Broken Chains

[Isaac]

The Sith Battlecruiser 'Impenetrable' settled on her gargantuan landing gear amidst a field of machinary and debris, crushing all that lay beneath her. The landing ramp extended from the bowels of the ship, and a cadre of armoured Iskalloni marched to meet it. Turning in place and slamming their polearms into the ground, the Autarch's Guard awaited Kroenen's arrival.

The Dark Lord came alone, hunched and glowering, propelled by the hydraulics of his supportive armour.
"Report" he snarled at the first guard; the invocation was unnecessary, but he needed to hear his own voice right now, to assure himself he wasn't going mad. The encounter at the Marcol Void was taking its toll, and ever since putting the ship into Hyperspace, he'd had the unshakeable feeling that he wasn't alone. His thoughts were tainted by someone elses presence, every room he went into felt as though other eyes were upon him. His memories were indiscernable from those of the enemy he'd faced, and he felt as though he were drifting outside his own body, as if someone had switched off the gravity and somehow his spirit had become detached from the flesh.
"All invasion fleets are away, Autarch" the guard informed him dutifully. "Reports of the first battlefleets entering Galactic Alliance space are reaching us. We've instructed them to proceed with their assault in your absence, My Lord".
"Good, good. Activate the defense grid" Kroenen wheezed, glancing up at the empty skies.
"My Lord, we analysed your flight path and have determined there's a less than one percent probability that you were followed here from..."
"Just do it!" Kroenen snapped, halting his journey toward his palace to round on the guard and glare him down. Tall as the guard was, Kroenen was taller, and all the more imposing while in his armour. The guard didn't need telling again; a silent command was sent to the defense towers, and the skies were suddenly aflame with bolts of ion energy. The lethal violet storm webbed across Iskalloni's capital hub, protecting the Autarch's palace from orbital assault.

Once inside his inner sanctum, Kroenen settled into his throne, and machines set about removing him from his armour. A clamp grabbed him around the cranium and unbolted his helmet, pulling it away with a sick crack of metal separating from bone.
"There was a security incident while you were gone, Lord Kroenen" the guard continued, finishing his report. "Low-level threat".
"Explain" Kroenen said boredly, as the clamps set about securing his torso in place so that his heavy body armour could be unbolted, releasing his degraded body from its shell.
"Two beings, humanoid, discovered and infiltrated one of our southern component factories. Nothing was taken or damaged. The intruders wielded high-intensity melee weapons" the guard said, piquing Kroenen's interest.
"Show me" Kroenen ordered. The guard stepped forward, and ejected a cable from his wrist, into a socket in Kroenen's throne. It, in turn, relayed the information stream to Kroenen's neural network. He saw two beings in dark trappings, carefully exploring the facility. Kroenen knew the place; it was in the southern hemisphere of the planet, far from his palace. Wildlife still grew there, though it was as poisoned as the planet itself. In time, Kroenen suspected the Iskalloni cancer would overtake that, too. Then all would be machine, the beginning of the mechanisation of the galaxy in whole.

The two men paused near a console, and Kroenen watched one of them insert a datajack; he must have been downloading data on the Iskalloni. No matter... it was far too late to be doing anything about the Iskalloni invasion now.
And then something happened which really caught Kroenen's attention; one of the men fired Sith Lightning at the other, catching him off guard, and then a lightsaber duel erupted. Right here, on Iskadrell, where Kroenen had been just hours earlier. If he'd been here in person... what would he have done? It was clear that at least one of these was the Sith that Lady Malys had heard of, perhaps even both of them.
The Apprentice becomes the Master... he thought to himself, a wry smile forming on his twisted face.
"My Lord..?" the guard asked, but Kroenen silenced him wordlessly. This vidstream was too important to let a detail slip.
The apprentice finally gained the upper hand, taking most of the other man's hand and his lightsaber, and sending him to his fate on the factory floor a hundred feet below.
"Where is the body?" Kroenen asked, disappointed that such a powerful being had to die so needlessly. If only the apprentice had been captured...
"There is no body. The victim survived. The other..."
"Bring him" Kroenen snapped. "I don't care what proceedures he's currently undergoing. Bring him to me. NOW!"

The guards filed out of the room as ordered. Kroenen put his head in his hands, still feeling as mentally unstable as before. His opponent... something rang familliar about him. Something...
Who are you?
What puzzlement is this? To exist, and yet, not to exist...
I must know...
His own thoughts echoed back at him, from a time not so long ago, when Spector had transmitted a memorial record to him for analysis. A being, powerful enough in the Force to displace himself entirely and be somewhere else, sometime else. It was maddeningly impossible, so much so that Kroenen wanted that power for his own. And now... now, Kroenen realised, he'd been so close to attaining that power. He'd been linked inextricably with the Force user from Spector's record, he could have plucked that knowledge from his mind...

"Bio read-outs critical. Recommendation: Stasis regeneration, six hours" the computer warned him, and he sighed. Wearily, he resigned to allowing the systems of his throne room to whisk away his disembodied torso and plug all manner of cable and electrode into his failing organs, to rejuvenate him for whatever was to come next.

*

Taja Lohden sat back down after delivering a moving speech about democracy, the furtherment of the Galactic Alliance, and its ongoing security in the aftermath of Maarko Dorton's reign. Much of it left a foul aftertaste, but it was what the public wished to hear, and it was now crucial that she put herself in the Chief of State position.
"Very illuminating" Viktor Xanven said to her through his respirator, though his eyes never left the holographic display board hanging over the Chief's podium. "You've gained yourself a nice percentage of votes".
"Yes, but it's not enough" Taja seethed. "Molroy still holds a slight majority" She watched Senator Molroy of Malastare, a Gran who seemed to have risen from nowhere into the spotlight, and was the current favourite to win the election for the Chief of State role.
"I believe the Empire can be of assistance here" Xanven said smoothly, maintaining an air of casual conversation. Taja was silent for a moment, then she leaned forward as if to inspect the console on her pod.
"It would be counterpoint to my political stance to accept an offer of sabotage, if that's what you're inferring" she said, glancing at Xanven out of the corner of her eye. It was impossible to tell with that respirator, but if she wasn't mistaken, the pinched flesh around the arcane device meant he was smiling.
"Sabotage?" he said after a few moments. "My dear Senator, the Empire does not perpetrate unjust acts against those undeserving of them".
"And who would you deem deserving?" Taja said, flippantly. She knew full well what the Empire did behind closed doors.
"Well... that would depend what sordid evidence could be uncovered, would it not?"

"Senators and delegates" the speaker shouted over the tumult, "we will now break for the remainder of the day. Senate will reconvene tomorrow, for a vote tally and last-minute lobbying. Dismissed!"
Taja rose to leave her pod as soon as it docked, but Xanven blocked her path.
"The Empire needs a political ally at this stage. You've already rooted for using us as protection for the GA" he insisted.
"Indeed I did. And were I in charge, I wouldn't have needed to suggest the action" she replied irritably.
"Allow me to assist in your campaign... and you will have an ally in the Empire" Xanven promised.
"Very well. You have until tomorrow to defame Senator Molroy" she said, edging past him. "And I don't wish to know the details!"
"Leave it to the Empire... Chief of State Lohden".

[Trenton Vinh]

Cold. All he felt was cold.
Raeph Sunder existed in a place beyond his body.
He was drifting through his memories, through The Force, through his life. He watched himself die over and over, knocked from a catwalk by his Apprentice, and tried to figure out if he was dead.
Where he existed, there was no time. It could have been months or minutes since his terrible fall at the hands of his student, to him it felt like both.
His student. The heir to the Sith throne and Raeph's legacy, was no longer his legacy.
But he is still heir to the Sith throne...For he is Erebus' apprentice now.
The purgatory Raeph now resided in blackened with terror, and suddenly the world around him was ablaze; his rage exploding outwards. Suddenly the memories dancing around his dark world were horrid ones. His father's abuse, his time with the Jedi, storming out at the age of 16, the scorn of the Masters watching him leave. He had lacked the mental calm for the Jedi; but he had the passion needed for a Sith.
Sith.
He thought the word, and visions of crimson lightsabers and electric Force lightning filled his mind.
The Sith betrayed me. I was a fool. I thought I could sway Tryiim from following Erebus. But I trained him, and taught him that to reach his goals, the weak must be left behind. The strong must survive.
He had led himself to this place; he realized it now, far too late.
When Drake, the now Darth Erebus, had left known space 6 years ago, Raeph had failed. He decided that he was now Dark Lord of the Sith, and in his headstrong fashion, took on a potent Force User as his pupil.
He should have foreseen his master's return. But he had blinded himself, deceived himself into believing he was now the teacher.
But his own pupil had made him a stepping stone.
He had been weak, but in his weakness he would find his true strength. His weakness made him angry, and his anger gave him focus.
Peace is a lie. There is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
He felt it now, the power surging through him, like sparks in his veins.
Through Power, I gain victory
He began to see his future, of striking down his student and his master in one fell swoop. He could destroy them both, and prove once and for all that he was the Dark Lord of the Sith.
Through victory, my chains are broken.

He knew what he had to do to gain victory, he had to show his true power to Erebus and his new student.
Revenge would be blissful, and it would restore balance to the shifting weight of the Dark Side.

Then, he woke up.
He was blasted back a thousand kilometers, suddenly his eyes opened and lights blinded him. He felt as if thousands of volts were coursing through him, and he unleashed a shuddering gasp that turned into a cry of pain.
He was strapped down to a hoverbed, unable to move his hands or legs. The hoverbed gurney was being pushed through dark hallways by someone, while a droid in front of him tended to his stitches. Raeph's head twisted to look around, Dark Power surging, flying objects smashed through glass, a robotic voice beeped in alarm, and a deep voice uttered, "Silence. You will speak only when addressed by the Autarch."

Raeph didn't understand. He was trying to figure out what was happening, still unsure if he was actually alive or not.
He felt dead in some ways, but he had the Dark Side, and he trusted that meant he was still alive. Somehow.

Then he felt a surge of Dark Energy, far stronger than he himself, and twisted his head to the other side, trying to see where he was being taken, and who the owner of such power was.
His heart hammered in his chest, and he looked down to see the cybernetic arm and hand that had replaced his severed limb. His steel fingers twisted into a fist of rage...

[Isaac]

... and then there was silence. The hover-gurney bearing the fallen warrior was guided into a dimly lit chamber, strewn with loose cables and discarded pieces of machinery, as if the architect of the room had thrown luxury aside in favour of functionality.
From the open doors that the gurney had passed through, the low bubbling of various stasis tubes and preservation capsules was all that could be heard. The Iskalloni escort had left, and so too had the Autarch's personal guards.

Kroenen remained in his regeneration chamber, content to allow his guest to continue his inner struggles for the time being. The pure rage generated by the fallen warrior was far more quenching and invigoratiing than the artificial charge he was receiving from the imperfect technology that kept his withered carcass alive. The way the warrior looked upon his maimed and replaced hand with complete hate... oh, how Kroenen wished that were the extent of his own failures.
Finally, he released himself from his regeneration, allowing his body to be reassembled by the same technology that he both loathed and was bound to. Of all his failings, this was his most dire. It was a chain which he could not yet break, a weakness he hadn't found the power to overcome, despite a century of searching.
He knew he was close to shedding this disgusting shell, but he couldn't allow his personal matters to take precedence over the bigger picture. The galaxy was almost his; a misstep now, and he would undo all that.
Once more he regarded the fallen warrior, and his own thoughts surprised him; he didn't pity the man, but the feeling he felt was something akin to pity. But pity would do him no good; no, he needed to be shown his strengths, if he were to be of any use to Kroenen now.

"The Rule of Two" Kroenen rumbled, in his baritone, synthetic voice. "One to embody power, the other to crave it". He paused, urged his legs to carry him from the raised dais of his throne to the ground below, so he could better observe the warrior. It was an effort, one he hid well. It wouldn't do to be seen as a weaker being in the presence of this one, he knew.
"There can never be only two Sith" he declared, closing a bladed, metal fist around the bars of the gurney beside the warrior's face. "I realise this now. The Dark Side of the Force cannot be contained and controlled forever. There will always be those who stumble across the secrets of the Sith, though few of those have the strength or the ambition to lay true claim to the title. Still... it is bound to happen"

Kroenen turned, and moved to the segmented window at the side of the room, gazing out upon Iskadrell in all it's corrupted glory. The planet had once belonged solely to the Iskalloni and their slaves; now, it belonged to him. He'd taken a poisoned world, and crushed it into something even blacker, his machinations causing the world to become strong in the Dark Side. It had happened on other worlds throughout the galaxy, though Kroenen had never felt it happen until he'd taken root on Iskadrell. No doubt his guest could feel it too, the nexus of Dark Side energy flowing around him. Kroenen suspected the fallen warrior would draw upon it, strengthen himself. Perhaps he'd even challenge Kroenen, in which case the Dark Lord of the Sith would regrettably have to dispose of the potential talent laying in his sanctum.
"The one who betrayed you. Your apprentice?" Kroenen asked. Despite his silence, Kroenen felt affirmation in the anger his words brought forth. Such bitter memories...
"He failed you" Kroenen rumbled, turning his head to a side, his luminous red eyes looking at the warrior.
"What?" the warrior asked, voice barely more than a whisper; the steaming-hot factory in which he'd been discovered must have parched him, and Kroenen doubted his rehydration had occurred to the Iskalloni. "It was my weakness which led to his betrayal. My teachings drove his hand... the weak must be culled. I believed myself stronger..."
Stronger? Stronger than whom? Kroenen wondered to himself. The apprentice? Or another? Instead, he simply offered something for the warrior to think about. "Perhaps the apprentice is the weak one. His betrayal was doubtlessly driving him, and his vision clouded by the promises of power his success would bring".
"The Code teaches that through power, we gain victory..."
"Do not quote the Code to me" Kroenen snarled, turning away again. "I have no use for it's sentiments, save one. The Sith of the past allowed themselves to be driven by the tenets of an immaterial mantra, chaining themselves to it as if it were their only lifeline. No... your apprentice lacked the vision to see past his own personal profit. He is also not your real betrayer, is he?"

Again, the warrior's anger was palpable, and Kroenen marvelled at how he controlled his anger rather than let it explode in a violent torrent of power. This one, he could work with. Assuming, of course, he could be bent to the Dark Lord's will.
"I feel your anger" Kroenen mused, clenching his metal fist. "Your professed failure will forge you into something indestructable. Yet you must possess more than a simple thirst for vengeance... if not, you'll be cast aside with your visionless apprentice" he said, as a pair of Iskalloni marched into the chamber to take the warrior away and finish what they'd started.

[Trenton Vinh]

Raeph felt like something was happening inside his body, inside his mind.
The Dark Side flowed through him, waves of its unfathomable power cascading across his will.
He bathed in it, allowed it to fuel his energy, to keep him conscious after the grievous wounds and intense surgeries he had only barely survived.

This being of Dark power was speaking to him, with a penetrating understanding that shook Raeph from within.
"How...?" was all he could manage to breathe before being pulled away by Iskalloni.
He felt his rage rise to the surface, bubbling as it boiled in his blood.
Raeph unleashed a roar of rage, and felt his power building.

The Iskalloni injected him with something foul, and his eyes slipped shut despite his resistance.
He was left floating in the dark depths of his mind, with more questions than answers.

Then he felt his mind open; and great understanding flooded through him. He felt as if he were a mere extension of a million others. Like a cell in the bloodstream of a colossal beast, one of unstoppable power.
And then Raeph Sunder realized he had been transformed into something far more than just Sith.

[Isaac]

The sun was setting on Coruscant, and still the city-planet didn't sleep. As though darkness were merely a minor inconvenience to the artificial life of the planet, a billion lights flared to life over every district, the endless streams of airtraffic continued on their way, and the walkways bristled with pedestrians from all walks of life.
Coruscant never slept, and as Chief of State Taja Lohden stared out over the city, she doubted it ever would. Though she looked somber as she gazed through the panoramic wall of transparisteel, her mind was racing. A day earlier, she'd been unsure of her position in the vote for the Chief of State's office. Now, an hour after re-convening to hear the final vote, here she was; in the proverbial seat of power, the whole of the Galactic Alliance nestled in her palm.

All she had to do was close her fist, and she could grind it to dust. But now that she'd achieved this much, she was hesitant. She was in charge of most of the civillised galaxy, and with the Empire as her ally, it wouldn't be difficult to bring the rest into line. She could bring the entire galaxy under Sith dominion, and she could do it without the crude methods of her Master. She'd learned all she could from that hollowed-out shell of a man, and now he hid himself away like some shameful creature, surrounded by freaks of nature and cut-off from the galaxy he sought to possess. He was weaker now than he'd ever been, and if he'd ever driven one lesson home, it was that weakness could not be tolerated among the Sith.
The more she considered it, the more appealing her mutinous ideas became. She knew she could take Kroenen out if it came to a duel; the man wasn't even a shadow of what he'd been when he'd begun her training, and he couldn't even fathom the true depths of her talents. Sith Sorcery, for one, was a skill which had ever eluded him. True, his abilities were astounding when combined with rudimentary sciences and other Sith alchemical skills, but the currents of Sith Sorcery ran deeper than in the making of monsters and the extension of life. She didn't even have to bring a blade to bear against him; she could snap what remained of his mind, shred his sanity if she had to; yes, now was the time to begin preparing for her ascension to Masterhood.

"Chief of State Lohden" Viktor Xanven said, entering the room and breaking her from her internal scheming. "Congratulations on your most surprising victory".
"Possession of illegal substances? Evidence of bribery? Honestly, is that the best your people could come up with?" she asked, in regards to the shaming of Senator Molroy, her only real rival in the election.
"That's only what was in the press release. Honestly, the Empire dug up some real dirt on the old Senator..."
"I don't wish to know" Taja said, holding up her hand to cut him off, as she sat in her high-backed chair behind the long, curved desk, her back to the window. "Out of curiosity, however, how many of the allegations were true?"
"I thought you didn't wish to know" Xanven said slyly, his eyes narrowing and the flesh pinching around his respirator. He was smiling again; the fool thinks he can read me like a book.
"Indulge me" Taja said, leaning back into the chair and gently caressing it's arm. The chair couldn't have been more plain, yet to her it felt like a throne, a crowning achievement in her rise to power. It would be a testament to her self-control if she could manage to withhold from seizing upon that power with too much vigor; she didn't wish to invoke echoes of the Emperor of the old Empire, and his rise.
"Very well" Xanven said after a moment. "The drugs were planted at his mansion. Several connections were made between certain dubious transactions. He'll probably emerge unscathed after the investigations are finished, but it was enough to remove him from the running for office".
"Senator Molroy has a notoriously well-guarded estate" Taja observed, with a raised eyebrow. "I'm surprised you could have gotten within a kilometer of the place, nevermind inside it".

"Ah yes... we used a special operative for this mission. He has, shall we say... unusual talents" Viktor smiled, steepling his gloved fingers before him, his beetle-like eyes meeting hers. Taja knew what question she was meant to ask next, and already knew the answer, but she was quite content to string Xanven along and let him have his moment of triumph, however small it may be.
"What talents would those be?" she asked. Xanven either didn't notice her disinterested tone, or didn't care.
"He is one of those lucky few individuals touched by the Force that the Jedi didn't manage to snatch up during their tenure as Guardians of the G.A" Viktor said, leaning back in his own chair, almost mimicking her pose. This one likes to be around power, and he likes to impress, Taja thought to herself. Yet thus far he's refrained from making a power-grab in the name of the Empire... I'll have to treat this one with caution.
"I'd like to meet him" Taja decided, and the insufferable Imperial Head of State smiled again, that all-knowing expression.
"Yes, I anticipated you would. Unfortunately, he is on assignment right now, but at your next convenience I would be happy to arrange it".
"I look forward to it" Taja said.
"As do I" Viktor replied, rising to leave. "Anything to further the relationship between the Empire and the Galactic Alliance Chief of State".
Taja watched him leave, wondering why the man hadn't brokered a discussion concerning the interests of the Empire in this new relationship. Her safest option would be to eliminate him now, and have a hand in the election of his successor, but something was telling her that he could be useful, and trusted not to betray the circumstances surrounding her elevation. And then there was this Force sensitive he spoke of... her head had almost exploded with possibilities at his mention. Was he to be her new apprentice? Was this fate, thrusting upon her the means to continue the lineage of the Sith without Kroenen?

Once more she returned to the window and its vista of the city beyond her office. Her eyes were drawn to the multi-spired Jedi Temple in the distance, and she realised that no matter what possibilities lay down her path, there was currently only one thing certain; the Jedi had to be removed from play sooner rather than later. Despite being effectively neutered by her predecessor, Taja had no doubt that the longer the Jedi remained stationed on Coruscant, the more they'd try to interfere with Galactic affairs. She wanted them removed from Coruscant, perhaps even G.A space entirely. She couldn't make a play at that until she had something to play with, however. Even in her position, she couldn't just exile the Jedi on no grounds; she had to wait for them to provide her with something to use against them, and then drive them from Coruscant with whatever tools she had at her disposal as a politician, rather than a Sith Lord.

Perhaps Xanven would be willing to make a show of force, indoctrinating the Empire into the heart and soul of the G.A with one iconic action. No... that would invoke too many images from history, she decided. It had to come from a group unaffiliated with her directly, to avoid the backlash of the people. The Mandalorians, perhaps, or maybe even ShadowNet, if she could wrangle control of them from the Director's hands now that Maarko Dorton was out of the Chief's position.
A smile crept to her lips; she felt assured that, whatever the coming weeks may bring, she'd soon be on the path to fulfilling her destiny, and the ultimate victory of the Sith.

[Trenton Vinh]

It took Raeph Sunder nearly two full days of rest to process the changes he had endured.
He sneered in his semi-conscious lucid state that was his rest periods.

Process. I'm even beginning to sound like them.

The transformation was slow, creeping up on him. Parts of his mind slowly being replaced with Iskalloni processors, melding his mind forever into their databanks.
In The Force, he could feel the tiny nanobots in his skull, crawling across his brain.
His mind changed accordingly, he felt he was slowly becoming one with his new existence.
The information network he now had access to had stored footage of everything seen through his now-cybernetic right eye. It burned a blood red most of the time, but changed colors to allow better focus and vision. He could use the ocular sight to target objects, and his new cybernetic right arm would slam a fist into it with blinding speed.
He could move faster, and was far stronger, many of his muscles and ligaments had been replaced with advanced cybernetics. He could now multi-task much more efficiently, accessing databanks in the Iskallon network to learn about the beings he was forever bound to.

He had been given what he supposed was his room. A small round chamber, steel and dim, with a hole in the center and a bench lining the walls.
Raeph had forgone laying on the bench, he had dropped to the floor, curling into a tight ball. During his slumber he had shifted, and he was now laying face-up, sprawled out. His sleeveless black shirt was torn, ravaged, dirty. His black tunic pants were ripped at the knees, the ankles shredded. His hair had been removed, shaved clean, but now his scarred scalp was covered in short dark hair, two centimeters long.

He felt overwhelmed, like he had been overloaded with information and was struggling to understand it all at once. He supposed it was natural; his body and mind needed time to adapt to the changes.

Eventually, Raeph Sunder stood up, and began to pace, then the door opened once more.
A young boy stood before him, framed in the light from out in the hallway.
For a moment, both stared at one another. Raeph frowned, as the blue eyes of the young child seemed to look into him. The child was Force-sensitive.

The child asked, "Are you ready to begin?"
Raeph furrowed his brows, and replied questioningly, "Begin what?"
The boy's response was a smile, "Your life."
Shrugging, Raeph started to follow the boy as he turned and walked down the hall.
He couldn't tell if he was on a spaceship or on a planet, deep within an Iskalloni complex. The hallways were all metal and had no windows.
The boy always stayed ahead of Raeph, and he could see that the boy's hair was about the same length as Raeph's, but he had no visible scars. He wore all white clothing, spotlessly clean.

Raeph called out to him, "Where are we going?"
The boy's walk slowed, and he turned around to regard Raeph with a strange look.
"Forward. We can never go backwards. To be still is to be dead."
Then he turned around and skipped off again, leading him around once more.

The boy started going faster now, and Raeph felt a looming presence in The Force, something that terrified him and awed him at once. He felt it crawling up his spine, settling in his nervous system, taking root in his core. Its influence threatened to overcome him, and he shivered, goosebumps spreading across his skin.
The boy rounded a corner, disappearing from sight at the end of the white hall.
Raeph was running now, rushing to catch up to the boy, feeling as if something was behind him, following him relentlessly.
He rounded the corner and burst through a doorway. He turned around as the automatic door slid shut, seeing the empty hallway behind him. He looked down and took a deep breath of relief, realizing he had been scaring himself.

Ever since the Iskalloni surgeons had operated on him, The Force had felt strange to him. It as if it were not his power to draw upon, like it was being granted to him temporarily, for a cost. He felt drained soon after accessing it, drawing strength aided him for a short time, but then he would be tired afterwards for twice as long.
As if The Force had become malevolent by nature, parasitic. He could use it, but it would use him, sapping his energy later on in exchange.

Raeph gulped down air, and turned to look at the room he had been led to.
It was rusted, dark, a large difference between the nearly sterile maze he had been residing in since his operations.
The floor felt like stone, and the walls went high, but the ceiling was dark -- he couldn't see how high it was. It was like a starless night overhead, and a shadowy concrete path through the dark.
Walking forwards, Raeph felt eyes on him, and slowed.
The boy was nowhere in sight, and now Raeph felt like a fool. His anger narrowed his eyes, clenched his fists and whitened his knuckles.
He felt like he had been lured into a trap.

He had chased the child, who had now disappeared, and Raeph wondered if the boy had been a figment of his damaged imagination, or a Force Vision, or some strange Iskalloni holographic technology.

Then he felt the presence again in The Force, the malevolent influence piercing at him. Raeph felt his anger rise, his confusion and frustration rising to a boiling point. He felt the Dark Side pulse through him, and reached out to touch the influence that had been pulling at him.
And then he understood. It was the ancient being he had felt earlier; his power so palpable that mere proximity made Raeph's world grow hazy. His Force connection was leeched by this man's power, as if he was giving Raeph the power of The Dark Side, then consuming the energy produced.
He felt weakened, light-headed, disoriented. Suddenly the young boy was standing before him again, and the image of the child distorted, flickered, and disappeared as if he had been a hologram.
Then a deep rumble came from the darkness beyond Raeph's vision, and he shivered once more, the dark power in the room chilling him.

[Isaac]

"Are you shy of your power, child?" Kroenen asked, stepping into view from beyond the shadows of the room, clad in imposing armour which allowed him to maintain his full height, and stride without the aid of the Force. It also added girth to his withered frame, though that was less a matter of vanity, and more a matter of practicality; the armour housed the hydraulics and other systems required to simulate the physical strength Kroenen had once possessed. Whether it had any intimidating effects on the opponent, Kroenen cared not, for he had little use for the intangible, and couldn't put reliance in a piece of equipment to cause fear every time he used it. He had other strengths; the fear of others, while not in itself undesirable, wasn't necessary.
The other man - no, other Sith - seemed to regard him questioningly, as if Kroenen's question had raised curiosity rather than defensiveness.
"Many times since your arrival here, I have felt your anger rising. Yet every time it is suppressed. Wise, not to let your emotions rule you, but to keep them stored where they aren't useful is a waste" Kroenen lectured, clasping his hands behind his back. He stooped slightly, looking over the newly-created hybrid of Iskalloni and Sith. His red eyes seemed to glow all the more intensely for a moment, then he whirled on the spot and beckoned the Sith into his throne room.

"Now that you have been re-forged, we must discuss your wayward apprentice. I warn you now - discard any notion that he may be recovered" Kroenen rumbled. "Betrayal is an end unto itself. His destiny and yours may still be intertwined, but it is a path of destruction that now lays before you. He must die, or you must die, but while you both live, both will be consumed with the desire to end the other. It is not permissable to allow such lowly needs to dominate one's existence, lest you become distracted from your path as a Sith".
Kroenen once again turned to face him. This time, he raised the hood hanging from the back of his armour, and shrouded himself with it, sitting down in his throne.
"The Dark Side of the Force is strong in you. I do not know your name, and I do not wish to. Forget who you were, and decide who you will become. Discard your name and choose a new one, and take your place among the pantheon of Sith Lords. Destroy your apprentice, as your first step to removing all exploitable weakness.
"Should you wish to learn from me, then do not be too proud to seek my knowledge. With your new modifications, you can access and process information with much more speed and accuracy than any soft tissue-matter. You are a weapon of magnitude precedented only by myself, however a weapon is nothing without a solid hand to wield it. Master yourself as an Iskalloni, and you will become a far more powerful Sith in the process".

Kroenen settled back into his throne, his upper body all but disappearing into shadow, except his eyes; always aglow, always alert. He had considered forcing this Sith into apprentiship, but it was apparent that he was already far too learned to begin learning anew. It didn't mean Kroenen couldn't ally himself with this Sith, though, and in giving him the tools with which to bend his destiny to his own will, Kroenen doubted his offer of alliance - however one-sided it may be - would be declined.
All that remained was for the warrior to confront his erstwhile apprentice, claim his Sith name, and unlock his full potential so that he may etch his name forever into the history of the Sith - perhaps, even, the galaxy itself.

[Trenton Vinh]

Raeph looked at the brutal, monstruous man before him. In another life perhaps, he would have judged the appearance harshly. After all the transformations he had endured, and the things he had learned of these Iskalloni creatures, he realized now that this being was the most terrible of them all. And yet, the most sacred as well.

Perhaps the technology imbued in him is the most advanced they have. He certainly is the most dangerous, and most wise.

The Sith looked down at himself now, holding his palms out in front of him. The cybernetic arm flexed in response, still slightly awkward as he moved it. His left hand, his flesh hand, was burned, blackened and charred from the electric energy he had built up and held onto.

This man was right. Raeph had let himself be controlled by his emotions. He had always been chided by his Master, by Erebus for his impulsiveness.
The mere though of Erebus brought a dark pulse of power running through his veins like a narcotic.
Yet this power that fueled him now, the energy that made him hyperaware, faster than thought, and allowed him to perform incredible feats, was withheld within himself. His emotional reaction drew his energy away from his core, where his real power lay. He needed to learn to be less impulsive, more in control. More...like an Iskalloni.

Raeph snarled and let the rage inside him out with a mighty scream, his left hand burning once more as he unleashed Force lightning into the walls and ceiling, creating a lightning storm in the very room.
He basked in the release, the sensation of awe as the room lit up with blinding light.
Then he stopped, and dropped his arms.
He felt strangely cleansed.
Again he could feel the tiny microbots inside his brain, rewiring his synapses and downloading his memories into sub-files.
He was becoming something else entirely, and he would allow himself to change. He would grow more powerful than he ever had before, and when his transformation was complete, he would destroy Erebus.


The armored Sith rumbled,
"The Dark Side of the Force is strong in you. I do not know your name, and I do not wish to. Forget who you were, and decide who you will become. Discard your name and choose a new one, and take your place among the pantheon of Sith Lords. Destroy your apprentice, as your first step to removing all exploitable weakness."

Raeph thought of his Apprentice. Tryiim had proven himself unworthy. He would bow at Raeph's feet and plead for his life, to once more be allowed to learn from the all-powerful Sith Lord.
And Raeph would be freed as soon as his blade removed the young man's head from his shoulders.

But he wasn't Raeph anymore. He would destroy all that was Raeph's past in the future, when he was strong enough. But he was different now, changed. No longer was he Raeph Sunder. He smirked, realizing he hadn't been himself in years. He had never been truly himself until now. This was where he was meant to be, where his destiny had taken him. He would be reborn and take all that he wanted.

Forget who I am...Decide who I will become.

The spoken words rang in his mind, endlessly captured in his Iskalloni storage units, audio that could be repeated over and over in his mind.
But he did not need to replay the words, they were ingrained in his mind like tattoos on the back of his eyelids.
His arms dropped to his sides, and he said with conviction that echoed through The Force,

"I am Darth Rilind."