Dejarik

[Trenton Vinh]

Jedi Master Gani Torre fumed, his usually stern and composed force Presence was now stormy and uneasy.
Torre was known for his decisiveness; his certainty in what was the right thing to do was a trait that made him one of the youngest ever elected Jedi Council Members. He had held his seat in it now for over fifteen years.
To his students, he was legendary for his wisdom and will, the stubborn Master was incredibly patient and capable of great kindness.
To his enemies, he was an unstoppable force.

And here he was now, staring out the windows of the Jedi High Council Chamber on Coruscant for what could be the last time of his life.
In his mind, he heard the words again,
"As such, it is no longer fair to expect the veneered Jedi to rise to such heat, nor would it be an acceptable measure to continue to place Galactic peace in their steadily-declining hands. Events witnessed over the past few weeks prove even further that the Jedi no longer have their house in order, and while I unabashedly believe they will recover from such public incidents and humiliations, their time as our protectors is at an end. As the times move forward, so must we!"

A brilliant speech, it had the effect on the Senate that the now resigned Chief of State had hoped for.
It also meant the end of a dynasty, for a tradition older than the Galactic Alliance.
The Jedi Order was older than the Republic had been.

It seemed that he was not the only one pondering the legacy of the Jedi Order; behind his left shoulder, the Bothan Jedi Master Garen Dern said in a soft voice,
"Over 4000 years defending this Government. Even when those who held the seat of power were hunting us, we continued to do everything in our power to spread peace. And now they don't want us."

Torre lowered his eyes to the marble floor. The only other Council Member sharing the room was Soro Willnz, who hissed, "There's more to this than we see. I sense the hand of the Sith, tightening the noose."
Gani Torre had been informed that a crimson-lightsaber wielding assailant had been seen near the murder of Griegorey Rikter, and he turned to look at the Barabel. The fading sunlight made Soro Willnz's shadow three meters long, hiding the face of Garen Dern. His silver eyes peered intently at Gani.

"You sense the Sith?" Torre asked.
Soro elaborated, "The Senate has always been corrupt, but Rikter wasn't just a corrupt politician. He was tainted by the Dark Side."
Garrus noted with a growl, "The Henrikson assassination...a Sith plot?"
Soro nodded, and Torre wondered aloud, "But to what end?"
The barabel had the response,
"Destroy the credibility of the Jedi, and drive us into exile!"

Garen said darkly, "The Henrikson murder was just the beginning. If pushing us out of the Republic is their plan, their is more to come still."
Torre agreed, but asked, "Why do you believe that?"

"Because Sith Lords are masters of Dejarik."

*****

Tryiim had returned to the Ergosphere Station in the Maw cluster, savoring the growing power of the Dark Side as he came ever closer to the Force Nexus in the center.
There, in the heart of the black hole cluster, in the heart of a very fortunate asteroid, was the heart of the Dark Side. Lord Erebus' power pulsed with the rhythm of a heartbeat, passing over Tryiim in waves, even from kilometers away.
As the shuttle neared the station, its hangar bay doors opened like a mouth, awaiting his entry.
The Dark Side was palpable, like static electricity in the air.
Landing the shuttle and lowering the ramp, Tryiim opened himself up to the Dark Side, allowing it to carry him through the belly of the station, to its turbolift; and up to the quarters of his new Master.

Erebus knew he was coming by now, he probably had known before Tryiim had even entered the Maw. The Dark Lord was deep in Meditation, his mind elsewhere but omnipresent. Tryiim wondered what the man contemplated in his Dark ruminations, simmering in his hatred, slowly building the pressure until it was ready to burst.
The turbolift doors opened slowly, and he stepped into the chamber. The domed room was all transparisteel, showing the Maw cluster in all its brilliance.
Blind to it, Tryim moved to the center of the room, where the source of the Dark Power awaited in a cross-legged Meditative Posture.
The room sank into the asteroid, a squared staircase led to the bottom like an inverted pyramid. Eight feet deep, Tryiim knew people would feel swallowed by the darkness above in this alcove.
The Lord of Darkness would find this an ideal place for meditation and reflection; and he did not move or acknowledge Tryiim in any way as the young man dropped to his left knee, resting his forearm on his thigh and his right palm on the floor.
Head down, he spoke,
"My Lord; I defeated Raeph Sunder; I also retrieved this information disc."
The disc floated from the pocket of his robes and hovered before his face as Erebus opened his eyes. Black as night, Tryiim found he was able to see them as clearly as he could see a black hole in The Force.
The disc floated silently into the folds of Erebus' obsidian robes, and his husky voice responded,
"Did you kill him? Is Raeph Sunder dead?"
Tryiim blinked, "I fought him on a catwalk; he fell off, I felt him hit the ground in The Force."

The Dark Lord closed his eyes for a moment, breathing inwards slowly, Tryiim wished he could sense the man's emotions, but he was unreadable.
He tried to hide his emotions the way his new Master did. Where Raeph was impulsive; quick to lash out in anger or frustration, Erebus was a statue of silence, mysterious. Tryiim wondered what the man was like when angered.
"With Raeph gone, you have restored balance to the Rule of Two."
Erebus looked into Tryiim's blinded eyes and continued, "Two Sith there must be. Never more. One to embody the power, the other to crave it. Learn from me all you can, child, for you must overcome me someday."

Tryiim nodded slowly, it was the way of the Sith and always would be. He would study his Master, simultaneously searching for a weakness to exploit to take the power for himself.
His Master was incredibly potent with the Dark Side; and Tryiim could have it for himself someday.
As he contemplated his future, Erebus said prophetically, "We must destroy your past as you forge your new future. As you are well on the path to becoming a great Sith Lord, you are to take the title you are finally deserving of. Speak your new name, my apprentice, and let us orchestrate the will of the Dark Side."

Tryiim had not expected his Master to allow him to take his Darth title already; but there were Two Sith, both would hold the Darth title.
He was silent for a moment, his mind opening to the Dark Side, and its will whispered in his ear.
As Erebus rose to his feet, Tryiim did as well. Erebus' lightsaber ignited, and he flourished it before lowering it to his Apprentice's forehead. He brushed within millimeters of Tryiim's skin, before doing the same to his left and right shoulders.
Tryiim opened his mouth and spoke the name that the Dark Side willed him to,
"I am Darth Noxus, harbinger of night."

Erebus smiled, and said, "A good title, young one. You will grow to be strong as we work to achieve our goal. We will not fail, I have foreseen our victory..."

[Isaac]

A cruiser, alone, unescorted, crawled warily through the vast maze of blackholes and nebulae called by those who knew of it's existence 'The Maw'.
There were precious few habitable planets within the region, and fewer signs of exploration; there were no satellites, no stations, no mining colonies, all despite the ample supply of resource-rich asteroids, all unclaimed. Tumbling over one another, as though inviting passers-by to come and take their resources, some swelling visibly with unreaped metals as to have taken on a metallic sheen in the light cast by the local stars.
Ignoring such temptations, the cruiser continued on it's unknown journey, travelling toward a target that it's owner couldn't even pin-point. A great black heart was beating, from somewhere within this region; the cruisers' lone conscious occupant could feel its steady percussion, and the Force was guiding him along the central artery amidst a web of dark veins and pulses. The Maw was a hub of activity, for one so attuned to the Force; not in the same way a Jedi might define 'activity', for that would require the presence of life, flourishing and nurturing. No... the being onboard the drifting cruiser was drawn to a different kind of activity, such as the sheer power of the blackholes surrounding him, sucking the light and the life from the universe, a slow drain which would take millennia to accomplish. Activity such as the resonant despair felt by pilots long-lost, who'd found themselves in The Maw only to never again leave. Activity such as the beating, sinister heart of darkness he was determined to weed out...

Something distracted the lone figure, but not significantly. He'd detected a change; not in the cadaver splayed before him, for that had long-ago frozen, exposed to the void in this manner. Nor was it in the shattered viewports, since space had already taken the last shards of transparisteel and sucked out every last bit of breathable air in the vessel. It pleased the lone figure to know that even in trying to slake its thirst on the precious life-giving gases in his ship, he'd been able to deny death it's chance to vent him into the void. Unfortunately for his crew, they hadn't been so lucky. Those who hadn't been dragged into space before the energy shields had reactivated, or been impaled on huge shards from the collapsing viewport, had died of hypothermia and other such maladies in the following hours. Some had even suspected their Master of propogating their deaths, for the more crew members that lost their lives, the more he had at his disposal.

The thing that had distracted the shadowed figure was something curious; one of the corpses had moved. Nothing more than a finger twitch, but it had been without instruction. The body had moved on its own... and after a hundred years of being frozen in place at his control station, the body in question should not even have physically been able to move, even if its will was its own.
The shadow rose from its command chair and stepped over the corpse of its long-dead first officer. The bridge creaked and protested even the slightest shift in weight, but holding the vessel together through sheer will and control of the Force had become second-nature to the shadow; stressed though the vessel may be, she wouldn't fall apart until the shadow allowed her to.
Approaching the frozen figure with slow grace, the shadow seemed to materialise from nowhere as it was suddenly cast in the red glow given off by the dead officers' active console. Like a puppetmaster, the figure could control the corpses of its crew just as easily as it bound the ship together; another reason why this particular corpses' involuntary movement was cause for concern.
The shadow extended a hand, a finger clad in metal reaching to touch a spot in the centre of the young officers forehead; and on cue, the body shattered into lumps of solid meat. There was no blood, save for the flash-frozen kernels which scattered over the deck, bouncing like marbles around the shadow's feet.

From somewhere behind the ruined doors of the bridge, another frozen corpse shambled in to take the officers place, its head permanently lolling to one side, eyes bulging and glassed with blood. She was a young one, though the shadow had long forgotten the names and roles of his crew. He had ample specimens at his disposal, but this was the first time in decades he'd had to replace one of his grotesque marionettes; but there was no way, no possible way that after all these years, the corpses were showing signs of life.
The shadow put it from his mind, and focused on attuning this new crew member to his will, accustoming himself to her presence and the malleability of her body, until she'd slipped seamlessly into the puzzle with no trace of aberration in his mind.
Once more the shadow turned, seeming to glide over the slick glistening floor, and reformed in its command chair.
Peace is a lie, it thought to himself, yet alone here on the bridge of his command ship, the shadow had come to know a sort-of peace of a different kind. In his own microcosm, he was the ultimate Master, and whatever he wished to be done was done. There was no in-fighting, no resistance; everything was to order, everything was efficient. Peaceful.
But he mustn't allow himself to grow complacent with his acceptance of the reality of his situation; at heart, he wanted nothing more than to shatter that peace along with every single corpse onboard his vessel, eliminate every reminder of his past failures, destroy this ship and this crew and be reborn a vengeful creature.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Strength was something he wasn't lacking in; many decades in isolation had given him nothing to do but grow in strength, both intellectually and in the Force. Others would have gone mad in his situation. No... others would have died.

A shrill alarm sounded across the bridge, and the shadow stirred uncomfortably; it was the first sound he'd heard in recent memory, other than the breaking of corpses and the protesting of his ruined ship. It wasn't totally unfamilliar; the sound brought with it memories of sudden, rushing death, of imminent failure and the laughter in his mind of someone he'd trusted... someone who should have completely evaporated this vessel, rather than leave it to die in space.
The shadow waved a hand over the panel built into the arm of its command chair, and a holodisplay dropped down from the overhanging hood of the seat, illuminating the shadows facemask. Red light filled the runes and symbols carved into the visage, though they found no glint of eyes in the sockets. It was as if the armour were empty of any physical form; that, or perhaps a trick of the light that nobody was around to witness.
The hologram displayed a map of the current region of space; the shadow had briefly ceased probing the depths of the Maw with its mind, its futility beginning to settle in. And that was when, by chance, the long-range sensors had found it; a space station, nestled between a pair of black holes, where nobody would think to look for it.

Nobody, perhaps, except Lord Maladict, who had spent far too long probing the corners of the galaxy in increasing desperation for any sign, any feeling, anything steeped so strongly in the Dark Side of the Force. Now that he'd found traces of such a presence, he was certain it would be him...

Inclining his head ever so slightly, the Dark Lord of the Sith began pulling the strings of his obedient puppets, and set the Tombstalker on a slow drifting course for the station, blotting out his own presence within the Force before the pulsing darkness sitting in that station detected him. For all the galaxy, the Sith Battlecruiser looked like nothing more than a drifting wreck, a relic of a time long forgotten. But he would know... he would remember...

[Trenton Vinh]

Lord Erebus extended his awareness into the Force, drawing on the power of the Force Nexus of his lair, using the Black Holes as a focusing point for his energy.

A Darkness so true that light cannot even escape its power. The most destructive power in the entire Universe.

His Apprentice meditated next to him, and Erebus said aloud,
"Focus on what makes you angry, it will give you focus. Your natural emotions are a source of great power. Remember, The Force is all around you, but you must be the catalyst that channels it. You must build your anger like a dam, hold the liquid power until it threatens to break through. When you unleash it on your enemies, you will drown them in your power."

Darth Noxus nodded, and his blind eyes rose to stare towards the Black Hole directly above them. Swallowing the Galaxy hungrily, it's black depths stared back, as sightless as the Sith beneath it.

"In combat, your anger can be your downfall. You must control it. Do not allow it to control you. Passion is power, but not without proper restraint."

The Dark Lord of the Sith rose, his black robes swirling slowly, as though they were drifting through water.
In his palm was his lightsaber, a sleek phrik hilt that seemed to swallow light. The hilt was hooked
Tryiim rose as well, the six feet between them widening as they both took two steps away from one another. He unclipped his lightsaber from his belt, watching his Masters weapon carefully.
He had never sparred with Darth Erebus before, and had no idea what to expect.
Noxus had heard tales from his previous Master, but had not retrieved the old double-bladed lightsaber of Erebus, which was stored in a chamber deep within their asteroid base temple.

Erebus' lightsaber snapped to life, filling the dark room with crimson light. Noxus activated a split second later, announcing his readiness with the dramatic snap-hiss-humm of the energy blade.
The Dark Lord of the Sith held his blade at his hip, one hand gripping the black steel hilt, the light cast half his face into deep shadow. His eyes were pools of unreadable blackness, and his voice echoed through Noxus' mind as if he was whispering into his ear,

"For a millenia, the Sith have manipulated civilizations, creating enough chaos to keep the Jedi busy and stretched to their limit. The Rule of Two allows the Sith to become immortal beings; we wield ancient power the Jedi have long forgotten. The power of Two Sith is greater than that of all the Jedi."

As soon as he finished speaking, he spun on his heel in a twirl, his robes whipping through the air, his blade snapping out at Darth Noxus horizontally.
The apprentice stepped back, parrying the attack and spinning away, jumping up the concave pyramid of the chamber to gain the height advantage.

But Erebus was still once more, his weapon now pointed at the floor. He was looking up at Noxus, and both watched one another in The Force.

"Jedi and Sith have trained their students in similar ways for centuries; Meditation and lightsabers are just the beginning of the similarities between our two traditions. One of the most basic tenets is not to trust your eyes, for they will deceive you. This is very important in lightsaber combat. A simple feint cant be the end of you. There are many combat maneuvers that are designed to trick the opponent, luring them in."

He leapt up towards Noxus, rocketing forwards, blade pointing at Noxus like an arrow. The apprentice dodged out of the way off-balance on the steps. As Erebus landed beside his student he spun on his heel and drove his elbow into the younger man's back.
Noxus cried out in pain as the blow threw him bodily down the steps. He tumbled to the bottom, but rolled to his feet, weapon in both hands, at the ready.

Erebus now looked down at his apprentice, and said, "Feel the pain, embrace it, use your frustration. Draw it in and use it to your gain."
Noxus realized his teacher was right. He was trying to study his Master's moves, trying to anticipate what he would do, instead of focusing his own power and allowing the Dark Side to increase his speed, reaction time, and precision.
He swallowed, sweat forming on his brow. He gripped his blade in both hands, pointing it towards his Master.

Noxus couldn't tell if his teacher was frustrated with him or just letting his passion show, for now Erebus was speaking boldly, his voice ringing out loudly,
"A Dark Lord of the Sith does not defend himself in combat unless he is outmatched! If you are going to destroy your opponent, you must overcome them!"

The Dark Lord raised his free hand, closing it slowly into a fist as he spoke,
"Lay a trap for your foe. Give them the opening they are searching for, then steal their victory from their grasp. Use the power you are given!"

Noxus drew energy from his pain, the stinging bruises fueled him, and he lunged forwards, swinging at an oblique angle at Erebus, who pivoted and spun his blade in a riposte. Noxus pushed forwards, thrusting at his opponent.
Erebus was a whirl of dark robes and crimson light, an impenetrable blanket of fabric and energy.
To those viewing them, lightsaber duels could be compared to a dance. Sometimes a graceful one, sometimes a brutal, violent one. But for those fighting, the battle would be best compared to a high-speed game of Dejarik, with their own lives on the betting table.

Erebus seemed as if he was about to speak, but then he suddenly froze, turned his head, and looked off into the space outside.
Noxus stopped, frowning in confusion. Then he felt it too.
A powerful dark presence, very close.
Too close.

Erebus said, "Whoever it is, they know we're here. He's concealed his presence well but now he's too close to hide himself entirely..."
Noxus was alarmed and confused as to who this being was, and asked, "Do you think he is in the station?"
If the apprentice could see the Dark Lord's face, he would have seen the smirk of mild amusement on it when he replied,
"More than even that, my apprentice. I think he is in the room."

[Isaac]

Maladict's concentration had slipped for the barest fraction of a second, when he'd come across the two men duelling each other in the depths of the station; he'd been expecting to find him, but instead he'd been disappointed and discovered something he hadn't thought conceivable; two Sith, neither of them the one he sought. The thought that Kroenen could be struck down without Maladict feeling the shockwave of that event cascading down on him through the Force was laughable. That the Dark Lord of the Sith could have died of old age was even more so.
So who, then, were these two Sith before him? Their very existence flew in the face of everything Kroenen had come to believe in, therefore Maladict saw little purpose in trying to connect them with his one-time ally. So many questions, so many new possibilities...
And they'd discovered him. Both Sith were wielding lightsabers, and both were proficient in using them, for Maladict had just witnessed the better part of their sparring session before realising himself that his barrier had slipped; he was radiating the Dark Side as readily as the black holes surrounding the station. The younger of the two was easily identifiable as the Apprentice; Maladict sensed great strength within him, untapped potential and great cunning, but he also knew he could swat the boy aside with a mere thought. He wasn't the problem; it was the other, the Master. Maladict once believed that the only being in the universe who could match Kroenen's presence within the Force was himself; now, that belief was challenged by the presence of this other Sith Lord.

It was a tense situation; Maladict decided to step from the shadows, seeming to form before Erebus and Noxus like a phantom, shrouded entirely in black and crimson, masked and silent.
Then, with barely a gesture, he disarmed the Apprentice and dragged the boy forward, placing him between Maladict and the Sith Lord, slowly crushing the life out of him. He wanted to see the Master react, to see whether the Apprentice was as disposable as Maladict predicted, and to see if he'd tip his hand by revealing as much for his Apprentice to hear.
"The Rule of Two is a lie" Maladict decided out loud. "One cannot embody power absolutely if he is not the sole Master of the Dark Side".

Lesser beings would reveal to this Sith Lord that the millennia he'd spoken of, where the Sith had hidden themselves away, numbering only two, weaving complex plots to one day overthrow their enemies in a petty display of one-upmanship, were infact as much a lie as the Rule of Two itself. The Sith had never gone away; for thousands of years, ever since the Cold War, the remnants of the Sith Empire had remained dominant in parts of space unfettered by the Republic and it's succession of regimes. Maladict, however, held no desire to enlighten the Sith Lord. He hadn't travelled a century aboard a ghost ship to find himself contested in a war of wills with a Sith that had escaped the net; if the Sith Lord didn't attempt to strike Maladict down, then Maladict would find a way to use the situation to his advantage.

But if the Sith Lord tried to bring Maladict to heel, then conflict was inevitable. In some part of the ancient Sith's awareness, he knew it would probably come to that.

[Trenton Vinh]

Erebus unflinchingly watched as his Apprentice had the life crushed out of him.
Noxus struggled for breath, gasping and choking. His fingers clawed at his throat, but it was not the only part of his body being constricted by the Force grip that suffocated him.
His legs curled up instinctively as his organs felt the pressure, intense pain rippling through his body in dark waves.

Noxus' own power was fading, he struggled to bring the Dark Side to his aide, but he had no oxygen, no energy. He managed a short gasp of breath before his throat tightened once more. His Force vision was blurring...

Erebus spoke to the man slowly killing his apprentice, looking over the boy's shoulder at the intruder,
"It would be foolish to assume that there could ever be just one practitioner of the Dark Side. As long as Force Users exist, there will be those who walk the darker path. Very few of them truly understand it, however."

His black eyes blazed with crimson fire, his hatred and fury fueling his power. His power built as he felt his Apprentice's fear as he neared unconsciousness.

"You are an ancient being, older than even I. But that does not mean you are more powerful; nor are you more deserving of the title Dark Lord of the Sith. Hundreds of Sith Lords once roamed this Galaxy, and some believed they could work together to destroy the Jedi. They were wrong, and died because of it. The Rule of Two may imply that there are only Two Sith in existence at any one time, but it is also in place to keep the surviving Sith from banding together and weakening themselves by doing so."

A Sith war was the last thing Erebus wanted right now, but he was being challenged here, tested. His foe was gauging him, his power, his wisdom...his will.

He had enough of it. He was a Dark Lord, and not one to toy with.
With a thought, Noxus was sent hurtling to the side, slamming against the transparisteel viewport that enclosed the domed room. The boy made no sound as he dropped limply to the floor, consciousness now gone from his body.
Erebus paid him no heed; if the boy was to die, then he would find a new apprentice.
His plans would come to fruition without the boy.
And this Sith before him, while a mystery to Erebus, would not keep him from achieving his goal.

"If you have come to this place seeking to discuss the Dark Side and the Sith, than you should leave the child out of it. If you are here seeking conflict, than you may find yourself in a deadly situation."

The Dark Lord still held his lightsaber in one hand, and the other was curled into a fist, sparking with electricity and pent-up Force Energy. His eyes had returned to the black hue that matched the massive gaping maw of the black hole mere kilometers above them. It seemed to grow larger as if it fed off the Dark Side power emanating between the two Sith Lords.

[Isaac]

Maladict listened to the younger Sith, and for a moment even considered diffusing the situation before it got out of hand. But doing so would concede the idea, in the other Sith's mind, that Maladict was infact the weaker of the two. He had no interest in power-play at this point, infact his only concerns were with finding Kroenen and stopping him once and for all. Perhaps he could use this new Sith to his mutual advantage. First, though, he needed to know if he was strong enough to go against Kroenen.

He didn't draw his lightsaber; he'd always found the art of lightsaber combat to be impractical to those who commanded the Force, though considering their popularity among both the Jedi and the Sith, and the immense concentration it took to properly tune such a weapon, he did keep one on his person at all times. His first weapon of choice was the Force, that he'd spent years crushing to his will, bending to his domination.
"Yes, I am older, and yes, that doesn't mean I am more deserving of the title of Dark Lord of the Sith" Maladict agreed, thrusting his arms out to either side, palms facing the floor. "Take the title if you so wish, it is an immaterial thing that commands the respect only of those too weak to understand what true power means".

His fingers barely flexed as violet lightning arced between them, then gathered in his palms and erupted into the floor. The entire surface was suddenly ablaze with unnatural energies, pylons of lethal lightning grasping and groping through the air between Maladict and Erebus, as if seeking life to extinguish.
"But if I am to concede power to you, I need more than just your assumptions. I need proof!"
And then the entire station seemed to explode, a Force-fuelled hurricane of lightning and telekinetic energies seeming to rip at the very bulkheads around them, the strobing light fighting against even the dimming effects of the blackholes beyond the viewport.
Maladicts aura seemed to pulse with anticipation; he wanted to see what this Sith could do, wanted to see how the Sith had evolved absent the restrictions of the old Sith Empire.

He wanted to meet his match, and turn it on Kroenen.

[Trenton Vinh]

Erebus managed to remain still, rocking on his heels with the buffeting station, while Noxus bounced and rolled on the ground, still gasping in pain from his crumpled throat.
Erebus was surprised the younger man's neck hadn't snapped -- his apprentice was lucky to be alive.

No. If he wanted Noxus dead, he would have swatted him aside. Noxus is strong, but cannot control his power like this being can.

He felt the power radiating from this Sith, steadily growing. It felt like the room had dimmed, the darkness so strong it was becoming palpable.

Lord Erebus frowned, his brow furrowing as he penetrated the Dark Side's depths and explored the power before him.
Erebus began to drink it in, allowing it to fill him, exhilarating and deadly, power in its purest form.
The Dark Side rippled through the asteroid base, lightning crackling through the space outside the massive viewport overhead. Flashes of white light outside made Erebus' black eyes shine.

For a moment, as his fury grew, Erebus contemplated the power he was drawing on.
A common metaphor to aid in building one's power was comparing it to a fire. It starts with a spark that one builds until its an unstoppable inferno of Dark Side Power.
Erebus was a being that extinguished light; devouring it in his smothering darkness.
The closest metaphor he knew was the gaping maw above them, the giant black hole that was only one of many in the Maw Cluster.

The Dark Lord gathered his power in the depths of his core, like nuclear fusion at the heart of a star. His hatred was a hydrogen atom, heated carefully to boiling temperature by his discipline.
He pushed his immense power down, crushing it into the singularity at his core. The Dark Side longed to be free, to explode outwards in its brilliant power and destroy all in its path, but Erebus kept it down, crushing it down more and more.
A black hole was said to deform space-time, some believed it was a hole in the fabric of reality.
Where many Dark Siders gathered their power and let it explode, Erebus did not. He raised his arms, hands splayed wide out from his body. His eyes now seemed to swallow the light from outside the shaking station, and the gaping black hole seemed to fluctuate in delight, sniffing the immense dark energies it so longed to devour.

The supernova of building power he wished to unleash collapsed into a black hole, suddenly pulling all the dark energy around Erebus inwards, dragging it in mercilessly.
Noxus was struggling to his feet now, the incredible powers heating his flesh. He was feeling the power too, and his Dark Side energies were drawn in by Erebus, along with the power of the Force Nexus around them. Even the Sith across from him would have his powers drawn in if he couldn't fight it off.
Being trapped in the gravity well of Lord Erebus' power, it was difficult not to be pulled in beyond the event horizon.

The power was truly palpable now; two Dark Lords of the Sith drawing upon their full power in a sanctuary of the Dark Side, amplified by the power of the location.

"Call me Erebus." He bellowed over the cracking energies, and then his head tilted backwards.
Noxus, blind as he was, looked up in shock, his mouth agape in surprise. The Dark Lord raised his arms towards the massive black hole above, and he unleashed his power, feeding the massive black hole with the tantalizing energies it had been craving. He drew on its incredible hunger, and felt it within himself as well.
He was starving to unleash this power upon the Galaxy, and soon he would.
But first...

The black hole was feeding off his power, but he was not giving it away uselessly. Pouring power into the black hole allowed him to alter the boundaries and fluctuations of the singularity.
His power was now feeding off of the black hole in a way. As it ate away at the universe around it, he manipulated the event horizon with the Dark Side, pouring his dark energies into precise spots around the mouth of the beast.
And the black hole was reacting. It shuddered and began to grow, its diameter increasing, as it ate faster, incensed by the Dark Side.
Erebus reveled in it all, the pain of his exertion ignored as he lost himself.
The station was now shaking more -- the shifting and now the gravity changed caused by Erebus' manipulations of the black hole was knocking it off course. It would spiral out of its position in the center of the black holes and begin its long slow fall into one of the patiently waiting mouths surrounding it.
Noxus was tasting the power now, lightning bursting to life at his fingertips. He cackled madly, drunkenly overwhelmed by the potent might of the Dark Side.

The black hole continued to grow, and the light dimmed even more. The maw of the hole filled the viewport, all above was blackness.

Noxus said aloud softly, "Crush the darkness until it swallows everything else up..."
He was pondering the Dark Side itself, and was at an essential part of his learning. Understanding the nature of the Force and the Dark Side was key to becoming a powerful wielder of its powers.
He wasn't sure if Erebus would continue to grow the black hole until it swallowed them into its crushing depths, but he felt no worry; the Dark Side was exhilarating him far too much for him to fear death.

Erebus almost seemed to be swallowing everything up around him now. The air was pulling towards him, causing Noxus' robes to whip in his Master's direction, as dark spirals of energy rippled around the room before disappearing into Erebus' dark eyes.

Then it all shuddered to a stop. The black hole receded slightly as Erebus lowered his arms and released a heavy breath. He sagged slightly, tired from the exertion. He hadn't exerted himself that much in a long time. But it always came at a cost. He smiled grimly, knowing that the Dark Side was a path that demanded sacrifice.
He took long slow gulps of air, his shoulders rising and falling.

The station leveled out slightly, stabilizers firing automatically. But the damage had been done -- the station was moving slowly out of place. Erebus did not regret that, he would be leaving the station soon if he was to pursue his plans on Coruscant.
He was satisfied; this had been a test of power for him. He had theorized and studied the powers of The Force and its effects on nature, and now knew he could control it as he could any other Force Power. He felt like a God, he could unleash the power of a black hole. He had the power to crush stars...

[Isaac]

When silence descended once more upon the station, Darth Maladict felt with certainty that he'd met the true Dark Lord of the Sith, the rightful heir to the accumulated power of all those that had come before. If given the proper tools with which to expand his power... this Erebus would be truly unstoppable. For the first time in over a century, Maladict felt something close to fear, but it was overshadowed by pride and triumph.
"Truly you are exceptional... Erebus" he said, folding his arms across his chest. His blank visage turned upon Noxus for a moment, as if he were going to offer some form of praise or wisdom for the young apprentice; none came. Instead, he turned back to Erebus, and made the slightest inclination of his head, akin to a respectful bow but not quite so submissive. "I am Darth Maladict. I anticipate that someday quite soon, our plans and passion for conquest will dictate that we turn our power upon each other, so that one of us may be destroyed" he said plainly. "It will be quite interesting to participate in such a battle. In the meantime, however, my accidental discovery of your hidden station could work to our advantage".

He gestured beyond the room, to the viewport and the blackhole and beyond. It didn't matter where; Maladict knew now that the Dark Side had seen fit to lead him here for a reason, rather than dropping Kroenen right into his lap. Whether or not Erebus would be compliant, Maladict was meant to meet him.
"You are not the Sith I came here in pursuit of. There is another, a being of considerable power... not unlike yourself, I would surmise. He is both the festering heart, and the scheming executioner, of the now-annihilated Sith Empire". He paused, wondering what Erebus would make of this information; perhaps Kroenen was well known to the galaxy. Maladict had no way of knowing, though he doubted Kroenen would be able to hide his Sith identity if he was well known. Therefore, it was more than likely that Kroenen had resorted to hiding, as seemed to be the way of the Sith in these parts.
"I warn you of Kroenen, for if he discovers your existence, he will stop at nothing to eradicate you. He preaches the ways of the Sith, yet would consume everyone and everything imbued with the Dark Side in his bid for personal power. And do not underestimate him; old he may be, but he has the wisdom to accompany his great age. He will turn your passions, your power, against you, before destroying you". Maladict paused again, his blank mask looking now at the scorched, beaten floor between himself and Erebus.

"Whatever your plans" he said, in a low voice, "they will be better safeguarded with Kroenen removed". He looked up again, and stepped forward into the dim light, so that Erebus may see into the empty eye-sockets of his mask, the darkness bound inside the armour. Perhaps, then, he would understand the danger Kroenen represented.

[Trenton Vinh]

Erebus was not sure what to make of what he was hearing. His apprentice seemed to have decided he wasn't going to be killed, and remained out of the way to silence the wailing alarms echoing through the station.
Sightless as he was, Erebus peered through The Force and saw the merest essence of a being; powerful as it was. Darth Maladict was a ghostly being, a smoky concentration of power side power in a shell of armor.
Erebus was not sure how to perceive this being, as if he had been holding himself to the Galaxy, refusing to leave his consciousness despite having no physical body.
There were countless anomalies in The Force, it was impossible for anyone to fathom the mysteries of the all-encompassing mystical energy. This was one of them, something powerful and dangerous and potent.

He spoke, "The Force willed for us to meet, our paths would not cross by mere accident. I have a great act I am destined to accomplish, and the time to act is nearing. Your arrival comes with a warning, and the being that you speak of...I had heard whispers, nearly ten years ago now..."
Erebus broke off, looking off to the side, his pale tattooed face appearing skeletal in the dim light.
"He cannot stop me now, but if he is as powerful as you say, he will sense me when I..."
He stopped once more, frowning. Erebus seemed to be working out the problems in his mind, trying to think several steps ahead, altering his future plans.
Finally he looked at Darth Maladict and said darkly,
"My time on this station is done. It is time for me to begin the final preparations. I will prepare for Kroenen, but until I can learn more about him I must continue with my plans. The time is so very near."

Noxus heard and nodded, heading to the turbolift to begin the preparations. He had to gather some materials -- and retrieve Lord Erebus' lightsaber from the chamber in the center of the asteroid.

Erebus waited until his Apprentice was gone to ask Darth Maladict,
"Did Kroenen do this to you?" inclining his head towards the Sith Lord. Darth Erebus had to know about the Sith Lord that would no doubt discover his existence soon, and begin planning to destroy him.

[Isaac]

Maladict nodded his head once, though hesitantly.
"He... deceived me into doing this to myself" he said, seeming to have come to the realisation for the first time. "Learned am I, in the arts of Alchemy. Kroenen knew this, and fed my fascination with the subject. As I stated... he will turn your passions, your power, against you".

He wondered, with detached curiosity, what new ways Kroenen would come up with to try and destroy Erebus. His methods, while seeming to play to his own strengths, were infact dependant on the strengths of his opponent. He'd witnessed Kroenen wage a war of Battle Meditation, allowing his enemy to reach the apex of his influence, before feeding from such raw power and turning the battle in his own favour, reducing elation and morale into despair and redundancy.
He'd watched Kroenen writhe in pain and futility under the Force Drain of another Sith Lord, only for their positions to reverse when the other Lord discovered Kroenen was using the Drain as a feedback loop in order to leach away his opponents life.
And, of course, he himself had fallen victim to Kroenen's treachery; convinced by Kroenen to practice the art of Spirit Transference, without realising Kroenen's proficiency in sorcery had grown to a point that he could bind Maladict's spirit to his own armour.

"I wish you good fortune in your plans, Erebus" Maladict said in parting. There was nothing more to be said; Erebus knew of Kroenen, but regaling him with past tales would do nothing to strengthen Erebus at this point. Soon enough, the young Sith would either seek out Kroenen, or be hunted, and then he would face the man and see for himself the true dangers Maladict spoke of. "Perhaps, once they see fruition, I will be able to physically witness their aftermath".
With that, Darth Maladict returned to the shadows, and to his crumbling vessel, departing the station as it slowly sunk toward the black hole, skewed from it's position by the display of power between himself and Erebus.

Maladict had matters of his own to take care of, and those included Kroenen. Yes, he'd brought attention of the man to another Sith Lord, one more capable of ending Kroenen's reign, but he couldn't afford to lay all his plans in one person. And Kroenen wasn't the extent of Maladict's concerns; now that he'd returned to civillisation, it was difficult to dismiss the opportunities presented to him, and even harder to ignore the calling of the Dark Side. Things were about to be set in motion, and when the time came, he intended to be an integral piece of the puzzle...

[Trenton Vinh]

Erebus' eyes narrowed at the idea of another Sith Sorceror powerful enough to do what he did to Maladict. Clearly they had been dealing with dangerous arts, potent powers.

He offered for Maladict to follow him to the other side of the chamber, housing a sealed shelf.
"You have imparted wisdom upon me, so I will offer some of my own."

Regarding the husk of a man, Erebus waved a hand, and the Force-activated lock clicked. The shelf doors slid apart to reveal a trio of Sith Holocrons.
Erebus studied them for a moment, and raised a finger at the middle of the three,
"That one is the Holocron of an ancient Gen'Dai Sith Lord, Darth Eitan. His species is very long lived, and he sought to live forever. He worked for over a millenium to develop a ritual that can imbue the life essence of one in another. It might be able to aid you...if you wish to return to a more physical body."

Darth Maladict had probably tried to find ways to reverse his curse, and Erebus said softly, "I recovered the Holocron years ago, when I was foolish enough to crave immortality. Then I grew wiser, and I realized that the body is a shell like any other. What we do with the shell while we have it, is only relevant to us in the end."

He felt a pulse in the Force, and tilted his head, lowering his blind eyes to the floor.
Darth Noxus had retrieved Drake Paladin's lightsaber from the core of the asteroid base. The heart of the Force Nexus he had cultivated here.
But this asteroid base was not to be his tomb, and he would cultivate another Force Nexus in a better location someday.
On his wrist, his holopad beeped gently -- the ping to tell him the recon probe had arrived in Kessel space.

Perfect timing.

He said to Maladict, "It is time for me to go. You may take these Holocrons if you wish. I am going to Coruscant, to finish what I started. You may follow if you wish to see me do what a thousand generations of Sith couldn't do."
Erebus headed to the hangar, where his Padawan had begun preparations for takeoff.
Their stealth shuttle, Scalpel was awaiting him with the ramp down. The hangar had been shaken up in the storm of Force Energy he had unleashed, and many crates and cables had been thrown about. Sparks spat angrily from many of the broken cables and a pipe spewed out blueish cooland.
Black cloak covering him, Lord Erebus boarded the ship that would take him away from the Maw, and towards his destiny.


*****


Darth Noxus rode the turbolift down into the bowels of the space station, down to the deepest chamber. He could feel the power of source he was nearing, shining like a beacon in the Force.
Even someone without any Force Sensitivity would have felt the malice, the undiluted energy, Dark Side power in its essence.

The lift rumbled to a halt, squeaking loudly. The station was in chaos; the twisting competing gravities of the black holes had been tugging it apart, grasping at the floating rock lustily. The station would be swallowed up by the black hole Lord Erebus had engorged with his power.

The doors began to slide open, but one grinded to a halt and stuck. Noxus gripped the metal with his hand and pushed, forcing it open and stepping into the hallway.
The rock walls glistened with condensation, the only light at the end of the hallway, in the center of the chamber.
Noxus swallowed; last time he had been here, he had lost his eyes. And he had seen his first Master proven a fool.

The old lightsaber of Lord Erebus, formerly known as Drake Paladin. This weapon had been kept here for years, and when Noxus destroyed his old teacher Raeph, he had earned the right to touch the weapon -- to use his Kiffar ability of Psychometry to learn from it.

The station shook and rumbled as Noxus strode down the hallway, entering the chamber and pausing. The staircase dropped down ahead of him, the round room had the pedestal sitting on its far side.

Walking down the steps, Noxus considered the weapon he would be learning from. It would certainly give him wisdom on lightsaber combat, as well as teach him the subtle lightsaber technique his teacher wielded.

It would offer insight into his descent into the Dark Side, teach Noxus where the incredible power of Erebus came from.

He stood before the weapon, looking down at the silver lightsaber hilt. The weapon was average length for a lightsaber, thinner than usual. The center of the hilt was transparent, showing the red crystal powering the blade. The pommel was encased in a transparisteel box atop the stone pedestal, a pair of black braces holding it aloft.
Noxus was nearly blind, his vision was a blurry mess of colours. But with The Force, he could see the weapon with more clarity than the naked eye.
He placed his palm upon the transparisteel case, and as it had when Erebus had first arrived, shattered it with the Force.

Noxus grasped the weapon in his right hand, lifting it into the air and turning on the spot. His mind melded with the object, and his mind flooded with images, and senses. He could smell fear, sweat, blood, burning. He could see fire, raging red eyes, white hot lightning, and death. Many deaths. He could hear laughter, at first quiet, then louder and louder, growing maniacal in pitch, then screaming, first wailing then echoing. He could hear voices, crying for help, calling for blood.

Then it was over, and Noxus returned to himself, and opened his eyes slowly.
He was laying on the floor, and he tasted blood. At first he thought the blood was a remnant feeling from the Psychometry, but then he felt he had bitten his tongue. The Dark Side tainted the object, tainted him for touching the object. Imbuing him with its deadly power. He felt...strange. Noxus began walking back to the ship. Psychometry allowed him to view the entire history of the weapon, and the mass overload of senses had been overwhelming. He would need time to filter in and understand it. Eventually it would all make sense to him, it was already growing easier to define what he had seen.

Drake Paladin had been a Jedi, he had fallen to the Dark Side for selfish reasons. But then he learned true lessons in pain and power, and was transformed. He grew strong, and as time passed, his strength grew into wisdom. Now he was a Sith Lord of nearly insurpassable strength. Power came from sacrifice of oneself, forgoing the easy path for one of great potential.

Noxus rode the creaky turbolift back up, leaving the darkening temple chamber for the last time. He had to stop at his chambers once more before heading to the shuttle to leave.
He had to hurry, he had the feeling Erebus was going to give him the most important lesson he would ever receive in the next few days...