"My Lord, we are arriving in the Jarck system and will make planetfall to Seraphim within the hour. Do you have any words for the crew before we arrive?" The Imperial pilot said in a polite tone.

The Sith Lord stood still alike a statue in the shuttle's cockpit, his cold yellow eyes watching the blue expanse of hyperspace travel in front of him. He remained silent, not uttering a single word as he turned his head to the woman that had just spoken to him. His expression was devoid of any warmth of pleasantness.

"The crew has been briefed before we departed, if that has been insufficient motivation for them it is their problem and not mine," he spoke, his voice a perfect mirror of his harsh demeanour. "I am expecting your focus to return to piloting this vessel, immediately, Private," He added in a colder and deeper voice, hinting at a threat that never had been said aloud but was carved into every word spoken nonetheless. It had its desired effect and the blond Sith Lord was satisfied.

"Yes, my Lord, forgive me," the pilot brought out hastily and did not move her head from the machinery in front of her anymore.

Lord Kosmarr, formerly known as Ryssius Lecyllath before he had assumed his Sith name, returned his gaze onto the blue expanse in front of him, that started making place for drawn out stars and eventually the rock called Seraphim. The planet would be less than pleasant to be upon, he was well aware of that, as the entire surface was scarred with volcanic activity and a thick layer of clouds filling the skies. Nonetheless, it was the price he was willing to pay for the knowledge and power that may be hidden within the ash-covered mountains. Lord Kosmarr namely had uncovered the planet's existence in ancient Sith texts he had been studying in the archives of Darth Saizen's estate, whose powerbase he was a part of.

The Sith Lord had uncovered the Sith had once attempted to colonise the wasteland of a planet that was Seraphim, believing they'd be able to master the elements of nature. Naturally they had failed, but not before learning the world was strong in the Dark Side of the Force. When word of it reached the Sith of the Old Empire, prominent Dark Lords had decided the black mountains of Seraphim would house their remains once their time would come. The first tombs were built a few years after the failed colonisation attempt and many more arose in the decades following. Yet when the Great Hyperspace War had broken out and the Sith suffered a terrible defeat at the hands of the wretched Republic and their Jedi defenders, the world became forgotten, as well as the names of the Dark Lords that restlessly laid within their tombs... until Lord Kosmarr had stumbled upon the tablet in Saizen's archives. No, he didn't stumble upon it, he was well aware of that. It was the Dark Side itself that had deemed him worthy of the knowledge and granted him this blessing. It was as he believed; the strong were blessed by the Force while the weak suffered its disfavour. His strength in the Dark Side was now being blessed, with the ability to expand his power in the Force by seizing and learning the knowledge that lay buried with the bodies of Dark Lords of the past.

"Entering atmosphere, systems steady. My Lord, if I may advise you to take a seat and fasten your belt? We will be facing a lot of turbul-"

"You may not advise such, Private, unless you have no desire to remain in possession of your tongue," the Sith Lord snapped at the pilot, interrupting her. "If you believe me to be a weakling, not capable of the simple feat of remain standing still during some pathetic turbulence, then please do tell me, so that I may correct the error that is your beating heart," he nearly hissed at her subsequently.

In response the pilot remained completely silent, cold sweat running down her forehead as she tried to hold back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. Kosmarr believed the sight to be a truly delightful one.

"Good. Maintain present course, Private." The Sith Lord stated in his usual emotionless tone, watching how they coursed through the thick carbon-filled clouds as the ship started shaking violently. It was not that he had something to prove by remain standing during the violent descent, it was simply that he thoroughly enjoyed being cruel and heartless to others, inciting them with the worst fears they could imagine. It was why he was skilled in the art of Sith Sorcery, spells of fear and dread being his favourite ones to use against his enemies and sometimes allies... if the situation required it. It was how he was shaping his apprentice, Irizar, forcing him to face his greatest fears in order to overcome them and gain strength, power... victory.

"Turbulence increasing..." the pilot broke through his contemplations, her voice sounded somewhat strained as the operated on the vessel's controls. "There is a lot of electrical charge in the atmosphere," she further commented.

The blond Sith Lord remained standing still, drawing lightly upon the Force to anchor himself to the metal floor of the cockpit. He remained silent as he started reaching out through the Force, dismissing the ship's sensors as inferior.

The very moment he did that however an image hit him, a surge of lightning hitting the shuttle and rendering it inoperable. The Dark Side... it was warning him!

"Private, move out of that seat now," he barked as he started moving forward, intending to take over control of the vessel himself.

It was too late however, as a bolt of lightning seered through the skies and went straight for the Imperial ship. The pilot let out a loud scream as the electrical charge went through the systems and burned them out in the blink of an eye. Red lights started flashing everywhere, sirens barely audible over the rumbling and screeching of the ship's hull as it went down into freefall. Lord Kosmarr's eyes burned with anger, hatred and... fear. For the first time since long he felt fear cross through his body, the dread of death, of an end to his existence. Once more he stood eye to eye with his greatest terror, the oblivion of death. In front of them through the window the black surface of Seraphim became visible and came closer rapidly with every second that passed. Lord Kosmarr's fears grew, his eternally emotionless expression now one wrought with dread... but it was exactly that which fueled him, which gave sustenance to his powers at that moment. His instinct took over, drawing heavily upon the Force as he anchored himself as hard as he could to the metal floor of the shuttle's cabin. Subsequently he attempted to seize the crashing vessel through the Force, trying to shift the angle of descent. He hissed, groaned and was overwhelmed with dread, the effort straining him immensely. His desperation was growing exponentially as the ash-covered surface of the planet was only seconds away from them, meaning certain death along with it...

"No... NO!" the Sith Lord screamed as he surrendered to the power of the Dark Side, in this last attempt managing to wrench the shuttle from its current angle of descent and forcing it into a less steep one. The hull was being torn apart by both the forces of nature and Lord Kosmarr's tearing, yet the crash that followed might have the chance of not being a lethal one to all of the crew. As the Sith Lord felt the shuttle was about to hit the surface, instictively he threw a Force Barrier around himself to help protect him from the impact... which ensued immediately after. There was an explosion of sound that rendered the blonde temporarily deaf, his entire world being shaken to its very core.

He lost track of what was up, what down, what left and what right. It didn't matter, there was only one thing that he cared about, one thing that fueled his power and effort through the Force... survival, at all cost if necessary.

What was actually seconds felt as decades as Lord Kosmarr poured all his emotions, of anger, of fear, of desperation, all of it, into his Force Barrier. He felt how exhaustion had forced itself into every single muscle of his body, how his head felt as if it was about to crack open. He had closed his eyes instictively and saw only blackness in front of him, not realising that the shutle, or better called wreck of a shuttle, had come to stand still. His body had absorbed so much of the quaking that it still experienced it while there was no movement at all... but it signified one vital thing: he was alive.

Lord Kosmarr slowly opened his eyes, the dark purple shimmer of his Force Barrier the first thing that he noticed,

the dead body of the pilot the second. The impact had caused him to assume a crouching position as he instictively had sought to remain anchored to the floor through the Force. Slowly he rose to his full height, taking the opportunity to sense his body through the Force whether he was injured or not. That simple act strained him greatly, as he had already drawn so heavily upon the Dark Side. Nonetheless, to his relief he remained unharmed except for a few bruises and small cuts. The pilot however could not say the same... her body was mangled and twisted into unnatural angles. It would have been a gruesome sight to anyone that was not Lord Kosmarr, but he had seen and endured far worse in his past as a slave.

"Good she's dead or she would have been smug about the fact I didn't manage to stand perfectly still due to the... turbulence," the Lord thought amused as he let go of the Barrier he was casting, the dark purple shimmer dissipating subsequently.

He looked around, taking note of the fact that the ship was a complete wreck. Dread seeped into his core once more as he was well aware of what that meant. He had ventured to Seraphim without telling anyone of where he was headed, not even his Sith Apprentice, out of fear someone would follow him to claim the prizes left behind in the tombs of the ancients. He had assumed he'd have a vessel to return with to the Empire, yet fate took an unforeseen turn.

"Has the Dark Side's favour abandoned me?" the cold and horrifying through burst through his mind as he took his curved-hilt lightsaber in hand with the intention to cut open the hull of the ship's cockpit, as the entrance to the main hold of the shuttle was blocked. The crimson blade emerged from the hilt and went straight into the metal wall in front of Kosmarr.

"Why has the Dark Side allowed me to be stranded here..." the Lord's train of thought continued as he manneuvred his blade through the metal hull, carving out an exit. "Have I not adored it, brought it glory through the deaths I caused and suffering I have inflicted?" His eyes burned with cold determination, anger but also fear at being rejected by the Dark Side. "Have I displeased the Dark Side?"

Eventually the crimson blade had reached the point where it had entered into the metal and Kosmarr groaned as he drew upon the Force once more to push out the newly cut "door" in a violent burst of energy. The metal hull landed several meters away in the ash, as the Sith Lord took part of his black robes and ripped it off, forming a protective cloth over the lower half of his face. While the atmosphere of the planet was deemed to be breathable, it would prove lethal over time... which was another worry that troubled Kosmarr. He disignited his weapon and stepped outside onto the surface of the planet and...

And all his fears, his wories and troubles dissipated instantly. As his foot touched the ashen ground of Seraphim, the burning warmth of the Dark Side permeating the surface of the planet immediately coursed through his veins and he welcomed the feeling. No, the Dark Side had not abandoned him, it had not forsaken him... it had led him here personally. He alone was meant to be the reaper of the prizes hidden beneath the scorched surface of this rock, so the others had to die. The crash, it was a final test of strength and worthiness and he had survived it. The challenge the Dark Side had placed before him, he had conquered it and now he was worthy in the eyes of the Dark Side to receive the knowledge and power of the ancients buried here. There no longer was any doubt within his body about that...

Suddenly groans and metal screeching snapped him back to the here and now. He looked to his left and noticed he had not been the only survivor... two of the Imperial Troopers and one of the Sith that had accompanied him forced themselves through a rift in the hull out of the wreckage. They were in a very bad shape, bleeding from several wounds and multiple limbs broken. Kosmarr immediately understood the Dark Side had deemed them unworthy...

"L-Lord Kosmarr! My Lo-Lord!" the female Sith brought out when she took note of the blonde standing tall and straight where he had exited. "You live!"

The Dark Side didn't need to whisper into his ears what he had to do next, their fates had been sealed the moment they had chosen to reveal their survival. Kosmarr ignited the crimson blade of his weapon and he burst into action, refueled by the powers that lay dormant beneath the surface of Seraphim.

And his blade spun, twirled... and slaughtered.

Despite the fact the world of Serenno knew a highly pleasant and comfortably warm climate, that day a colder breeze swept through the streets of Carannia, the capital city of the planet. This didn’t stop the populace however from departing their homes and going about their business as usual, opening up shops, going to work or attending their educational institutions. The traffic in the sky above the cityscape was bustling, airtaxis travelling in set lanes to their various, sometimes distant destinations. It was all this that contributed to the fact a lone figure, dressed in garnet coloured robes and cloak could tread the streets of Serenno’s capital unnoticed and unseen. He did not stand out in the crowd as the people around him were dressed in the same extravagant manner as he was, his facial features covered by the shadows of the hood he had put up. He moved gracefully as well as elegantly between the passer-by’s, having a clear destination in mind and he had no intention of anyone slowing him down. His gaze was lowered, the fine Serennian cloth of his cloak covering his eyes from the view of others, granting him the anonymity he desired in this moment for what he was about to do or better said; who he was about to visit.

A large round structure ornamented with green-hued lights, as was the traditional Serennian style of architecture, started coming into view as the cloaked man was seemingly heading into its direction, several frivolous circular towers on top of the building pointing upwards into the grey and moody sky. About a minute later the robed figure came to stand still as a large marble archway doomed up in front of him, serving as the imposing entrance to whatever could be found within the bulbous structure. It had not been the first time the sight of it gave him a pause, having stopped him dead in his tracks multiple times prior to this moment. He had stood in the exact same spot one year ago, two years ago, he had actually lost track of how many times each year he had made the journey to this very courtyard, only to cease any of his movements, turn around and return to the Carannia Spaceport and leave behind Serenno. Yet he knew very well he had postponed this event one time too many, the moment having come upon him to stand before his family after many years of avoiding them alike the Rakghoul plague.

His open palms became fists, the smooth leather of his gloves making a crisping sound as he did so. He was not afraid of them, he harboured no fear to appear to them as the being he had become; a man of power, of pride… a man that had risen from nothing to everything. There was nothing they could do against him, not a single word they could utter to him… he was untouchable and this time he would not turn around alike a coward. No, instead the man took a step towards the marble entrance, then another until with a straight back and his usual aristocratic movements he found himself walking inside the circular structure, his dread having been transformed into a sense of cold rage and hate. He purged any feeling of fear from his mind, body and spirit, refusing to feel such in this instant as his moment of triumph was to come upon him within mere minutes.

The halls he treaded in were dark, a hollow echo audible in the air as the sound of his boots reverberated against the walls. Silence dominated the space between the walls, merely a handful of people being present in the dim-light corridors and chambers. He passed an elder woman who was clad in black robes with silver linings along the seams and edges, a veil of the same colour draped down from the top of her head to her shoulders. Her eyes appeared lifeless as she walked with her mouth half-open in a voiceless lament, a white piece of cloth in her hands crumpled up and smudged. She moved it to her eyes making a wiping movement as she sniffled miserably, disappearing out of the man’s sight who kept looking ahead of him unrelentingly. Despite the fact it had been many years ago since he last walked through these halls, he knew exactly what route to take and where to head. The journey between the dark, heavy walls of this building had been burned into his mind from a very early age and could never be forgotten, not even if he tried to. He had taken the cursed steps as a child almost weekly, each time the gloom and despair within trying to grip his throat, choking him of all will to live. How the roles had been reversed now, as the suffering in this place could easily have been inflicted by his own hand, the darkness within the corridors and chambers no longer having a hold on him, but bowing down to his mere presence.

The man descended several sets of stone stairs, the air around him becoming more humid and moist, eventually wandering into a long underground hall with a smooth rocky ceiling that was only centimetres away from his hooded head. The walls around him were made up of hundreds upon hundreds of rectangles, each no bigger than one meter by one. In the middle of each a name was carved into the stone with a brief description below, the entirety otherwise seemingly plain and uncared for. As it happened he was the sole living being down there, making his way to somewhere three-fourth of the hall before he moved closer towards the stone wall on his left, his footsteps the sole sound audible in the outstretched crypt-like expanse. The garnet coloured robes and cloak stopped rustling once the man came to stand still before to specific rocky rectangles, moving his gloved hands to his head and pulling back the hood that had covered his yellow eyes, revealing his visage to the carving before him.

“Father… mother…” Ryssius stated, his voice cold and hard, laced with the venom of hatred. In front of him the letters on the two engraved rectangles spelled two names Vaggarth Lecyllath and Adaerna Lecyllath. The description below each name was short and identical to others in the crypt:

A Slave to the Sith Empire.

The blond stood still alike a statue before the graves of his parents, his eyes darting from one name to the other and back, in a weird way awaiting a response he knew would never come.

When the echo of the dim-lit torches placed along the walls of the crypt was all that was audible Ryssius spoke again. “Do the cold stones lie comfortably?” His voice remained the same, albeit ridicule audible in his tone now. The man knew very well he would receive no response yet as if to confirm their inability to answer him he remained silent, listening to the hollow stillness around him as it remained undisturbed by other than his own voice.

“As a child I already hated this place, hated coming here, to you.” He hissed towards the engraved stones in front of him. “I never understood why, as the feelings seemed to come natural to me. It is only now that I comprehend what it truly was that I experienced.” He continued, pausing briefly as his expression hardened. “It was your failure, your lowly status, your worthlessness that was abhorrent to me.”

Ryssius’ palms became fists again, the leather of his gloves tightly enveloping his knuckles. “You, you made me a slave!” he whispered hatefully. “I suffered because of your failing, I was cast down, torn apart and… and abused because of you.” His voice become colder with every word that he spoke, his inner hatred seeping eagerly into his veins, the burning flame of the Dark Side growing in strength within him. “I will never forgive you for what you have passed down onto me. Both of you were given the easy way out, killed by anti-Imperial terrorists…” He would have smirked in a demeaning manner had it been in his nature to make such expression, yet be that as it may this was not the case. Instead his expression was bitter and harsh, his burning yellow eyes looking at the names that had given him life. “How pathetic does that sound… killed by feeble, meaningless terrorists. Yet I believe I could use the same adjectives to describe you.” He ridiculed.

“Yet I suppose I should also be thankful because you gave me the fuel I needed to achieve what I have achieved…” He switched to a more prideful tone, his chin rising as he spoke. “I am a Lord of the Sith, a being of power and authority within the Empire. I command the Dark Side of the Force in such a destructive way your frail minds wouldn’t even be able to comprehend its magnitude.” The Lord sniffed out some air, the closest he’d ever come to a smirk of contempt as his eyes settled on the rectangle on the right. “You, father, didn’t even know what blood flowed through your veins… the ancestry you had. Pathetic…” He concluded on a disdained tone.

He allowed the hollow silence of before to return, the echo of his voice dying out as he watched the two graves before him for several moments. “In the spirit of the holidays I have come bearing a gift you know, something that should add to the comfort of your dead corpses rotting inside those stones caskets.” He suddenly pulled his curved-hilt lightsaber which he had claimed from his long lost ancestor out from underneath his cloak, igniting the crimson-hued blade the illuminated part of the hall. “May your names forever be forgotten!” He hissed hatefully, as he raised his weapon up, ready to strike down at the stone graves before him. Briefly he hesitated, the moment of uncertainty not even lasting a second before the red plasma struck against the rocky surface… then again, and again… until the names of both Ryssius’ parents were unreadable by the molten carvings his weapon had inflicted and he was breathing heavily with anger, hatred, exertion. He took a few moments to regard his work, disigniting his saber subsequently putting it back onto his belt once more.

“Happy Lifeday!” He brought out in the fullest extent of contempt, upon which he turned around and departed the crypt forever.

The night had been an exhaustive one once more. The Sith Lord sat on the edge of his bed, his hands buried in his golden-blonde hair as he tried to make sense of the images he had seen in his sleep. He slowly opened his eyes looking ahead of him, the yellow colour standing out in the dark of his bedroom. He took a deep breath as he straightened his back, rubbing his face briefly, his hands moving passed the clean shaved and still smooth skin. He rose to his feet, the light fabric of the black tunic he wore during the night moving around him as he walked towards the small balcony of his apartment. As the doors slid open a lightning strike lit up the skies above Kaas City, the Sith Lord letting his gaze fall onto the cityscape. His eyes fell upon the Imperial Citadel that was visible in the far distance, his stern facial expression not having changed since he had awoken. He remained standing there for several minutes until the door behind him slid open and he heard the sound of the mechanics of droid legs come closer.

“Master Ryssius, again?” a female mechanical voice asked him. The man called Ryssius didn’t turn around as he knew it was his droid and at the moment sole trustworthy companion MU-04.

The Medica Unit droid remained standing behind the Sith Lord, her photo-receptors focused on him as he sighed, his gaze still set on the Imperial Citadel. “Indeed, I have had the dream…” he paused for a moment, frowning slightly at the word he had used, “The vision, again,” Once he fell silent again his facial expression returned to its usual cold and hard look.

MU-04 remained standing in silence as well, her mechanical hands, designed to appear human yet at the same time to be as effective during medical procedures, clasped together in front of her. She turned her photo-receptors towards the location she had calculated her master was looking at, processing what her master had said and retrieving all memories she had collected in her databanks regarding Ryssius’ dreams, or as he had stated, visions.

“Master, in my recollection of what you have shared with me I am unable to find a mentioning of you conversing with another Overseer regarding the nature of your recurring nightly visionary experiences. Might I suggest you-“ yet MU-04 was interrupted when the Sith Lord rose his left hand into the air briefly.

“That will be enough, Medica. Return to the task I have given you. Before I depart in the morning I am expecting to have a detailed report regarding the new shipment of acolytes arriving at the Academy tomorrow,” his modulated voice issuing the command to his droid. The Medica unit bowed her head, returning a gently-spoken vocal acknowledgement and turned around to return inside, leaving the blonde Sith Lord alone on the balcony.

Lord Ryssius remained gazing across the cityscape of Kaas City, his yellow eyes no longer focused on the Imperial Citadel but on a spot where once a skyscraper had been standing. The building, formerly known as the Nyâsh Estate, had been destroyed during Darth Tvarkan’s crusade against the Nyâsh Directive. While at that time he had been a part of the Sith powerbase, he hadn’t witnessed the structure’s collapse as he lay in critical condition aboard a ship, being attended to by MU-04, formerly a personal medical droid of Tvarkan himself. After the Directive’s capture of one of the Darth’s personal vessel however, the unit, onboard that ship, was liberated from under his control. After Lord Ryssius returned to health, he had taken possession of the Medica unit, programming it to be loyal to him. She had been an incredibly useful asset in not only his biological and genetics studies and research, yet also performed excellently as a medic. Yet since he had acquired her, the Sith Lord had been working on the unit, adding combat modules and improving her chassis to be able to withstand the stress of a fight or duel. Over time, she qualified to be called a personal bodyguard, proving to be even a slight challenge to Ryssius when the two sparred so the Sith Lord could continue to hone his skills in combat.

A flash of lightning tearing through Dromund Kaas’ sky broke through Lord Ryssius’ contemplations, returning him to the here and now as he noticed he had been looking at the now empty spot in the Kaas City cityscape still. Despite the memories his facial expression had remained unchanged, cold and hard, as rarely anything managed to change the look on his visage. He pushed himself off from the railing, turning around on his heels and passed through the door back into his bedroom, laying himself in his bed yet not closing his piercing yellow eyes for one moment, as night shifted unseemly into day on the planet of Dromund Kaas.

“It has only been a week since those pathetic worms arrived to the Academy and already half of them are dead, their corpses rotting somewhere in the jungles,” Overseer Vallun stated appalled as he drank from his glass of wine. The two other Overseers, a female human called Heladren Yllos and a Zabrak male named Patrahc Ferr, nodded in silence yet their expressions clearly showed the disdain they felt for the students at the Dromund Kaas Sith Academy they were speaking of. Lord Ryssius Lecyllath sat at the table as well, watching Overseer Vallun with little genuine interest in what he had to say, yet not translating his weariness onto his facial expression. With his usual stern look he simply feigned auditory interest, holding a glass of Serennian wine in his right hand, leaning with his left arm on the edge of the back of the chair he was sitting on.

“Damned Zakuul. Before their miserable Eternal Fleet polluted the skies of our worlds we at least had decent students in the acolyte shipments. Now it’s only frightened fools and ignorant brutes. All unworthy. All failures,” Patrahc responded to Vallun’s statement with a thick accent in his Basic, a result of having Huttese as his primary language.

Due to both having been raised as slaves, Lord Ryssius and Overseer Patrahc often found common ground, albeit the former born within the Sith Empire and the latter under a Hutt crimelord. Both had broken their bonds of servitude when their strength in the Force had manifested itself, resulting in the death of Ryssius’ master while Patrahc’s was severely maimed. While it was rare for a Sith to have friends, Lord Ryssius considered the Zabrak Overseer to be an ally for the time being. He knew however that betrayal was the way of the Sith, thus he never truly trusted Patrahc. Nonetheless, he found the Overseer to be useful for the moment as he was not a man that seemed to know what discretion meant. Ryssius figured it was probably why he never rose passed the rank of Sith and found it ironic the Zabrak spoke so lowly about the acolytes while he had never been a genius himself. Regardless, Patrahc was a good observer and always aware of his surroundings. He often overheard various bits of information regarding other Overseers at the Sith Academy in Kaas City and their plots for the acolytes, sharing all too eagerly what he learned with Lord Ryssius. Not only did it help the Sith Lord to stay aware of what was transpiring within the Sith Academy on Dromund Kaas, but it also enabled him to remain a step ahead of his fellow Overseers.

“While I agree with the both of you, I must say that there are a few who seem to have some potential,” the voice and heavy Dromund Kaas accent of Heladren Yllos sounded over the table. Lord Ryssius turned his gaze at her, noticing how the pale-skinned, black-haired and blue-eyed woman stared intently at him, a hint of a seductive look hiding behind her gentle but self-satisfied smile. The blond was unaffected by it, having no interest in the female Overseer, despite her being from a noble bloodline on Dromund Kaas. Nonetheless he returned the gaze, albeit a neutral one yet bordering on disinterest. Whether Heladren noticed this or not Ryssius didn’t know, yet she had turned her gaze towards Overseer Vallun, her smile not having faded one bit.

“That is highly debatable, Heladren,” the elder Overseer responded “yet I will admit that I am curious as to milord’s assessment of the acolytes,” Vallun finished as he settled his orange-yellow hued eyes on Ryssius. The Sith Lord remained sitting still alike a statue, holding Vallun’s gaze for several moments in silence before he responded.

“The acolytes haven’t been properly tested yet. Their ‘trials’ to the jungles were little more than short expeditions, which give very little insight into their capabilities,” The blond stated, pausing for a moment as he looked around the table with almost an accusatory look as to how pathetic the trials his fellow Overseers had given the new acolytes were. “Until they have endured true hardships, which I promise you soon they will, I won’t waste my time on making speculative assessments.” He finished. The fact that he actually did have a detailed file compiled by Medica concerning the strengths and weaknesses of the newly arrived students he left out of his response. He had no intention of giving away his advantage over the other Overseers.

Overseer Vallun laughed softly for a moment, showing his yellowish teeth as he did. “Always a diplomatic answer. You would have made an excellent politician on your homeworld of Serenno hadn’t you been trained as a Sith, my Lord,” He said.

“Indeed. I have to admit, my Lord, I am astonished by the fact you don’t have a Serennian noblewoman as your wife. A man of your stature and appearance surely would have no difficulty acquiring a worthy spouse,” Heladren added before Lord Ryssius could respond “Unless remaining unmarried was an intentional choice?” She finished, speaking on a teasingly seductive tone, which highly irritated the Sith Lord behind his unaffected exterior. He had no desire to engage in such frivolities Heladren was desiring to partake in, especially not with someone like her. He took a sip from his wine, twirling the glass gently around in his hand whilst holding the female Overseer’s gaze in silence for a few moments, before first turning to Vallun.

“Serennian politics are of little interest to me. As long as they are a part of the Sith Empire I am content with the state of the planet.” He commenced his response, not bothering to mention that it was likely the nobles of Serenno wouldn’t want to see a former slave take place in their political landscape, albeit that slave became a Lord of the Sith. “As to the state of my private life,” Ryssius continued, turning his piercing yellow eyes to Heladren, who obviously was well on her way in becoming intoxicated “it was and is an intentional choice, Overseer. I also suggest you cease further drinking as I have no desire of being associated with any embarrassing scene you'd cause. We are, nonetheless, in the Nexus Room Cantina.” He finished, his tone lecturing yet his coldness towards Heladren seeping through into his voice.

The self-satisfied smile that had sat on the Overseer’s lips had evaporated and turned into a snarl, her expression reminding Ryssius of a disfigured frog-dog. Somewhere deep within him it amused him somewhat, yet what he had stated was a necessity as to end Heladren’s advances on him.

The female overseer rose from the table and looked at the other Overseers. “I have no desire to remain in this pathetic hole any longer,” She tried to state on a neutral tone yet the anger obviously raging within her and thus destabilizing her voice. As she nearly stormed out of the Nexus Room Cantina the Zabrak Overseer chuckled softly as his orange-hued eyes had followed the enraged human.

“Well, well, Lord Ryssius. I believe you have made a new enemy today.” He stated whilst turning his gaze at the blond Sith Lord.

“And what could she possibly do to me?” Ryssius asked rhetorically. “She knows very well she can’t do anything against me, as she is but a Sith.” He finalized.

“And you a Sith Lord. Well played.” Overseer Vallun chimed in, seemingly approving of the way he had handled Heladren. Ryssius took a sip of his wine, finishing it, not bothering to give any further reply.

The three men sat in silence for a few moments, each clearly thinking their own thoughts. Ryssius figured Overseer Vallun surely must be contemplating the scene of a few moments ago and Patrahc probably replaying it in his mind for his own amusement. Naturally he couldn’t be certain, yet he had observed the two men more than once and believed his assessment to be accurate. He himself pondered on something entirely else as what had happened tonight had little value for the Sith Lord. He was at the Nexus Room Cantina merely for appearances sake as he would have preferred to sit in his study and attempt to analyze his dreams… or better said visions. It was what his mind was occupied with at the moment, trying to figure out what the images he had seen meant.

It was always the same scene; he ran through a cave, somewhere above him sounds of lightning striking, in the distance a vague green light. He never could see if he saw himself in his dream, as it was a figure clad in black robes with the hood put up. The posture of the figure was unclear, he couldn’t decipher whether it was male or female, yet he felt the emotions within the person: anger, hatred, fear and panic. Yet these always seemed like the underlying emotions, there was another overarching the whole sense around the scene. He never could really place it, the dream or vision he experienced was too vague… or where those the right words? Ryssius wasn’t sure but he felt almost as if the images he saw came from a great distance… as if the vision was not… strong enough to reach him. He wasn’t sure but-

“I believe it is time for me to depart as well. It has been an… amusing evening.” Overseer Vallun announced suddenly and tore Ryssius away from his contemplations. Patrahc bowed his head gently and the Sith Lord gave a short nod, upon which the elder man rose from his chair and turned towards the exit, leaving the Zabrak and Human alone. The former watched the latter with a curious glint in his eyes, something Ryssius found unsettling. He didn’t like it if people observed him or tried to figure him out, it made him feel exposed and weak.

“Is there something you would like to say to me, Patrahc?” the Sith Lord eventually asked, turning his yellow eyes towards the remaining Overseer.

The Zabrak smiled slightly and shook his head. “Merely wondering what was on your mind, your expression seemed… troubled. Do you fear Heladren will plot against you?” He asked.

Ryssius wanted to smirk but maintained his composure, his expression remaining cold and hard. He didn’t like that his uncertainty about his dreams had seeped to his exterior, yet he found it somewhat amusing the Zabrak believed the Sith Lord’s mind was troubled with such trivialities. Nonetheless he had no desire Patrahc wanting to study him or attempt to uncover his inner being.

“Wonder about my thoughts again and I will make sure yours will spill out of your head in the form of blood, do you understand?” Ryssius spoke on a calm tone, yet the coldness of the threatening undertone clearly audible. Patrahc lowered his gaze, the smile from before gone. The Sith Lord on the other hand kept his eyes focused on the Zabrak male.

“You are useful to me, but remember not to become a nuisance.” Ryssius finally stated. Patrahc bowed his head once, anger gathering within his eyes yet the blond noticed he had learned how to contain it.

“As you say, my Lord. Forgive me, it will not happen again.” He stated softly, clearly despising the fact he was on the receiving end of a reprimand. While Ryssius desired his assets to know their place, he had no intent of turning them against him. He contained his own anger at Patrahc’s attempt to uncover his mind’s workings and leaned back in his seat.

“Very good. I would not expect otherwise from you, Overseer.” The Sith Lord responded on a more neutral tone, his aggressive undertone restrained once more.

Silence enveloped the table once more, the Zabrak clearly not wanting be the first to leave and Ryssius had returned to his contemplations. He pondered on the words his droid had stated to him a week ago on the balcony. He recalled how Medica had stated that she had no recollection of Ryssius stating he had consulted another Sith or Overseer regarding his visions. Her statement had not been false as the Sith Lord indeed had kept it to himself, merely speaking of his dreams with MU-04. He didn’t plan of sharing his experiences with just anyone, as what he may see at night could be something of significance. If so, then he wouldn’t want to give it away, yet rather study and investigate it himself. However, before he could do that he needed to understand what the images where, or better said, where the images took place.

He looked at Patrahc for a brief moment. It crossed his mind that he could ask the Zabrak whether he had experiences with such things or perhaps knew someone who did. He doubted the Overseer was thus strongly attuned to the Force to receive elaborate visions, but still, he overheard a lot at the Academy, perhaps he might have picked a valuable piece of information that could help the Sith Lord decipher his vision. He pondered for a moment whether it was worth the risk to involve another Sith into the matter of his dreams, yet he figured that on his own progress would be slow and he was eager to uncover the nature of his visions.

“One of my assets, a Sith, has been experiencing peculiar dreams recently. She told me of them and I am curious to uncover the meaning of them.” Ryssius began, twisting the truth somewhat. What he had stated thus far caught Petrahc’s interest as he regarded the Sith Lord with an eager glint in his eyes. “You don’t happen to have had experience with this, do you?” He finalized.

The Zabrak narrowed his eyes slightly in ponder, remaining silent for a moment before a gentle smile appeared on his lips. “Not myself, milord. However, I believe I do know someone who could help this asset of yours if you believe her to really have… visions?” He responded.

“I mainly want to return her attention to the here and now. She is too distracted by these dreams. If it’s something real then so be it, but my goal is to end her endless questioning and overthinking.” Ryssius lied. He knew that Patrahc might blab about what the blond just had stated to others he frequently conversed with within the Academy, alas it was the Zabrak’s nature. However, covering the subject in untruths might keep away the interest of those the Sith Lord did not want to attract the attention of.

Patrahc regarded Ryssius for a while before he responded, his smile becoming and eager grin. “I believe I can help you, my Lord, for a compensation of course.”

Ryssius raised an eyebrow, making it part of his little act. “I am not that desperate, Overseer. If I can’t get the information from you I will turn to another source,” He stated. The Sith Lord actually wasn’t really surprised by the Zabrak’s demand, after all, he had been raised in a criminal environment and among the Hutts. Yet Ryssius actually was interested in what the Overseer knew, although he couldn’t afford to make Patrahc aware of that. He watched the slightly displeased look on the Zabrak’s visage and sighed, putting his left hand in the pocket of his robes and revealing hundred credits, throwing it on the table before the Overseer.

“Take it or leave it, I have no interest in bargaining with you,” He stated in a rather weary tone, it being both real and a part of his act to convince the Zabrak he didn’t have much interest in the subject. As expected the grin from before returned onto Patrahc’s face, his red-skinned hand covered in black tattoos grabbing the money rather greedily. Ryssius could spare the credits and it would get him what he wanted. He didn’t like to rely on others like this, yet he felt that completely on his own he wouldn’t get far. He convinced himself this had been necessary.

The Zabrak Overseer rose to his feet once the credits he had received were safely in his pocket, bowing his head while his grin still remained on his visage. “I need to verify if my information is still valid, but I promise, my Lord, you will not be disappointed with what I have for you…”

The Silent Serpent, Lord Ryssius’ personal Fury-class Imperial Interceptor landed within the hangar of the space station in orbit of the ancient Sith homeworld of Korriban. Clad in black robes with ornamental silver plating in the area around the shoulders and stomach, the Sith Lord departed his vessel and made his way to the security checkpoint, being swiftly allowed access to the shuttle that would take him to the planet below. A few Sith Overseers present on the station recognized Ryssius from his work as a fellow Overseer at the Dromund Kaas Sith Academy, engaging in brief small talk with the Sith Lord. Preferably the blond would have silenced them as to be able to make his way swiftly towards the Sith Academy on Korriban’s surface, yet he had no intention on alienating possible allies or assets, or ruining his public image, thus he endured it.

It took the Sith Lord somewhat longer than he would have liked, yet eventually he found himself inside the shuttle on its way to the surface of the Sith homeworld. The journey took several minutes, Ryssius taking in the power of the Dark Side that was enveloping him the closer they got to Korriban. He basked in the energy stemming from the planet, finding his senses were being p.r.ickled by the darkness. He took a deep breath, allowing himself to enjoy this moment, finding the fact he was currently alone in the shuttle quite pleasant. The feeling didn’t last forever, as what seemed several seconds to the Sith Lord were actually minutes, the shuttle touching down on the durasteel underground of the landing pad in the Valley of the Dark Lords. He gathered himself and rose to his feet, putting on his mask made of silver as well, ornamented with intricate patterns across the smooth surface, subsequently walking down the ramp that had extended from the shuttle. A pleasant electrical current coursed through his foot up to his entire body when he stepped on the sands of Korriban. Unlike in the shuttle he didn’t bask in the sensation this time, controlling himself firmly and maintaining his stern posture. When he walked he did so with grace as well as authority, elegance as well as determination. His yellow eyes hid behind his mask settled upon the looming pyramid-shaped structure that was the Sith Academy, memories threatening to return from the deepest corners of his mind, regarding his time as an acolyte and the intimate moments he had shared with-

“Enough.” Ryssius hissed to himself, the sound barely audible as the winds blowing over the Valley smothered his whispers. A pair of students walked by yet they hadn’t heard him, merely bowing their heads as the Sith Lord passed them. He didn’t even acknowledge them, fighting back against the memories of the past and focusing on the here and now.

Lord Ryssius had ventured to Korriban after Overseer Patrahc had provided him with a name, the name of a Sith that he had heard of claimed to frequently experience visions from the Force. She was a caretaker of the Sith archives in the Academy on Korriban, having come to the ancient Sith homeworld after the Eternal Empire’s initial attack on the planet. The Zabrak believed the Sith could provide Ryssius with the answers he sought yet had warned him about the rumours of her rather eccentric nature. The Sith Lord didn’t care, he had dealt with lunatics and insanity before, surely a deranged archivist would form no problem to him. As long as it was not Slithan he had to deal with Ryssius harbored little fear in handling madness.

The blond walked up the stairs towards the entrance of the Sith Academy, keeping his head raised and not letting it down for one moment. His eyes behind his mask observed those he walked by or passed him, finding the Academy and those present within it were not alike during the days when he was a student here. Ryssius recognized the damage Zakuul had wrought, feeling anger rise up within him because of it. The Sith Order would never dare to admit it, especially not the Sith Empress, yet the spirit of the Empire was broken and Lord Ryssius despised that fact. He had risen to the rank of Lord of the Sith before the Eternal Fleet emerged from Wild Space through his own effort and by facing hardships. It was Darth Iradox of House Nyâsh who had bestowed upon him the title of Sith Lord shortly after the Nyâsh Directive returned from exile on the moon of Atrum III. Ryssius deemed he had earned the honour himself, having fought and bled for what he yearned to achieve. Yet when he regarded the newly appointed Lords of the Sith and even some Darths, he sensed the disgust rising within him, as they simply were given the titles and ranks after the Eternal Empire had thinned out the number of Sith in the Empire. They were meant to fill up the holes within the hierarchy, thus the power they held was empty, or that is at least what Ryssius believed. He deemed now more than ever the Sith Empire lacked unity, firmly holding the belief the Sith and Imperials were to be a consolidated iron fist striking against the Empire’s enemies.

Yet while that might be what the Sith Lord deems, did he not contribute himself to the lack of unity within the Sith Empire? Was it not in the nature of those who followed the Dark Side to rely on themselves and discard those around them as a means to an end? Lord Ryssius himself namely reluctantly decided to reach out to other Sith as to uncover the meaning and nature of his visions. Was it possible the concept of unity and the Dark Side of the Force didn’t go hand in hand and never could? These were all questions Ryssius quelled within his mind, burying them in the darkest and deepest reaches as he entered the archives of the Sith Academy.

He let his gaze go around, studying those who were present. To his disdain there were few Sith within the archives seeking knowledge, knowledge being what the Sith Lord extremely valued. To him knowledge was the best source of power and in his eyes the ultimate weapon against any enemy. It could be used to crush opponents with Sith Sorcery, it could be applied to undermine rivals through manipulation, it could be harnessed in order to rise above adversaries in strength and might through betterment of oneself. The fact that the numbers of Sith acquiring knowledge within the archives was lacking, led Ryssius to conclude the new students of the academy and thus the future Sith grossly underestimated the value of rigorous studying.

“You have come as I have foreseen.” Suddenly a thick raspy voice stated behind the Sith Lord, catching Ryssius off-guard. Attempting not to show his surprise, he turned around and was met with a pair of glowing yellow eyes. The voice had come from an elder woman, her skin pale, wrinkled and visibly affected by the power of the Dark Side. Her hair, kept in a messy bun, was grey and greasy, her posture slightly bent as she stared at the Sith Lord with an intense look in her eyes.

Lord Ryssius took off his mask, revealing his still youthful face as he managed to maintain his stern expression, returning the stare. “Are you the archivist Jachrida?” he asked on a neutral tone. The woman in front of him narrowed her eyes, remaining silent for a moment until she gave one sharp nod.

“You are the Man of Questions. You have come to ask. I have seen it.” Sounded her response. Her look did not change, her posture neither. She stood completely still in front of the Sith Lord, yet it was what she had stated that made the blond raise a brow.

“I will take that as assent.” He stated, briefly looking to the right and left. “I believe it is unnecessary for me to explain as to why I am here. An asset of mine has revealed your existence to me and I have come indeed with questions.” Ryssius finished.

The elder woman grinned darkly in a way that slightly unsettled the blond. “Has it been your asset? Or did your own visions bring you to me?” She asked in an inquisitive manner. “You believe you see the universe. All is right that you see. What you see cannot be wrong, but ah,” she paused and nodded, her malevolent grin still resting on her lips “You are wrong. It is why you are blind to what you see.” She finalized her jabbering, stepping closer as she seemed to be looking right into the Sith Lord’s eyes, something that invoked a feeling of anger and discomfort within him, yet he remained composed. Although he couldn’t deny the archivist was slowly getting on his nerves.

“Yes. You have eyes, you think you use them… but you do not. Your questions already have answers. Begone.” She suddenly exclaimed slightly angered, turning around and moving away from Ryssius. The latter felt how the anger within him was testing his control, his hands slowly forming into fists as he started walking after the elder Sith.

“I have not come here for your riddles or vague statements. I understand you see the universe differently than those around you but I will not leave unsatisfied, archivist.” He stated in a hushed but severe tone, his piercing yellow eyes focused on the woman as she walked with a malcontent expression on her visage. She seemed to be unaffected with what Ryssius has just said.

“Control. You want to control everything. Yourself. Me. Your path. When you see something that you don’t control then fear grips you. Your dreams you don’t control. They are controlled. You fear them.” She continued her prating. The blond felt how his patience was being tested in this moment, however, Jachrida just had stated something that caught his interest.

“You are speaking of the Force? It is controlling my dreams, is that what you are attempting to communicate to me?” He demanded. The archivist stopped dead in her tracks, folding her hands in front of her as she gazed at Ryssius.

“You. Are. Blind.” Jachrida put emphasis on every one of those three words, attempting to continue her walk immediately afterwards. She was stopped however when the Sith Lord grabbed her arm firmly, her eyes widening in anger as she directed her head at the blond. Ryssius regarded the archivist with a cold look, his jaws clenched together. The elder woman tried to shake her arm free yet the Lord’s grip was an iron one.

“Cease your senseless jabbering, old woman. I came here for concrete answers, I demand you give me what I want to know.” He stated, placing his free hand on the elegant curved hilt of his single-bladed lightsaber. The few people that were present in the archives caught wind of the scene, yet they merely looked from the corners of their eyes, fearful to intervene. Silence enveloped the two Sith, the archivist not diverting her gaze from Ryssius’, who clearly seemed to be prepared to do anything to obtain the information he desired.

After a while the archivist sniffed in disdain, letting her eyes fall on the Sith Lord’s hand firmly clenching her upper arm. “Release your grip and I will reveal what you yearn to know.” Sounded her eventual answer. Lord Ryssius hesitated for a moment, although not showing it on his exterior. Eventually he tightened his grip on his emotions, letting Jachrida’s arm go. The grip must have hurt yet she did not grab her arm and instead clenched her hands into fists. The blond figured it was because she didn’t want to express weakness in front of him.

“To know the future, your dreams… see the past. Now begone.” She stated in a hateful tone, Ryssius picking up the spite storming within her through the Force. Yet before the Sith Lord could respond the archivist hurried away as quickly as her frail body allowed her to, leaving him behind in the Sith Archives with more questions than he had arrived with.

Lord Ryssius looked around the room he was in, noticing how several acolytes that had been studying some records were staring at him. He gave them a cold and hard look, keeping his hand placed on his saber as he turned to face them. The movement had fulfilled its purpose, as the students quickly lowered their gazes in submission. He only gained briefly satisfaction from it as the words of the Sith archivist echoed once more inside his mind.

“Control. You want to control everything.”

He growled shortly to himself, trying to push away the words and the stinging truth within them. He was done with this place for the time being, as he realized he would gain nothing more from the Sith archivist. Unsatisfied and weary he turned towards the archive’s exist, making his way back to the shuttle pad outside the Academy in a steady pace.

“Apprentice, I am returning to Dromund Kaas fairly empty-handed,” Lord Ryssius stated towards the small holographic image of a young man displayed by his personal holo-communicator. “Inform the Academy that I won’t be returning with any new prospects, it should solidify my cover,” He added on a slightly more hushed tone, making sure none of the passerby’s overheard him as he walked on the sands of the Valley of the Dark Lords, on his way to the shuttle pad nearby. He still felt angered by the fact how the Sith archivist had handled him, better said, how he allowed her to handle him. He should have acted more decisively, perhaps even wrenched the answers he needed from her. Still, she hadn’t been entirely useless as she did say several things that would be material for the Sith Lord to ponder upon.

The young man bowed his head as he stood with his hands clasped on his back, despite his status as Sith Apprentice clad in an Imperial uniform. “Yes, my Lord, as you wish.” Sounded his response. “Did the archivist provide you with much trouble?” He inquired almost knowingly immediately afterwards.

Lord Ryssius sighed deeply and warily. “To say that she has an ‘eccentric personality’ is an understatement, I will make sure to notify Patrahc of that. He should have informed me she is utterly deranged,” He felt the annoyance festering within him, a souvenir of today’s visit to Korriban. “Rest assured, Rhythiss, I will acquire what I desire,” He stated in conclusion, having reached the shuttle pad and boarded the vessel that was awaiting departure there.

The apprentice called Rhythiss bowed his head again. “Of course, my Lord, I-“ yet he didn’t finish his sentence, frowning suddenly. Before the blond could inquire what was wrong he felt it as well, a disturbance in the Force.

“I have felt it too,” Ryssius stated. The apprentice nodded, still frowning as he had fallen silent for a moment.

“I sense a threat towards you, master. You should have let me accompany you, I can’t protect you otherwise,” The apprentice said, directing his gaze at his master once more. His protective nature towards those he served was one of the things that made Lord Ryssius consider Rhythiss Payne as his greatest asset. The anger he had sensed from before simmered down slightly in response to his apprentice’s statement, as Ryssius made a reassuring gesture with his hand.

“Remember I am never unprotected, Rhythiss. The Dark Side favours the strong, thus it will always guard us,” The blond answered. The holographic figure bowed and gave a verbal acknowledgment, before the Sith Lord ended the transmission and turned off his communicator, as the shuttle he was onboard closed its boarding ramp and lifted up into the sky.

Ryssius couldn’t deny his vigilance had greatly increased since he had felt the disturbance. He couldn’t clearly discern the source, yet he had perceived it was imminent. His hand remained close to his lightsaber attached to his belt, as his eyes behind his mask he wore again scanned the main hold of the shuttle. There were a few Sith onboard yet they didn’t pay much attention to him, the Sith Lord concentrating on keeping his emotions of anticipation and caution hid behind his mental wall. It was a technique he had learned since his early days as a Sith, finding it a useful tool to remain unreadable towards others, especially rivals and enemies.

The journey back to the space station orbiting Korriban only took several minutes, soon touching the durasteel ground of the hangar. In order to not raise suspicion or to provoke the threat to arise earlier, he behaved as if all was well, leaving the shuttle in a normal pace. He felt the danger clearer on the station than on Korriban itself, which led Ryssius to the conclusion the menace was present here. He started gathering his emotions, letting them course through his body as he opened himself up to the Dark Side of the Force, at the same time attempting to contain it behind his mental wall as to not alert other Force users to his preparation. Fortunately the darkness emanating from Korriban aided in masking his channeling of the Force, letting him pass towards the hangar in which the Silent Serpent was located fairly unnoticed. The anticipation within him had become stronger by the time he set foot inside the hangarbay, his senses p.rickled and awareness extended.

“It’s here. Whatever is to happen, it will happen in here,” He concluded inside his mind, his eyes scanning the environment closely. From a purely visual viewpoint nothing seemed to be awry around his ship, yet it was unmistakable, a hostile presence watche-

The shot sounded from behind, echoing throughout the hangar. Lord Ryssius however had been prepared, anticipating this moment since he departed the shuttle from Korriban. In almost a blur of movements the Sith Lord came to life, the red blade of his lightsaber already raised in front of him by the time the shot had reached him. With a slight and swift movement of his weapon the blond deflected the bolt, redirecting it into the durasteel floor. Immediately afterwards another shot followed yet this time Ryssius saw the assailant, a male figure clad in black behind a sniper rifle aimed at him hiding behind several containers.

As the second shot had been fired at him the Sith Lord advanced forward, evading the bolt by jumping to the right yet immediately after he did so he threw his left hand forward, unleashing the emotions and energy he had been gathering in a bolt of Force Lightning. It forced the assassin to duck and roll to the side, abandoning his weapon and only just evading the blue-purplish coloured electrical currents of Dark Side energy. Time to recover he didn’t have, as with his speed and reflexes enhanced through the Force Lord Ryssius was already slashing his red blade down at his assailant when he sought to rise from his manneuvre. The assassin had used the momentum of his evasion to roll further to the side, yet not in time to completely evade the blond’s weapon, the burning plasma of the blade cutting deep in his upper right arm. He hissed in pain, yet couldn’t allow to focus on it as the Sith Lord was making another advance.

Lord Ryssius used the Force to augment his jump, spinning in the air as he came slashing down with his lightsaber at the man on the ground. The assassin once again barely evaded the attack, this time rolling forward feeling every muscle in his body starting to burn from the exertion. The blond Sith hit empty ground with his blade yet landing perfectly on his feet, already his head directed at his opponent, his jaws clenched and teeth shown, a cold fury raging within his yellow eyes. The assassin managed to grab his blaster and fired several shots at the Sith Lord, forcing Ryssius to go from offense to defense. The latter swiftly rose to his feet and drew upon the Force to further augment his reflexes and senses, spinning his blade in an eight-pattern as he deflected the bolts coming at him. The attack had given the assassin time to recover, taking one of the grenades from his belt with his free hand and hurling it at the blond the moment he ceased his series of shots. Ryssius had to remain on the defensive, growling angrily and audibly as drew once more on the Force to somersault backwards out of harm’s way, despite that, the explosion of the grenade still pushing him backwards as he covered his face with his left arm, his right arm holding his saber behind him.

The assassin had managed to hide behind some crates again, Lord Ryssius at first scanning the hangar visually and later extending his senses through the Force. The alarms wailed inside the hangarbay, the Sith Lord sensing Imperial troopers were on their way. If he wanted to uncover who the assassin was and more importantly who his contractor was he had to defeat his assailant yet keep him alive. Swiftly Ryssius uncovered his opponent’s hiding place, fueling his connection to the Dark Side with his inner reserves of hatred and pain as he drew again upon the Force to push one of the containers and let it crash down upon the assassin. As expected, the latter jumped and rolled to the side in an effort to evade the heavy object yet was caught off-guard by the Sith Lord’s subsequent attack. Opening up further to the Dark Side, Ryssius extended his reach though the Force across the room, gripping the body of the man and Force Pulling the assailant towards him. Unable to defend against it the assassin flew through the air tumbling around, until pain nearly paralyzed him as the Sith Lord’s red blade cut through tissue and bone, severing both his arms in a swift movement of the weapon and afterwards letting him crash onto the durasteel floor. The man cried out in pain as Ryssius lowered his blade, keeping it still ignited as he moved to stand over the assassin’s crippled body.

The doors to the hangar flew open and a squad of Imperial troopers rushed in, their weapons aimed at the two figures yet once noticing the red blade of the Sith’s lightsaber and the maimed body on the floor lowering them slightly. Lord Ryssius breathed somewhat harder through his nose as a result of the fight, attempting to control it when the soldiers had made their way to his location and the commander stepped forward.

“My Lord, are you unharmed?” The female commander let her voice be heard from behind her helmet. The blond didn’t turn his gaze at her, instead extinguishing his blade as his gaze remained focused on the man squirming in pain on the ground.

“Your assistance is unnecessary, I am taking this assassin into custody myself. Report to your superiors everything is under control and the danger is passed.” Sounded Ryssius’ response. The commander of the squad seemed somewhat startled but eventually bowed her head.

“Yes, my Lord.”

Subsequently she contacted the security of the station via holo-communicator to inform them all was well, turning around to her troops. Ryssius in turn clipped his lightsaber back onto his belt and knelt onto one knee, taking the assassin by the throat with his right hand and pressing him against the ground, only just keeping his windpipe open as to give him the opportunity to speak.

“How did you manage to get onboard this station? Who provided you with the means to bypass security?” The Sith Lord demanded on a cold and sharp tone, the expression on his visage mirroring his voice. The assassin gasped for air as he had no means of pulling Ryssius’ hand away due to a freshly acquired lack of arms. The blond noticing however his mouth was fervently moving, as if he was pressing his tongue against his teeth.

“D-glr-Dich-haagh-Dichannal A-Ah-ghh-arn s-sends he-her r-regards.” Sounded his gurgling as suddenly he bit on something and Ryssius heard a breaking sound coming from within his mouth, a moment later his eyes widening as his heart stopped as well as his struggle against the Sith Lord’s grip. The latter frowned in anger, hissing briefly as he withdrew his hand, rising to his feet again. Dichannal Aharn, a name he had not heard for quite a while yet knew quite well. She was a traitor to the Sith Empire that had meddled with the Nyâsh Directive’s affairs on Ord Trasi when Ryssius was overseeing operations there for them. From the rumours he had heard she had a personal vendetta against the Sith Lord, yet he always discarded her as an insignificant threat. Until now she had never taken any action against the blond, or he had underestimated the rogue Togruta and she had been plotting against him in the shadows of the criminal world for years.

“Commander, the assassin is dead. A suicide pill, add to your report to look for traces of Latheniol during to autopsy as the cause of death.” He sharply stated. The female trooper that was in command saluted the Sith Lord, adding a verbal confirmation to it. Ryssius looked around the hangar, his sense of unease still not entirely silenced yet he assumed it was the aftermath of what had taken place in the hangar.

“Communicate any finds regarding the assassin to this address. I expect to be the first one to be informed.” Ryssius stressed, handing the commander a small datacard upon which he turned towards the boarding ramp of the Silent Serpent, leaving the scene of before behind him.

“Damn it all!” Lord Ryssius exclaimed as he came aboard his ship, witnessing the aftermath of a struggle inflicted to the interior of the vessel. Scorchmarks, destroyed furniture and sparks coming out from the damaged holo-transmittor. He walked slowly as he assessed the damage, a storm of cold rage gathering within him as his hands had formed tight fists.

“Medica!” the blond yelled, his voice carried over the entire ship. There came no response however, the Sith Lord getting the feeling the attempt on his life may not be over yet. He took the hilt of his lightsaber in his hand, holding it tightly yet not igniting the weapon yet.

“MU-04, report!” he tried again yet once more he was met with silence. Ryssius slightly narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaws together as he slowly advanced through the main hold. He reached into his emotions and extended his senses through the Force, trying to perceive any life form other than himself aboard his ship. He didn’t pick up another being, yet he did perceive a faint energy source stemming from the cargo hold. The blond had an idea of what it could be and he swiftly made his way to the location he had sensed the energy coming from, yet the door to the cargo hold was closed and the control panel had been smashed. Ryssius growled briefly, in his anger activating his weapon and stabbing the red blade into the durasteel door in front of him. He slowly moved his lightsaber in a rectangular pattern, cutting a new opening for himself and what lay beyond. Once the blade had reached the point the Sith Lord had first stabbed into, Ryssius used the Force to push out the hunk of metal he had cut loose, letting it fall with a loud bang on the floor. He then entered the cargo hold and saw the motionless frame of Medica laying on the ground with what looked like a blade protruding from her abdominal area. Upon closer inspection he found the device was sending out an electrical current that kept the droid deactivated and in essence stunned. The blond sighed wearily and took the hilt of the weapon and pulled it out of Medica. About a minute later he heard Medica’s inner circuits working normally again and her photo-receptors came to life, as well as her entire body.

A robotic hand was headed for Ryssius’ throat but the Sith Lord intercepted it with the Force, pushing against his droid’s movement with it. “Medica, stand down, it’s me,” he commanded. Immediately MU-04’s databanks recognized her master’s voice and her photo-receptors readjusted onto the Sith Lord’s visage, retracting her arm momentarily.

“My apologies, Master Ryssius, I had found myself incapacitated and had hoped to avenge my involuntary deactivation by rearranging the position of my assailant’s trachea,” sounded her response as she slowly rose to her feet, the blonde doing the same. “By perceiving your vital functions to be in order I assume the assassin’s are terminated, master?”

Ryssius nodded. “Yes, the assassin is dead, although sadly not by my hand,”

“Hmm, how unfortunate,” Medica stated neutrally. “At least you remain unharmed. Have you acquired what you ventured here for?”

The Sith Lord sighed and turned around, expecting his droid to follow him, judging her to function properly again. “Yes and no… the archivist proved to be more insane than helpful, yet she did say something that might prove useful,” he explained as the two made their way to the cockpit, Ryssius letting his eyes fall on the damage done to the interior of the main hold once more.

“I apologize for the poor state of the ship, master, yet as you can imagine my tolerance protocols had been deactivated once I took note of the intruder,” MU-04 stated after she had noticed Ryssius’ eye movements.

The Sith Lord sighed wearily once again as he made a dismissive gesture. “I know, Medica. You did what you could… but I expect you to improve on yourself after today. Something like this cannot occur again,” he warned her. The droid bowed her head and gave her master a verbal acknowledgement as the two had reached the cockpit of the ship, Ryssius taking place in the captain’s seat.

“Set course for Dromund Kaas, Medica, I would like to depart now,” he stated, Medica perceiving through her audio-receptors that his standard modulated tone was altered. Her databanks provided her with the information the tone matched a troubled one. She wasn’t programmed however to question her master and simply did what she was ordered to do, taking place in the pilot’s seat and attending to the controls in front of her. Soon the engines of the Silent Serpent roared to life, once the necessary procedures had been finished the ship lifted upwards and flew out of the hangar.

Lord Ryssius remained seated in his chair, letting his gaze fall on the stars that appeared through the main window as the vessel had made it out of the hangar. Despite the fact the assassin had been dealt with he still felt unease fester within him, a frown settling on his face. He felt as if the danger was still not over and then it hit him…

He swiftly and suddenly rose to his feet, his hands formed into fists again. “Medica, perform a scan of the ship immediately. The assassin may have planted explosives on the vessel,” he commanded in a severe tone.

The droid allowed the ship to drift freely through space for a moment, venturing away from Korriban and further into the Horuset system, complying with her master’s commands.

“Scan in progress,” she stated while processing the information the vessel’s computers transmitted to her. Ryssius waited anxiously, his jaws tightly clenched as he looked around the cockpit to spot anything out of the ordinary.

“Internal scans show nothing out of the ordinary. Commencing external scan,” MU-04 notified her master. A few moments later her voice sounded again as she turned her head towards Ryssius. “Scans are indicating no explosives or foreign objects are aboard the ship or attached to the exterior. Should I resume the journey?” she inquired.

Despite Medica’s report he felt the unease increasing, the threat coming closer once more. For a moment he remained silent as he extended his awareness through the Force, seeing the danger clearly then.

Ryssius’ glowing yellow eyes snapped opened. “Bank starboard!” sounded his enraged voice. The droid immediately complied, only then noticing the ship flying at high speed behind them on the scanners as well. She was too late however, managing to evade the line of flight of the other ship partially, as it crashed into the Silent Serpent still, tearing open the hull and wrecking a significant portion of the ship. It was chaos aboard and Lord Ryssius failed to stop himself succumbing to its silent blackness.