The One True Sith

[Darth Decepis]

A stretch of desolate space, outside of the Kathol Rift, present day

The Sorosuub yacht Raven belonged to a man named Dan Thrule. But who was he? A figment of the imagination? A story told to simple minds too afraid to look where no one should venture? It mattered so little anymore. All that mattered was that Dan Thrule was nowhere to be found aboard his yacht, though he departed aboard it two days prior from the Star Cruiser Dauntless with the Jedi Master Loklorien s'Ilancy. She too, was a figment of the mind's eye. A phantasm created by optimists and naivete.

There were only two. As it was. As it should be. As it always shall be.

Darth Decepis

Darth Acera

A Master. An Apprentice. Such is the way of the Sith, as it was for a millennium.

Now, Master and Apprentice wait at the threshold to a forbidden stretch of space, so filled with dread energies of the Dark Side that they must close themselves to its power, lest they risk losing their minds.



* * *


Standing at the yacht's console and staring into the maelstrom, Darth Decepis carefully plotted a course for the ship's autopilot to take. It is a set of coordinates he has committed to memory, from ages before. The only safe way through the rift, to the object of his desire.

"It is done."

He turned to Acera, yellow eyes contrasted against the shadowed cowl covering his twisted features.

"Are you ready to glimpse your legacy, Darth Acera?"

[Darth Acera]

When her Master had brought her with him, she had reigned in her curiosity. Refrained from asking him where it was that he wished to take her. He would tell her when he felt it best, and the Lupine was patient. Now, staring out at the roiling and twisting before them, she folded her hands together before her.

It was beautiful and deadly, and standing behind her Master, the Lupine found herself momentarily transfixed by the sight. She wished to call out to it, to reach through the hull of the ship and run her ethereal fingers through its' malevolence, but she knew enough to keep from doing such a thing.

Decepis' question cut into her thoughts, and gaze shifting, she looked up at him. Under his diseased yellow stare, she felt her ears tick back ever so slightly.

She turned the question back to him.

"Are you ready to show me such a glimpse?"

[Darth Decepis]

"One must have comprehension of what lies in store to ask this."

Facing her fully, Decepis commanded his Apprentice.

"Kneel, and prepare yourself. The mystic power of the Kathol rift is made treacherous through the unnatural embrace of the Dark Side. Power greater than yours or mine threatens to strike us down if we dare look within. Go within yourself, and remain there until we pass."

To illustrate that this was not simply a one-way command, the Dark Lord knelt parallel to his pupil, his yellow eyes closing as the Raven began its journey into the rift.

[Darth Acera]

She obeyed wordlessly, following his example and kneeling at his side. Her thoughts turned themselves inward to her own inner being, unwilling to stray beyond the physical boundaries of her body. Her head dipped, her eyes closed.

She did not ask how long their journey through the rift would last - it would be useless and unnecessary to do so. All that was required of her now was obedience, and she complied without question.

[Darth Decepis]

The voyage through the rift, filtered through the relativity of the Siths' meditation, seemed to last only a few minutes, when in fact the journey was easily several hours. Closing his mind off from the terrors that surrounded them, Decepis ensured they would brave the storm to the other side.

"We are clear."

His eyes opened at last, and as they rose, a single hellish image met them both. A planet, it's surface seemingly roiled in a sea of fire, lay before them.

"This is my purse world, Demonsgate. Here, you will find the sum of my acquisitions and conquests, and the legacy you too will one day inheirit, if you are strong enough."

[Darth Acera]

She stared at the scene before them, her eye taking in the terrible sight with silent thought. Truly, it was a great honor that her Lord had thought her worthy enough to share this new knowledge with her, and for a few moments the Lupine was speechless. She pulled in a long breath, clasped her hands together, and half-turned to regard him.

There was a stray thought, of how many of his previous apprentices he had seen fit to bring here, but it was soon enough brushed away.

Quelling the urge to reach out and lay an adoring hand to the side of his face lest she be subject to the small denial she had been given before, Acera merely looked at him before turning back to look at the planet before them; a place of fire and hate, hidden away in the nothingness of space.

"You honor me," she finally murmured.

[Darth Decepis]

"You will honor yourself, if you are able. There is a price to what you will see and take. It is your total dedication to my design for the galaxy. Do what you must, and you will be richly rewarded."

A knowing smile grew on his twisted visage.

"But you will earn it."

The shuttle descended into what some lesser beings might have called Hell. The corona of fire, a byproduct of ionizing gas from myriads of erupting volcanoes, gave way to a lower atmosphere of arid heat, but a patina of burnt orange daylight pushing through the smoke and fire above. As if the clouds were hoisted on columns, volcanoes could be seen in the distance, continuing to spew fire and ash, though their course took them away from the infernos.

The Raven landed at what looked to be another volcano's base. This one, however, was dead. With a hiss, the gangplank lowered, and Decepis exited, neither waiting for Acera or demanding her follow. She would do, or do not.

[Darth Acera]

For only a moment she had stopped at the top of the boarding ramp, staring out at the vista of hellfire and brimstone. She idly watched as her Master made his way downward, and without a word she followed. Her gait was steady; neither overconfident nor timid. It simply was.

His prediction that the two would reach a point where their minds would become so intermingled - so entwined - was coming to realization, and the Lupine Sith found herself inwardly marveling at him.

Placing one foot in front of the other, she started down. It was an odd feeling, the soot-stained rock and red sand that was now below her boots; she had been on ships for so long now that terra firma had almost seemed a myth. A nebulous concept.

Moving to walk just behind and to the side of her Master, Acera kept her curious gaze from wandering too far from the path upon which he led.

"You know already that I worship you."

It was as he had said before - she was meant to find life with him.

"Your desires are what I will fulfill."

[Darth Decepis]

He paused.

"To become truly powerful, Acera, you must learn to worship yourself. I will give you a taste of what you will become."

He walked towards what seemed to be a sharp incline, studded by a hardscrabble assortment of boulders which must have tumbled from the mountainside centuries before. Without so much as a pause or a gesture, the largest boulder dominating the ascent rolled aside with the ease of a child rolling a marble on the floor. The ground beneath them shook as the boulder was put aside by the Force, leaving behind a momentary rain of smaller stones.

Decepis let these rock showers pass, stepping forward into the murky abscess created by the boulder's passing. Deep within, obsidian statues of tall, gaunt, robed figures flanked a polished door. Sealed with arcane alchemies of the Sith, only his peculiar presence could unseat the heavy stone barrier. Stone ground against stone as the heavy door slowly slid upwards to reveal the way inside.

It soon became clear that this was no volcano at all, but a structure artificially wrenched from the earth through the Dark Side. Inside, vast and cavernous, lay the Dark Lord's holdings. All of his limitless wealth, objects of interest, and most importantly, relics of the Sith, slowly became illuminated by thousands of omnipresent red lamps which glowed with a dull hue, keeping even this massive venue a deeply intimate setting.

[Darth Acera]

She was struck, rendered motionless at the sight that greeted her. Coming to an abrupt standstill, the Lupine let her gaze stretch outward, taking all that she could see in with a hungry eye. She saw faint hints of red tinging it all, though it was not from any glowpanels or lamps - what she saw was the natural aura of the Force that belonged to Darth Decepis. All in here, all collected, were his. His mark was upon them, just as his mark was upon her. The barest of exhaled breaths escaped her lips, and it was all the Lupine could do to control herself, to keep herself in place.

She rocked back slightly on her heels, and closing her eyes Acera lifted her head upwards to scent the air.

It smelled old. Ageless. Closed in and open all at once. A weaving tendril of pride, malice, and timeless hate threaded its' way all throughout. Hints of anger, fear, and desire were detected, all wrapped in a blanket that was saturated in covetousness. All of these things came together into one encompassing scent, settling over and permeating all that it touched.

It was her Master's scent.

And ever so slowly, it was becoming hers as well.

Eyes still closed, the Lupine felt herself shaken to her core, to be in this cavern. To be witness to its' secrets and treasures. It made her feel as though she were home - on Schwartzweld - for the very first time.

Her hand went out to grasp Decepis by his arm as if her physical body was in danger of stumbling. Instead, she found herself craving his steadiness, the feel of his solid body to quell her reeling thoughts and ravenous emotions now awakened by this place.

[Darth Decepis]

"Come, Acera. I will show you knowledge you could only dream of within Schwartzweld."

Leading her on past troves of riches, statues, and artifacts, they came to a golden trough, sitting at the center of a wide open expanse at the center of the archive. The trough, sealed itself by a massive golden lid, was opened by the force, the two-ton covering floating to the side, where it was eased down with a thud

Within the trough were ashes. Powder-fine particles of soot and nothing more. Pulling the sleeve back from one of his arms, Decepis reached into the trough, catching a fistful of the ash, letting the soot trickle back down between his fingers as he laughed.

[Darth Acera]

With her mind still trying to regain itself, Acera had let him pull her along until they'd reached the trough. She watched as he removed the lid, his control over the Force setting its' massive weight to the side as if it was nothing but a piece of paper.

But, what was contained within was so completely unexpected that the Lupine knit her brow. Her gaze did not stray, and she stared at his hand, thin streams of ash slipping through the cracks in his fingers.

"I don't understand."

Strangely enough, her confusion stemmed not from the fact that there was nothing but ash and soot in the trough, but rather her bewildered glare was brought on by his laughing.

Carefully, she reached out to catch the streaming particles escaping from his hand, cupping her palm so that she was able to catch a small bit of it.

[Darth Decepis]

"Thiss...."

He held his handful of ashes before his apprentice.

"...thisss is the Sith!"

Decepis let his handful fall away to the trough.

"These ashes, they were once pages. A lifetime's worth of pages of the most forbidden knowledge, transcribed in secret from the teachings of the Dark Lord of the Sith before me."

With a secretive smile, he used the soot at his fingertips to draw a crude Sith glyph onto Acera's forehead.

"To understand this, is to look in a place no Jedi has seen. In their infinite hubris, they believed the Sith to be destroyed a millennia ago. The Sith endured, in a place the Jedi could not see, thanks to Darth Bane. With his teachings, the Sith flourished in the shadows so perfectly, they were only detected within your small lifetime."

[Darth Acera]

She gasped aloud as the power brought forth by the glyph invaded her mind; her thoughts; her soul. It seeped into every pore of her inner self, and rocking back as if struck, the Lupine stumbled as the weight and sheer strength of it all passed through her like a bone-shattering wind.

She fell to her knees, her small yelp echoing softly in the cavernous expanse of this stronghold, bouncing from one far wall to the other.

Acera looked up at her Master with eyes that were slowly overcome - as if poisoned by the soot that of the symbol he'd drawn on her, thin lines of black trickled through the whites, spreading outward like some cancerous plague and devouring mercilessly until all that remained were glossy blackened orbs, upturned to Decepis.

Her mouth opened, yet no sound came out as she found any energy she might have had to rise from her knees gone. All that she could do now was look up at him.

[Darth Decepis]

The vision was taking hold. Decepis smiled as she endured it.

"The rule of two. Master and Apprentice. One to crave power, and one to possess it. In time, the learner must always overthrow the master. This is the way of things. In time, you too will overthrow me."

Closing his eyes, he continued.

"In the beginning, Bane taught Darth Zannah, who destroyed him. Zannah passed the ways of the Sith to Darth Cognus, who repaid her with death. Cognus taught Darth Rath, who in turn also murdered his master.

In another life, I was Dan Thrule, a name you know, but a life you do not. I was the scribe of Darth Rath, the Infinite."

[Dan Thrule]

800 years ago

The first thing that Dan Thrule learned was fear in every incarnation. Even before he discovered the power of the force within him, he knew fear intimately. Chosen, or cursed, to be in the Court of the Sith, the scribe lived a life knowing that at any moment, his life could be forfeit at a whim of his masters. Like two binary stars, they sat above his universe, angry and limitless in their power. Darth Rath the Infinite, the Lord of the Sith, and his pupil and right hand, Darth Terminas. Secluded on the harsh world of Demonsgate, the old Sith Master had cloistered his sect and lackeys, locked in a decades-long exploration of the Dark Side.

Through the years as Darth Rath pushed the envelopes of Sith teachings old and new, he dictated to Dan. The teachings, years worth of them at least, would have to be compiled into books at the very least, or ultimately, a holocron - the final testament to a Sith's mark left on the galaxy, and the true accumulation of power.

Thus it was fear that Dan Thrule first learned. He then learned to bury that fear from sight, to keep his heart of darkness always obscure. It was only natural that the teachings of power beyond comprehension would inspire avarice and greed in the Scribe's own heart, limited as his knowledge was of that which he had access.

For years, under cover of darkness and with the possibility of detection always near, Dan worked in silence. He carried out the bidding of his Sith patron, putting away the teachings of the aging Darth Rath for posterity, and for his legacy. But this legacy he also transcribed for himself, stealing it away so that perhaps one day, he too could possess it.

Thus it was in the final days of Darth Rath the Infinite that fear again rose up in Dan Thrule's dark heart. The Dark Lord of the Sith was long in year, aged beyond any he knew, and yet his teachings were not yet complete. Dan's hunger for knowledge could feel the well beginning to dry, and a smoldering desperation settled on the scribe, as he watched the Sith Lord on his death bed in those final days.

[Darth Rath]

The end was near, and Darth Rath the Infinite, Dark Lord of the Sith and the Keeper of Bane's teachings, fought against death's embrace with all of the rage in his heart. Paranoid and desperate, he clutched his lightsaber close to his chest as he reached out through the Dark Side, scouring every inch of the cosmos for the last true facet of his power. The jewel in the center of his crown that dimmed the beauty of the rest by its absence.

Eternal life.

He clung to his years, of course. The unnatural embrace of the Dark Side could carry him far enough through means already known. At 150 years of age, he was far beyond the life span of his species, his twisted body raging against the ravages of time, but in the end, losing the battle.

Power!

"Gaaahhh!!!"

Rath gasped for breath, a bony hand tightening on his lightsaber as eyes undimmed by age still seethed with hatred as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Thruule...come closer..."

A shaky hand reached to the covers on his bed, pulling them closer around his middle, as his dread visage settled on his scribe.

"Write!"

Rath pressed a bony finger against the bound book that his scribe always clutched nearby. Thrule had exhausted over a hundred of them through the years, and Rath was determined to fill another with his short time, or to perhaps reach that final epiphany in these last moments to enable him to conquer death itself.

[Darth Terminas]

For so many long years, Darth Terminas had labored under the teachings of his Master, Darth Rath the Infinite. Labored under the yoke of the Sith Lord's merciless whims. He had learned everything that his Master taught, studied tirelessly. He would be the next to succeed Rath. It was his destiny.

Standing like a dread statue at the foot of Darth Rath's deathbed, the Sith Apprentice held his arms folded over his chest, watching every little tick, every little nuance as his Master approached his final days. He had only but to wait now - there would be no need to destroy the Sith Lord; age was doing that for him. For as eager as Terminas was, he shut his thoughts away behind an impassive mask that stared down at Rath.

His eyes did narrow however, at the beckoning of Thrule, and Terminas watched as the scribe opened his book in preparation.

But, his seething gaze soon enough returned to his Master, and Darth Terminas blinked slowly.

The time was drawing near; soon Darth Rath the Infinite would be no more.

[Darth Rath]

"Yooouuuu...."

Head snapping in an instant to focus his hate-filled eyes on his apprentice, Rath warned him off with an accusing finger.

"Back! Get back!"

Hand again clutching at his lightsaber as he sat up slightly in bed, the aged Lord of the Sith hissed.

"Now is not the time, Terminas. I am Lord!!! I am Master!!!"

[Darth Terminas]

There was no reaction to the rebuke, and Terminas remained where he stood, rooted at the foot of the ornately carved and extravagantly adorned bed.

Thin lips set in a straight line, the Apprentice spoke.

"I do nothing but ensure your continued existence, my Lord."

His voice, a deep bass, was low and malevolent as it seemed to fill the entire room.

[Darth Rath]

"Your lies are unbecoming of you, Apprentice! You wish me destroyed, to take what's mine! MINE!!!"

At the end of his life, the Sith only now understood. Without the final power of eternal life, he was simply the next in line. Apprentice usurps the Master.

Weakened somewhat by his rage, Rath panted a shallow breath, leveling the emitter of his lightsaber toward Terminas should he have any designs about fulfilling his destiny.

"Not ready. Not...ready."

He turned his eyes to the scribe.

"There is...one last secret to claim as mine. Eternal life. It's within...my grasp."

Baleful eyes returned to his apprentice.

"Terminas, know this. If you destroy me now, you will never know how to conquer death and live forever! Your body will wither, fall away, and rot, and you will not begin to taste power as I have!"

[Darth Terminas]

Terminas considered this, knowing that all his Master spoke of was true. But still, he could not help the cravings that every follower of the Sith had - to continue the succession, to continue the line... to destroy the Master. To become the Master.

To live for all of eternity was the one true, apex attainment for the Sith.

He dipped his head in feigned respect. Rath saw through the facade, and Terminas knew he did. His treatment of his Master by now had become simply habit. Habit without substance beneath to give weight.

Both knew this, yet both continued to play this farce until the endgame.

"I am yours to command, my Master."

[Darth Rath]

Rath, forced to dine on lies for want of terrible truth, pretended for now that Terminas wasn't scheming at this moment to murder him.

"What news from the Republic?"

Yes, small talk. Talk of the galaxy at large and the Jedi too ignorant to realize their deadly enemy still yet lived and plotted against them. Discovery always risked the real threat of annihilation, and the removal of their Sith Order from the face of history. They must be invisible at all times, and while this was tantamount, it was also a distraction Rath cast upon his apprentice. Give him another enemy to think of.

[Darth Terminas]

Terminas played this game. He had done so many times before, and now was no different. The end was near, he only need wait.

"It is the same as before. They think us destroyed and gone; wiped away from the face of the galaxy. Now they concern themselves with petty squabbling while their much-esteemed Jedi sit aloft in the Temple. It is a... "

His head ticked to one side ever so slightly.

"... quiet and peaceful existence for them."

His patience would continue to hold until Rath drew breath no longer, and while it annoyed him to discuss such a mundane thing as the goings and comings of the Republic, it was expected. A furtive look to the Scribe, and Terminas gave the man a minor frown. Thrule was almost more of a shadow to Darth Rath than even he at times. In the early days it had been enough to stir up deep wells of terrible envy; now his jealousy had changed to a simmering resentment.

He went on.

"They do not suspect that we still thrive. That you thrive, my Lord."

[Darth Rath]

"Our seclusion...will work to our advantage."

Rath gave a weary, knowing nod.

"I have forseen that our sect will flourish, Terminas. We will take our revenge upon the Jedi, and the galaxy at large. You will do well to follow my example. Observe your enemy well, and collect power from the shadows. When you strike, it must be complete and total."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the scribe taking notes, as he always did between anything of note being said. Good.

"The Jedi and the Republic are threads woven into a tapestry. Vast. It is vast. Patience will grant you the ability to find the right string to pull...in one motion it is all undone."

His breath ragged, Rath paused, momentarily closing his eyes, but quickly snapping them open, as if to test Terminas to see if he dared take another step closer.

"I am near to eternal life, Terminas. I feel it, as I speak, brushing against the fingertips of my mind. With this power, you will see forever. Uninterrupted, you will find the Jedi's weakness, and exploit it."

[Darth Terminas]

The first crack in his patience manifested itself in a small step forward.

It was Rath's admission of being so close to the secret of eternal life that fueled his Apprentice's black desires. Terminas gave an expectant look to his Master, willing the old Sith to hurry.

[Darth Rath]

"Be gone from my sight, Apprentice! I am too close for you to deny me what's mine!"

At last demanding Terminas be cast out, the doors to the Dark Lord's bedchamber flung open with the force, an audible exclamation point to his imperative.

He gave Terminas a grave nod.

"You can take of this broken body afterwards, if you believe yourself capable. But I must discover immortality, or you will surely fail!"

[Darth Terminas]

So many degrees of anger passed over his features that Terminus very nearly gave in to them all. He could so easily take the feeble life before him...

... yet if he did that he would deny himself the promise of life without an end.

He straightened up to his full height, an imposing figure that towered over all else. A glance back to the door that had flown open, and the Apprentice pulled his lips back in a snarl.

"Very well, my Master," he growled, as with a flourish Terminas turned on his heel to sweep from the room. The doors he closed himself, using the Force to slam them shut hard enough to send a thunderous crack all throughout.

[Dan Thrule]

For a moment, there was only silence. Not even the ragged sound of Rath's breathing broke the still. Dan, hesitant, eased forward.

"Lord Rath?"

Imperceptibly, the aged Sith nodded his head.

[Darth Rath]

"Scribe...a vision comes to me."

Rath's body stiffened, his eyes glazing over a bit as he stared unfocused at the ceiling.

"The life essence within...feeds upon strife...if there is no conflict to fight, no victory to take, there is no life."

His breathing increased, causing the sheets to rise and fall a bit more rapidly.

"The key to eternal life is eternal strife. To drink upon the discord of others, to steal the hopes of peace or a better day. Without an end, there is no means."

Rath reached a scrawny, gnarled hand upwards, as if feeling something invisible before him.

"...I can feel the turmoil in everyone. Everyone now. Even in peace, hearts are dark. Neighbor acts against neighbor. Even in the lack of a great war, there are trillions of small wars, even wars within self."

Another ragged breath.

"My heart, scribe! Feel my heart! It beats...stronger, do you feel it??"

[Dan Thrule]

The Secret of Eternal Life

Dan's pen pressed hard against his paper at the end of the last letter in the phrase. The pen began to bleed through with the pressure, but the Scribe was lost in his introspection. He nearly didn't hear Lord Rath's demand, and the Sith Master's gnarled hand surprised him when it grabbed his own hand, pulling Dan forward to press his hand against the Dark Lord's chest.

Dan didn't need to feel Rath's heart to know. He knew The Dark Lord's entire body felt a bit renewed, and Dan could feel the truth with a power within him that he'd nurtured in secret, fed from scraps of stolen knowledge he'd gained through his entire life.

The Secret of Eternal Life

The letters, he could still see them seared into his mind.

He had, as ordered, written every last bit of Lord Rath's vision down, committed to the record.

[Darth Rath]

Spent from his vision, the Dark Lord relaxed, his breathing again slowing as he fell back to his pillow. The ravages to his body that the march of time had wrought had suddenly stopped, right at the threshold. As he rested, he drew upon his discovery, stealing energy from conflict far and wide, keeping his life clinging tentatively to his withered body. The Sith Lord knew as long as there was strife, he could withstand anything time could do to him.

"Scribe...commit this wisdom to the ages. If it is my Apprentice's destiny to have what I've learned, it will be his, and in turn, passed on to all Sith."

Letting his fatigue take him, Rath closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

[Dan Thrule]

"It will be done as you say, my Lord."

Dan bowed to the Dark Lord as sleep took him, and rose from his bedside seat. He walked slowly to the door, clutching the book full of unnatural knowledge close to his heart, as he thought about Rath's revelation. He'd discovered the secret. It was perhaps the greatest quest the Sith had ever known, and after decades of cloistered study, Rath had unlocked immortality. Too feeble to defend himself from Lord Terminas, his life would soon meet a violent end, no doubt, but his wisdom lived forever...

...his wisdom.

The Secret of Eternal Life

Dan's feet held fast, just as he was about to reach for the door to leave Rath's chambers. Filled with greed in his dark heart, the Scribe clutched the book tightly against his chest, as if to will the writings inside to be absorbed through his skin. No...it was not Rath's wisdom. It was not Terminas' wisdom. It was his!

Dan looked down to the book, and opened it up to the exact spot. The pool of ink caused the pages to momentarily stick.

The Secret of Eternal Life

Resolving himself to take what was his, the sum of all the teachings of the Dark Side Dan had stolen yearned to him, and told him this was his destiny. The legacy of the Sith was more than that of Master and Apprentice. It was the legacy of the Strong. Those who craved power, held power, and could hold onto it forever.

UNLIMITED POWER!!!

Silent as death, Dan eased the book down on a pedestal near to him. Farther away, Rath stirred in his sleep, but was still again. For ten minutes, Dan stalked closer, careful to never make a sound. He crept upon Darth Rath like a shadow, swallowing the fear within that if he was discovered in this most crucial moment, he would be destroyed.

Rath's oversized bed easily held the shriveled Dark Lord, and a mountain of pillows to either side awaited his demand. With the most careful stealth, Dan reached for a pillow, pulling it away with near limitless patience. He could not rush this chance.

With both hands around the pillow, he stood over the sleeping Sith Lord. The scribe's face, unreadable for so many years as he stood in the shadows, smiled a mirthless smile. He could no longer withold his hunger for the power he could now taste. Now quick as lighting, he pressed the pillow firmly over Rath's head.

[Darth Rath]

"Y-!"

Rath's yellow eyes snapped open at the last moment in an accusing glare, but it was only a moment before the pillow was pushed over his head. Though immortal against the ravages of time, his body was still feeble, and unnatural death still a very certain threat. Suffocation would not take long in the Sith Lord's delicate condition.

Clawed hands reached up, striking Dan with raking bands of Sith lighting, though even this was atrophied and weak in his state. It only served to hasten his end. He shuddered, redoubled his failing strength in one last strike of lightning, and his arms fell to his side.

Darth Rath the Infinite, the seeker of Immortality, was dead.

[Dan Thrule]

Dan took the brunt of Rath's lighting, which only served to hold his grip fast over the instrument of murder. Even in the Sith's death, faint blue arcs of dark energy snapped across Dan's body. His stolen Sith teachings demanded that he take the pain, draw it in, and make it a part of him. It became, as well as every part of this moment in time, an exquisite experience.

Dan looked towards the door. The deed done, he must be careful now. It could all be undone if Darth Terminas suspected his treachery. Again, the first teachings came natural. Fear must be harnessed. Dan swallowed his fear, and concealed his dark deeds from the new Dark Lord of the Sith.

A smile.

So-called Dark Lord of the Sith. Without true Power, Terminas would only be a shadow.


Ten minutes later

Dan somberly opened Darth Rath's bedchamber doors, and stepped into the main chamber of the Sith fortress. Up a winding staircase, at a balcony with a view of the erupting volcanoes beyond, he found Darth Terminas, pacing about with impatience.

[Darth Terminas]

It was an insult, but no less unexpected - to be sent away. Darth Terminas had since found angry solace upon one of the balconies that overlooked the terrible fire-drenched land below.

Sent away! Cast out! Smoldering hatred burned in the Apprentice's soul, and he knew that his time was now. Lord Rath be damned. The old Sith would die by Terminas' own hand. He, Darth Terminas, would rise to the mantle of Sith Lord, and he, Darth Terminas, would discover the secret of immortality. Rath had grown feeble-minded, unable to see clearly the signs that he was shown.

It was the sound of the scribe approaching that pulled him back to the here and now. Snapping his head around to glare at the man - Dan Thrule - Terminas gave a thin-lipped snarl.

"What."

[Dan Thrule]

Dan bowed deferentially, returning to his guise. He had to become the shadow yet again.

"Lord Terminas, come to the bedchamber at once. It's Lord Rath, he's..."

He met the Sith Lord's eyes, saying nothing, but just slightly shaking his head.

[Darth Terminas]

There was no hesitation, and Terminas pushed past Dan to stalk his way through the arch, down the spiraling staircase, and through the great stronghold of the Sith. His rage was boiling over for no reason at all, and the Apprentice opened each door before him with a burst of Force energy that nearly tore every one from its' hinges.

At last he came to the ornately carved doors of his Master's bedchamber, throwing them open as well without care. Stopping just in the threshold, Terminus glared at the still form of Lord Rath.

Dan, who had followed him, was suddenly taken up by a hand at the front collar of his scholar's robe.

Pulling the scribe up to his toes, Terminas thrust his face close so that the two were inches apart.

"What. Happened."

[Dan Thrule]

Controlling his fear, Dan released some of it, letting it's very real nature work into his face.

"I...was taking notes during his vision. During some kind of revelation...he...he died."

[Darth Terminas]

There was a terrible moment of silence that followed Dan's explanation. It lingered between the two as Terminas' eyes seemed to flash a shade more yellow, the outer red-tinged edges becoming more pronounced. His nostrils flared, and with a great shove he pushed the scribe away.

His dread yellow gaze fell on the lifeless form of Lord Rath. Lord Rath who was no more. Lord Rath who had died unfulfilled.

Terminas smiled. Sith Lord Terminas smiled. It was a hateful expression that seemed to delight in the macabre sight before him, and striding forward, he stopped at the edge of the bed.

A hand was extended, and the dead Sith's lightsabre shot up, smacking into his palm. It was an exquisite thing; beautiful and deadly, a weapon fit for a Lord.

In a fit of triumphant anger Terminas snapped it in half, dropping each end back to the bed.

And then he laughed. It was a deep rumble at first, but soon enough it filled the entire bedchamber and the hall and corridors beyond.

[Dan Thrule]

Again, he was the shadow.

Dan retreated from the bedchamber in the moment of Darth Terminas' triumph. Terminas was now the Dark Lord of the Sith, after all. He would gloat over Darth Rath's weakness, and tell himself the old Master's failure was now complete. He would take Rath's holocron as his own, a vessel of knowledge that he would then pass to his apprentice, at the expense of his life. The cycle would continue unto perpetuity.

Dan stole away as Terminas ascended to the heights of power, to what he thought was truly the pinnacle of the Sith. He stole away to his servant quarters. There, hidden away from sight in a series of dusty trunks, were stacks upon stacks of worn-looking books. Inside, without any of the flourish or fanfare reserved for Rath's or Terminas' archives, lay the true wealth of the Sith - the full compendium of the teachings of Darth Rath. It was nearly complete, but for one part.

Dan opened the last trunk, and placed the last testament of Darth Rath within. His yellowed gaze looked upon his life's work, knowing he had at last secured for himself the means to unlocking all of his desires.

Let Darth Terminas have his triumph. Darth Rath was dead. There had been another death that day, gone unnoticed amid the passing of greater people.

Dan Thrule was now dead. His actions against the Sith Lords meant he could never live again.

In a filthy mirror in Dan Thrule's quarters, Darth Decepis smiled at his hate-stained gaze.

He was the One True Sith.

[Darth Acera]

Present Day...



Darth Acera pulled in a breath that rattled its' way through her lungs. As though she had been pulled from drowning, the Lupine sucked in ragged breath after ragged breath, her body contorting as her mind surfaced from the vision that her Master had given her. The sight of his becoming. Of his quiet, unseen ascent.

She felt muscles convulse, spasm into a waking state once more. How long had she been in Decepis' vision?

Her eyes, still black, were slowly beginning to return to their normal hue, but until they did, her sight would be limited. In blind panic, the Lupine reached up and out, her arms desperate to find purchase on anything, to steady her, to ease the transition she now made from the ethereal to the physical once more.

[Darth Decepis]

As his Apprentice struggled with sight, the Dark Lord of the Sith finished the tale.

"The ashes before you are all that remains of the writings stolen away in secret from Darth Rath. His line continued through the millennium, chasing power they could not possess. Lifetimes upon lifetimes, wasted in an empty pursuit."

He smiled, thinking at all who thought they could achieve what he possessed. They were all destined to be destroyed.

"Even Darth Sidious and his pupil, Darth Vader, the end of Darth Bane's unlucky lineage, have only hastened our victory, put our total domination of the galaxy firmly into our grasp.

Now you see the future, a galaxy controlled by two who know how to conquer death itself, and to secure power beyond any living soul's comprehension."

[Darth Acera]

Everything had been so clear, so crisp, so wonderful. Each detail of the past preserved and burned into her minds eye. Tinged in reds and golds, the Lupine drank deeply of the vision that she'd been given, marveling at the youth her Master had once been. The ragged and time-ravaged body of Rath, the towering monolith that had been Darth Terminas - it had all been so real, She had seen everything.

Everything that is, except for the moment. The Great Sith Lord Rath's epiphany. The singular point in time when Dan Thrule was given the secret. The secret of immortality.

With eyes of murky grey, Acera could only barely make out the form of her Master, standing over her. His voice reached her ears, and she latched onto it. She could not fully see, but she could at least hear.

She let him finish, staring up at the hazy figure above her, her body swaying gently as one hand still gripped the edge of the trough for support.

She closed her eyes, looking down and shaking her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. It had all been so much, yet somehow she craved more, and the Lupine sucked in a lungful of air, eyes once more returning to her Master as she finally managed to croak out a hungry plea.

"More... "

[Darth Decepis]

Decepis slowly nodded.

"Yes, there will be more."

He gave a faint, knowing smile.

"This knowledge, I have mastered for myself. In time, it will also be yours."

The Dark Lord made a slight and furtive gesture with his hand, and the pool of ashes within the trough began to slowly part in the middle. From it's midst, a vile red orb rose from the ashy bed, suspended aloft in the air for her to see when her sight returned to her.

It was the holocron of Darth Decepis. The full depository of the Sith's immense knowledge of the Dark Side.

[Darth Acera]

She was slow to her feet. In the wake of being subject to such Sith magics, the Lupine found herself weak. Hungry for more, but still weak. As she used the trough for support she passed a hand over her eyes in an attempt to rub the greyness out.

Minutes seemed like eons.

The blurred shapes in her eyesight came into focus with agonizing slowness, and with a half-lidded gaze to her Master, Acera kept her cloudy eye turned to him, settled on his dark-robed form. In such contrast with the youthful features she'd seen, what little she could make out beneath his hood was enough to give credit to not only the years that had passed him by, but the power he held over the Force.

But, it was the sight of the orb, seen from her peripheral vision, that arrested her attentions momentarily.

With her strength returning, Acera pushed away from the trough to stand unaided, gaze now locked on the sphere. A furtive glance to her Master, but no word escaped her lips. With a tentative hand, the Lupine reached outward, fingers outstretched.

Abruptly she pulled back however, suddenly unsure and sending a questioning look to Decepis. She did not want to overstep her bounds.

[Darth Decepis]

"You're not ready."

His grave voice darkened momentarily.

"My gatekeeper will find the darkness in your heart wanting. In time, the secrets within will avail themselves to you. Do as I command, and I will make you more powerful than any Sith has ever dared ascend. You will find no equal, but that day is not yet here."

And as if she had dreamed it, Decepis lowered the holocron back into the ashes, where it was once again covered.

"Do you know why I brought you here?"

[Darth Acera]

Watching as the holocron once more lowered itself into the ashes, Acera blinked to clear away the last swirling tendrils of grey in her eye. By now her sight had returned fully, and saw as the ash and soot once more pooled around the orb to submerge it.

At her Master's question, she turned a strange look to him. Full of awe, yet tempered with caution and laced with greed. The presence of so much history contained within this stronghold was enough to stir her own avarice - to claim as her own the ancient tomes and artifacts that surrounded them.

But to pull upon the inherent desires in every Lupine was not why he'd brought her here - surely not. To witness his beginning? Perhaps. To show her that which she was not yet ready to attain? Also a possibility.

Her voice, no longer hoarse and ragged, was low as she answered him truthfully.

"I... "

A look was cast about them, gaze sweeping the multiple lifetime's worth of wealth that he'd accumulated - both of the physical and immaterial.

"... I do not."

[Darth Decepis]

"This place is sacred. My life's ambitions have been collected here. It is a temple to avarice and to greed. Don't underestimate these two urges, they are the foundations upon which the Dark Side is built."

His yellow eyes narrowed.

"Your hate will make you powerful, but you will find limits in hatred alone. I want you to covet everything here, not for some insipid comraderie you might cling to and imagine that we share, but because it is what you desire more than life-giving air.

Only when you truly learn this can you destroy anything sacred and beautiful in the name of filling your desires."

[Darth Acera]

Insipid comraderie...

There was a part of her that stirred, that rose to the surface. For all that he promised, and for all that he spoke of, the Lupine felt a small degree of resistance - was he pulling away from her? In panic Acera felt her breath quicken.

"But our family... "

It was said in an almost terrified whisper. Her fear now was unexpectedly made far more real, and she had to keep herself from falling at his feet to beg in desperation.

[Darth Decepis]

"You still think so small..."

He seemed to stiffen at her fear, a look of disappointment on his face.

"The only thing that binds us to each other is our thirst for more. Discard that which makes you content. If you place some value in others, then raise them in your image or destroy them."

[Darth Acera]

Still she clung tightly to the ingrained desires of her people. Her nearly extinct people. Like a length of rope woven together by interlocking needs and wants, she felt each strand vying for fulfillment.

Children to bring her house back to its' full prominence, the power to cheat death and watch as her future generations spread out once more into the stars - these were but two of so many.

Tilting her head to the side, she took an almost aggressive step toward him.

"But the heir that I have promised you... "

[Darth Decepis]

"An heir will continue our legacy and rule over the galaxy for a thousand more years."

He interlocked his fingers together amid the loose sleeves of his robe.

"There is a reason for all things, Acera. Blood is a valuable commodity."

[Darth Acera]

For now, his words were enough to quiet her small rebellion, and Acera seemed to draw herself up. She locked eyes with him; with his yellow, diseased glare.

Emotions stilled, the Apprentice deferred to her Master. He had brought her here - showed her the most amazing of riches, let her glimpse of his past and his holocron - his teaching up until now had been passive. She had read, studied the ancient Sith alchemy tomes that he had given to her, he had allowed her to stretch the bounds of her own awareness while seeming to watch from afar, interjecting only when she called upon him.

But now, in this place, in this hallowed ground, she found herself at the precipice of something that went beyond all else.

Her breathing slowed.

He was waiting.

Eyes closing, Acera bowed her head in respect, her voice low and assured.

"I am ready to learn."

[Darth Decepis]

"You have been learning this entire time, Acera. I only seek to accelerate the process."

The Dark Lord turned to walk down the long corridor leading toward the exit of the mountain fortress.

"I have a new task for you. I sense the Jedi grow weary of running and are ready to make a stand. You must return to the Wheel and encourage them to attack their enemies. I will make overtures within the Alliance for increased cooperation between the two factions. Can this be done?"