster.

Sith Alchemy was a dangerous field on the best of days, no matter how many precautions one took beforehand. On Corbos, I had nothing but my own intuition guiding me.

It was finally time to face the music and find out just what I had done to myself.

It had taken some arm-twisting to get the staff to cooperate, but I was soon hooked up to a dizzying array of machinery that was scanning every inch of me. The heart monitor in particular was especially irritating.

As the tests were running, there was little else to do but wait. Technology could only speed up the process so far. Instead, I occupied my time by laying back and closing my eyes, my thoughts turning to other matters.

My plans, if you could call them that, were falling into place well enough.

Kalista was dead and no one was the wiser. For all anyone could tell, she had simply disappeared. I had established my alibi and led away the only possible witness in a single move.

Of the remaining five acolytes, one was an ally whose loyalty I had secured long ago and another was already moving as I desired her to. My spy drones had picked up several arguments between the twins so far, slowly gaining more and more heat as time passed and doubts built up in Ianna's unstable mind.

I frowned slightly.

Despite my success so far, there were still several irritatingly unpredictable elements that I had to take into account going forward.

Finding out about Caleb's relationship with Kalista had been a nasty shock and it was only good fortune that his role in my plot hadn't conflicted with it. Depending on how close the relationship had been, I would have to step around him carefully in the future. I had enough enemies as it was at the moment.

Caleb was dangerous. He wouldn't just come up and challenge me to my face. That was for when he wanted a good fight. To have fun. Not for when he was angry. He wasn't a "proper" Sith like Tyrene was.

He was more like me. Revenge from Caleb would be a sap to the back of the head in a dark corridor and a knife in the kidneys.

So far, it didn't seem that he was suspicious of me in the slightest. But it was only paranoia when there weren't countless unseen enemies out to get you. Given his track record, I could easily see Darth Rictus interfering in some manner when it was least convenient.

And speaking of inconvenient interference, there was also the matter of Olia. There was no telling when or if she would return to the academy. Her showing up at the wrong time could turn the odds against me sharply.

Not that I had a plan to deal with either Jedi yet. That would have to be rectified and soon.

First things first. What did I have?

A platoon of soldiers. All currently occupied at Scriver's dig site and unavailable for the foreseeable future.

Tyrene. She was likewise occupied with her Master's work. Also, I was loathe to burn that favor she owed me for something like this. I would be better served holding onto that until later. Also, she was still injured last I saw her and she did not have the advantage of alchemically sped-up healing.

Captain Cormun. He was still here in the academy. While he was loyal and would jump to aid me if I asked, the troops he commanded didn't have the same dedication as the Second Platoon. Still, a resource to be called upon.

The Smoke Demon. It would be of little use as a direct combatant. Both Olia and Garsh stood a fair chance of tearing it apart with ease. However, there might be some other uses.

Caleb. While I might be wary of him for the moment, he was still a resource I could call upon. He was always spoiling for a fight, and there was scarcely a better one than to take than a Jedi Knight.

Gaarurra.

I paused.

Gaarurra was my greatest weapon. Unbelievably strong, both physically and in the Force. And loyal beyond anything I've found here on Korriban.

Now…how to use all that to kill a pair of Jedi?

I had precious little information on Garsh's capabilities beyond, perhaps, a preference for Ataru. However, it was entirely possible that he favored a different fighting style altogether.

I would prefer not to engage him in a duel at all if I had a choice in the matter. If he was trusted enough to infiltrate Korriban, then he was not a Padawan. Even if combat wasn't his specialization, that still meant decades of lightsaber training and combat experience that I couldn't match head to head.

That meant arranging alternatives.

Truthfully, Olia presented many of the same problems that Garsh did, only she no longer had allies to call upon.

The beginning of a plan had started to be laid in my mind when the doctor attempted to get my attention, "Excuse me. The results are ready for your perusal."

An older human, the doctor was polite enough, but didn't show the same deference to my position as I'd seen with others and was rather blunt in his bedside manner. Probably a side effect of dealing with power-grubbing acolytes that went beyond their means on a regular basis.

And yes, I was entirely aware of the fact that I counted among that number. But I wasn't about to acknowledge that out loud.

I went to this man in particular because he had been involved in the installation of my cybernetics.

Sitting up, I made the effort to actually read the contents of the data slate he handed me instead of just pretending to. 

To my chagrin, I only really knew what some of the phrases and numbers meant. I'd grown up with a nurse for a mom, so I wasn't completely hopeless. However, that was a far cry from having an actual medical education.

Obviously, I could figure out that my heartrate was much lower than it should be in a healthy human adult. Same for blood pressure.

I grimaced as I saw that both blood sugar and fat were far below what was healthy. The connections were easy to draw. More powerful muscles meant that more energy would be expended, even passively. I'd either have to eat more food or change my diet to a more calorie-dense one. 

Failure to do so would mean starving to death as my body cannibalized itself. I'd lost a lot of weight during that year on Apatros and I'd never really gained it back since then.

"Alright, I'll admit my ignorance on...most of this." I stated bluntly. I pointed at the parts I recognized, "I can understand these and why they'd be a problem, but the rest is gibberish."

The doctor raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. I suppose that most of his patients were either too proud or too unconscious to admit to a lack of knowledge.

"Very well," He said after a few seconds, taking the data slate and starting at the beginning, "Starting from the top, I will admit that you are still relatively healthy for an adult human male." He paused.

"For the moment. As you have no doubt noticed, your body's energy intake has increased at least two-fold, possibly three. I do not believe I need to expand further on that, as you have already deduced the problem."

I made a "go on" gesture.

He rolled his eyes and scrolled down to a series of scans, "However, the true problem lies with whatever horrors of medical science you wrought upon yourself. 

While the mutations have increased muscle and bone density at several key points and have made you stronger…" Using a stylus, he poked at the knobby patches of skin at my joints.

"These are not callouses. They are tumors."

I nodded slowly in understanding. I'd known the risks, but it wasn't exactly something you wanted to hear, "Are they malignant?"

"For the moment, no." The doctor replied with a frown on his face, "All the scans show that they are benign and have no current risk of spreading. Though I imagine they are quite uncomfortable, given their size and positioning."

I had been noting a little bit of stiffness, but it hadn't been all that prevalent until he pointed out. Now I couldn't ignore it.

I shifted awkwardly.

"We can arrange to have them surgically removed," He offered before sighing, "But…it is possible there could be complications. The tumors are in problematic areas and intertwined with delicate parts of your anatomy. 

If something went wrong during the surgery, damage to the joints could limit your mobility. Even machine precision is not a guarantee."

I didn't speak for a while as I thought the situation over and considered my options. Idly, I manipulated the image to get a closer look at the scans of the tumors themselves, where they ended and the natural muscle tissue began.

An idea formed.

"Doctor, can you get me a real-time continuous scan? And a tray?"

His graying brow furrowed as he replied slowly, "Yes…but why?"

"Because I'm going to remove them." I answered simply.

It was stupid and he was the trained professional. But with Sith Alchemy, I could finely manipulate my own flesh to achieve what mechanical precision could not…and hopefully with no tumors this time.

Sith Alchemy got me into this mess. It was going to get me out.

"Are you completely…?" The doctor started before cutting himself off with a sigh, "Of course you are. Very well. I have no way of stopping you from this madness. You would likely do it anyways without my help, so I might as well make sure you survive your idiocy so your Master doesn't kill me."

He wasn't wrong, though he might have gotten my rank mixed up a bit on account of the lightsaber on my belt. Acolytes didn't usually receive one until after they had finished their Fourth Trial and officially moved on into their apprenticeships.

It took about ten minutes to get everything set up. A curious intern had joined the two of us, wondering what was going on. As the doctor didn't see fit to chase her off, I was content to leave her be. Besides, I had more important things to see to.

When the data slate with the live image was placed in front of me, I allowed my awareness to turn inwards, shutting out the incessant beeping of the medical equipment around me. 

With a precision a droid would have been jealous of, I willed the first tumor to dislodge itself from its moorings beneath my skin. Flesh warped to expose a hole to allow it a path out and sealed back up without a trace.

I suppressed the shudder at the sensation of something slithering out of the gap.

The extracted tumor landed on the tray with a wet plop. It was about the size of my thumb.

When I refocused outwards to examine the data slate, I saw that the doctor's understudy had turned a decidedly unhealthy shade of green. Ignoring her, I consulted the scans and was pleased to find that the area was now completely tumor free.

Emboldened, I turned my attention to the rest. One by one, the others were disconnected and removed, joining the first on the tray. There were twelve total, one for every one of my major joints. Hips, knees, ankles, shoulders, elbows, and wrists.

With the panic and rush of the past few days, I hadn't realized how much they had been hindering me until I stretched my arms and rolled my shoulders.

I consulted the scans again. Thankfully, the beneficial mutations were still stable, so my efforts on Corbos weren't wasted. I was annoyed that I had to do yet more work to correct my own mistakes but I realized that it could have been so much worse.

Glancing up, I noticed that the intern had fled the room at some point. I glanced at the doctor and raised an eyebrow, "New hire?"

Given the kinds of injuries that passed as "normal" on Korriban, having a weak stomach was pretty much a blaring neon sign that you had just stepped off the shuttle.

He nodded absently, "She's from the Coreward territories. She'll adapt though." He busied himself with looking over the scans for a few minutes before sighing.

"I don't know how you did it, some Force magic or something, but you just solved a problem that would have taken a dedicated team of surgeons almost a full day in…" He glanced at the chrono.

"…twenty minutes. I'm not certain if I should be impressed that you pulled it off or offended that you just made my profession obsolete in front of me."

I shrugged, "If it makes you feel better, it was intensely uncomfortable."

He only grumbled in reply and waved me off.

With nothing else to attend to, I retrieved my belongings and headed for the cafeteria, Gaarurra falling in behind me. 

I hadn't eaten anything this morning in preparation for the physical and now my stomach was doing its best to make me regret that decision. The energy I expended to remove the tumors hadn't helped matters.

Afterwards, I had plans to put into motion…

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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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