Main characters:

Lord Styrakus, human, male, tall, muscular, corrupted...But highly cunning. Styrakus has a short beard and jet black hair, which is short and well kept. (named after the Dread Master by his master, who realized many similarities.)

Egan Vok, Chiss, male, average hight, thin, quick and light. He speaks quietly.

Major Tresser, doughty male, tall and average build.

Kethev Sych, human female. Assistant to Egan Vok.

Setting: The darkest cavern of Belsavis. Far, far below zero in temperature, with small heat pockets coming up and fogging the area.

Rain drips through the walls, which are covered in ice and moss.

Styrakus pushed himself back up. From behind him could be heard a scoff-- a definate male voice with a peeling tone.

"Six!" The voice yealped, the noise almost blending with the sound of wet gravel being tread upon underfoot.

Suddenly the darkness was perferated by a flash of lightning, and the overall silence quenched by a hard manly yell.

"Speak when spoken to!!"

"Ye-sss...My Lord..."

Newly appointed Dark Lord Styrakus Desolar was tired of the rough terrain, but that wouldn't stop him. Nothing would. In short, he was locked in an underground tunnel with a small company in tow, searching for something. Too many variables, his mind might think. Too many questions....why so many questions? That was a question in itself.

He nearly chuckled.

That might sum up his work in whole.

"No signs of anything...no life forms, not even any energy pulses." Reported a female voice with a thick Chiss accent.

"Yet it smells like something died in 'ere...." Muttered another voice, equally marked with an accent, this time Imperial.

"That would be the Major." Stated-- maybe retaliated, the former.

It was true. Sith lightning had its uses. But it deeply spoilt the air, which was getting thinner.

A flash in the darkness. But no shriek.

"Well...my....eureka...eureka indubitubly..." Obviously the voice of the corrupted Sith exclaimed.

There before them was what they had been searching for. In the vicious grasp of some charred skeleton, was clutched a small, primitive looking datapad.

Styrakus tenderly picked up the object, as one would inspect the scene of a delicate murder. His mood changed when he ripped out the mummified digits, and grabbed the datapad. Indeed, he must have been interested in the small screen, its rusted metal edges deteriorated over years-- possible centuries of rest in the tomb-like cavern.

The male Chiss voice suggested next, "We can take it back to base and have 'em search her. I'm sure your ready to get your information, my Lord."

"No." Retorted the Dark Lord, his tone almost frightnening. It was a mix of some vile moan and a deadly command.

The Chiss didn't need to hear it again. The way Styrakus had said it somehow agknowledged the darkness, almost marked, noted, detailed the looming shades, shadows that danced and spun about the few. It terrified some, it boosted others. Save for one. The Sith. In fact, Styrakus already was the darkness.

In a second, he activated the crumbling thing, with a burst of white hot lightnening. In sputtered and chocked on the thin air, then purred to life.

A face greeted the freezing party.

Upon the screen was a horrific visage, unlike anything the world...had ever seen.....

The Darkness was blinding...It hurt the young lad's eyes, it was so intense. It roared, twisted, grew taller and taller...Then like a sonic explosion, collapsed upon him. He was consumed in the blaze, the blaze that never sparked...

Styrakus flung himself forward-- no, more like his nerves flung him. His hand was on his iron dual-saber in a flash, but he didn't have the strength to ignite it. He was still in the nightmarishly dark cavern he had been in for weeks. He had already been briefed on what eye coverage he should wear when he came out, even though he knew he'd come out at night. The environment would still ruin his sight for a few days, but he assumed this was at least partly worth it.

His eyes fell upon the datapad, lodged in between two rocks.

Such a....delicate little thing...It could not possess me so...I am Sith.

He quietly approached it, the screen cracked and fogged. He wiped off its transpara-steel screen.

FLASH The object screeched.

Styrakus flew back, landing on his backpack.

"We're done here, now move!" Styrakus shouted as his cape swung to the side, revealing a newly sharpened shikkar. It's glassy hilt seemed to glow in the pitch darkness.

"R-right you aaaare....m'lord..." Trailed the voice of Egan Vok, his breathing impaired in the cavern. The team had been traveling for days now, and in fact time itself had seemed to bubble up. Styrakus' head was in shambles, a flurry of emotions perforating his normally calm demeanor. The-- now seeming to throb-- datapad that he had recovered in his search was stowed under his tight robes. The air was not only thin, but oddly muggy and humid from the underground lava rift that split the earth below them. Not a organic thing had been spotted in the darkness-- not a mechanical thing either for that matter-- but for all the small company could have know, they could fairly well be surrounded by snarling Akk hounds and vile Dread Touched demons. In a sense, what nobody knew, was what was saving them. No one had become outwardly frightened. Styrakus could sense the future changing.

"Double time it!! Sensors are picking up a life form inbound!!" Yelped the Major, almost on queue.

"Everyone down!!!" Styrakus yelled, even louder.

Instantly, the cave walls collapsed inward, in a barrage of rock, ice, and water. But....the cave sides stayed erect. Something was happening, and it wasn't good at all. The team was inside something more than a cave. More than a cavern. It suddenly felt like a pipe...

The rock.....it was black....like...frozen magma....how could Styrakus see? Light!

Then, like a lightning flash, Styrakus leapt up and flung the team forward, the invisible hand of the Unifying Force flinging them ahead. Styrakus landed right on his feet, sprinting like some exotic animal.

"This is no cave! We're in a pipe!" he yelled as he ran. The others seemed to keep up. "This tunnel was a highway for lava that shaped Belsavis! The landmarks that we know of today were created by a rift--" more rock tumbled down upon them, shredding skin and bloodying faces-- "This is that rift!!"

Something flashed. Through the metal pipe burst a robed being, bearing a brilliant red lightsaber. Styrakus took about a millionth of a second of time to deduce the assailant's goal, weakness, faction, everything. All the mathematic situations, combined with the fact that he was in a cave-- no, pipe-- surrounded by bloodied humainoids, he could tell this robed attacker was as he seemed to be.

The robed assailant chased the team on. He-- assuming this was a male by the build-- flung his saber forward and struck the calves of the Major, the heaviest and slowest. Mentally, Styrakus placed a hatchmark upon a wall. The Major tubled forward, then seemed to float back, as if he were being sucked back through a stream's current. His shrieks could be heard clear through the pipe.

Styrakus took the attacker's brief confidence and mutilated it. He leapt up, flipped backwards and around, threw his legs up so he was in a vicious spiraling motion, and used his strong arms, and outrageous momentum, to land his shikkar right upon the robed chaser's sternum. With the combined strength, his chest literaly exploded, in a supernova of blood and internal organs. The attacker had no time to scream before he was pummeled into the rock stream, where he was obliterated-- where he died.

Styrakus recovered by reversing the motion he just made-- the only difference being where he had a rock to vault upon, he used the Force to carry him further.

As he landed, he watched Egan Vok become mutilated and ripped apart by falling rock-- now projectiles. Everything he was injured by was merely superficial, but the pain would have caused more damage to him than the rock itself, and did little to hinder his speed. The gravel and boulders below their feet gave them traction and friction to launch off of and continue forward.

Hours went by. They continued--exhausted-- the three surviving members, rolling, launching, pounding, or sprinting ahead. Finally light was seen. Physically and mentally. There was an end to the madness.

Styrakus came to the edge of the shattered pipeline and jumped up to one of its two supports-- the piece of the pipe that they had been running in was only a section. The other sections were scattered along the snowy ground before them. They were at the surface of Belsavis....the only thing they would have to survive would be the jump. Styrakus felt for his datapad, the one he had found in the cave. It was still there, and he could feel its Force signature flowing through his finger tips. He grabbed Egan Vok by the belt loop on the back of his pants, and tossed his out carelessly, poor Vok shrieking and yelling as he feel out, a 100 foot drop between the shattered pipe and the-- seriously padded-- even deeper snow. He saw Kethev also-- she was equally battered. As he went to grab he and throw her out, Styrakus slipped and slammed into the pipe's shattered, spikey edges, maiming him in the leg, just enough to make him yelp. That was a rare noise. As for Kethev Sych, not a soul could say how she died.

Styrakus tumbled and landed in the snow. He had the wind knocked out of him, and he was instantly freezing, as his robes-- normally warm-- were shredded and open.

He panted as snow fell upon his soaked brow.

Styrakus leapt higher, poor gravity acting upon him as he flew higher. As soon as he began to fall back downward he came to a thin ledge that allowed him to rest upon. Only briefly.

"Faster!! Put your back into it!" It was the voice of Death itself. So vile and despised. Not by Styrakus, of course.

The sore, battered, bloody, and heavily scarred Sith looked down from his perch. Even the angle he was at, far above his Master, he still looked up to him, as if staring miles high. He was above Styrakus even when hundreds of feet below.

This was Master Desolar. Or, at least, that was his birth name. Born Tiberius Desolar, to unknown-- dead, yes, very dead-- parents, on an unknown planet, in an unknown time. Desolar (he always went by his last name, maybe Tiberius was his father's name) was an evil twisted Sith, more interested in the affairs of the Sith Empire than the...well, the things that lay beyond. His massive array of contacts graced his unrivaled mental perspective, and enhanced sagacity. He was known for his love of lore and torture, and he was often seen wearing an Imperial Uniform, or in disguise than he was seen wearing his traditional Sith garmets. Desolar was rarely kind, other than the rare raise in minute payment, or the peace of mind when he promised not to kill his associates mothers. And very, very, very often...did he lie....

"Master!!" Styrakus would yell over his panting. The injured Sith would leap out across a cliff face and plumit down the mountainside until he reached the lip of a conclave outcropping. As if on queue, his legs streahced out and sprung him forward, where he managed to steady himself in his near freefall. He thrust his saber, with a flick of the wrist, towards to opposite shore. Styrakus' Master would grab the saber that was thrown without having to move his arm. Styrakus would then hit the water as if it were concrete. With a crash and enormous splash-- more like a slap-- he would then be crashed into the conclave outcropping, a rock mess of fallen stalagtites and vicious sharp rocks. There, he would be mangled and torn apart.

An hour later Styrakus wound up on the shore, beached and bloated life some dolphin on the chafing sand. His Master walked firmly up to him and knelt, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Good boy...now get back up there and to it again-- I think I might have flexed my fore-arm a little bit. Can't have any more mistakes..."

Styrakus woke from his reverie. He was bleeding, very much, and his jerkin was torn and tattered. The Datapad-- oh, such a treasure, yet, oh such pain!! How heavy! And how much he loathed to ruin it. If it could feel it would be tortured, but...it could not feel. It had caused him to lose pints of blood and immense pain. But oh how much it was a treasure. How precious to him.

Egan Vok was beside the lupine Sith, grimacing and writhing. Vok was just as hurt as Styrakus.

"Do you have defrost button, Vok?" the Sith mused. Anything to improve spirits. They were more than likely dead, anyway.

I'll show you mine if you show me yours!! Vok wishes to say. He would love to mangle the poor Sith even further, in one of his own torture machines. It would be beautiful.

"Lets keep moving." Styrakus said, with much physical and mental pain, as he stood up. "I think I see light on the horizon. Maybe a colony out there...maybe a Republic Waystation...If the map serves us right..." He said aloud, to the dismay of Egan Vok, who was currectly expulsing the last of his stomach contents upon the crimson red snow.

"If the Republic is there, we can...." He paused to heave again, "Disable them...or...repossess the camp..."

"No. No. We'll blend. We'll be travelers who were hurt in the pipe explosion. We are campers, survivalist who were under the pipe for shelter from the snow, when a freak of nature caused it to crash down. We'll get help that way." Styrakus had switched to using the word 'are' instead of 'be'. This was the plan.

And Vok already knew it.

Styrakus drug himself up the hill, a hot and blazing mass of radioactive glass and rock, and thin, almost unnoticeable strands of half artificial, half mutant, grass. A beautiful blue sky was above, and a heavy star raged in its final battle before supernova above him. At least, it seemed that way. The star was giving off outrageous amounts of heat, and seemed bigger....maybe because Styrakus was far above the average survivable atmoshphere.

Desolar had brought him here for the first trial. The first challenge. The beginning of the end. The coup de grace.

Wearing a breath mask, Desolar had flown most of the way up in a thin speeder built for rugged terrain. He had many containers of oxygen waiting to be plugged into his mask, breathed into his lungs, supporting his ice cold blood, churned through his twisted heart, then plunged into the ever hideous form of vicious vocabulary.

"Run faster!"

"You cursed sewage valve, bleed!!"

"Wretched scum, you'll be tortured to oblivion!!!" And in this instance, the Master remained truthful.

Styrakus reached the top of the hill, now more like a mountain ridge, a foothill, a vain that ran and divided humanity-- and held his body up from the irradiated earth. He was bleeding more, which gave clue to his pale complexion, maybe the slightest bit green. He had no shoes on, so his feet were slabs of nerf meat. His hands were bare, and he often carried himself on all fours, so his hands were a bloody mess.

His soul head hurt worse...

His mind went into some survival mode...his brain wasn't living anymore. He was an organism of hatred, bred and fed on the souls of Chaos...He was no machine, and he was no organic thing...he breathed...he walked...but he had no emotion. He had no feelings. He was an animalistic shell of complete devastation. A factory of rage. A being capable of total annihilation. A tactician of genocide.

He was Sith!

Styrakus covered his saber in a thick fabric, then fastened it to a sheet of scavenged fetal, then stowed it in his shredded backpack.

"Vok, go up and scout out the ridge over there..." he pointed, "I'll be able to see you. Look back every so often and keep moving to the east. Just follow me."

"Of course."

Styrakus and Vok had both recovered, their wounds already healing (it had been a month since the leap from the pipe) and their bodies no longer bleeding. A colorful change between a black, a blue, a yellow, a dark purple, a black...then their regular skin tone, had created an odd whimsical feeling among both, as their bruises and cuts changed form. The only major injury that had occurred since their fatal leap was a twisted ankle on Styrakus, and a broken arm on Egan Vok. Styrakus had set the bone back into place with his bare hands, and bound the skin back together with the aid of his lightsaber and some spare kolto, then taken a bit of his own tattered jerkin and tied the wound in place. Vok disliked every moment, but it was only another step in their ultimate survival.

"Vok!! Your too far up!" Styrakus would shout, just as his reverie came to a halt.

"Egan Vok!!!" he yelled out again, an echo severing a piece of ice from a far of cliff.

Styrakus could see his warm breath in the frigid air. Vok didn't answer. He was still walking on.

The poor fellow must have gone mad...He's got to be freezing up there...how could he have come this far, yet go insane like...like this...? Styrakus thought. It was an odd event, but maybe Vok wasn't insane after all....maybe he was trying to...intentionally...run himself off the....

"Vok!!!" Styrakus yelled. An entire ledge fell off the cliff in the distance. Vok had to hear it.

"Get back here now!! That is an order!!!"

Egan Vok turned about and jogged back down through the thick snow, leaping of a little ledge and landing about five feet in front on Styrakus.

"What were you doing?!" Styrakus pressed the Chiss, staring at him in question.

"Apologies. I wasn't doing anything. I'm getting so used to hearing your voice I thought it was just me. Its nothing. I was just so high up the wind blocked your voice."

Impossible! Bah, he's a fool!! A madman.

Styrakus was puzzled, but wouldn't let this be the end. He intended to further deduce this turn of events far after their recovery.

"The Republic camp is just past this next sinkhole, about six miles..." said Vok. His voice was shaky.

"How did you know that? I saw you, you didn't even look at the map! In fact, you couldn't! I had it." retorted the Dark Lord.

"Oh, well...I was just...well, I'm sure its there. I saw it up there," he gestured to the hill "I used my brain to figure it all out."

That night, after a long silence, the two settled down. They made their small tent about four miles outside the Republic camp, so they would look worn out when they arrived (Styrakus intended to have Vok and himself run the whole way). And so they wouldn't be seen at night. They were behind some small arctic begetation that would block them from sight, even from the eyes of scouts.

Styrakus laid down and drifted to sleep, having one of his similar visions, then coming back into real time, and automatically putting his hand on his belt, where he felt along for his datapad, the one he had recovered in the cave. His hand drifted along his belt, Ah, flashlight, binoculars, goggles, ration capsules.... Where was the datapad...

Vok!