Ben moved with Marek and followed the older Jedi's instructions. Stealing, or according to Marek, borrowing, was not nothing he would have done on his own. It just wasn't like him and if Marek was not here, Ben would never have done that.

As they took off to follow Mira, Ben had to do something else that was illegal, a lot more illegal than borrowing the speeder. It was also more difficult and at first Ben had no idea where to start. He had some basic hacking skills, but nothing like what was needed to get into the planet's security network.

Ben wondered, as he tried to enter the system, if perhaps the force could help him know what code to use for access. He closed his eyes and tapped into the force, shutting off the world around him. Each time was becoming easier and easier for him to tap into the force and ask for its help.

He heard someone talking to him, knowing it was probably Marek, but his concentration did not let him hear the exact words. His fingers flew over the datapad as he surrendered to the force. Ben did not know what code for the system, but when he got close or reached the correct number or letter, the force let him know whether to stop or keep going.

After a few moments, the pad finally beeped at him and lit up in a green hue, letting him know the system was accessed. Ben sighed in relief and open his eyes slowly, looking at a menu screen. From what he knew about advanced security systems, it would know someone had entered it illegally and start a trace to locate him. It would only be a matter of time before the datapad was tracked and located.

"I'm in, but we should hurry and get off planet as soon as possible. They will be tracking us quickly." Ben said to Marek as he looked at the Jedi.

He quickly located the holo cams in this area and searched each on for images of Mira, narrowing it down by time stamps. Once she was located, he only had to give the computer something else to search for. Ben made it scan for speeders matching Mira's and show the ones behaving radically. Since there were not many drivers as crazy as the sith woman, it was located fairly quickly.

When the last image of Mira and the speeder resolved, Ben could not believe it. It seemed that Mira had come along side a moving shuttle and jumped on board. Right after that the shuttle had taken off into space, leaving the speeder alone to slow down and stop in mid air. Ben was fascinated with the speed of the escape, it was almost planned. Some one else must had known Mira was in trouble and come to help her out. It also meant that once more Mira had escaped him.

Ben shook his head slowly and turned towards Marek. "She's gone. The last holo transmission of her shows that she left in a shuttle, took off for space. She is off planet by now. The speeder she used is there, however, it must have had a safety in it. Should we go inspect it?"

"You quote names at me, Mira, knowing full well that I don't have any way of knowing the truth of what you say... Yet even if you believe what you're saying, you forget that history is written by the winners! So many times, the Jedi have been the winners."

Ithron's expression of disgust was clear to see.

"Even 'Sith' accounts have probably been altered or even planted by the Jedi. The information you've received is most likely false. The only thing that can be trusted is personal experience - or the word of Master. The Jedi would want future dabblers in the Dark Side to think that it's futile, and pointless, and will always end in disaster! Don't you see that?"

Then he paused and thought for a moment. Opening his mouth as if to continue what he was saying, he suddenly shook his head and laughed.

"Believe what you like. What do I care? Yet it seems, Sith Apprentice Mira, that we're on the same side for now."

At that moment, the console threw up a yellow indicator light to show that the shuttle had left the atmosphere. Spinning his chair to face the computer, Ithron called up the autopilot system and had it set a course for Carida, as Mira suggested. The conversation at an end, but his suspicions not yet allayed, Ithron left the cockpit for his chamber.

"We don't have any other choice. I just hope she left some indication of where she was heading and who she might be in cohorts with."

Following Firestar's direction, Marek guided their craft to the abandoned speeder, left adrift amongst the countless ships that frequented the area. To call the spot precarious would be an understatement; a mid-air collision from a reckless driver could put an end to the investigation as well as their lives. However, despite the risk, they came to rest alongside the lone floater.

Ben exited first, wasting little time; he began sifting through the various compartments the speeder had to offer, as well as checking under the seats for any loose scraps of parchment, or perhaps even a discarded data-pad.

As the search progressed, Zolar turned his attention to the video-feeds Ben was able to call up on the speeder's onboard. He rewound and played them over, trying to pick up on as much detail as he could, starting from the initial theft of the craft outside the cafe, to the daring escape on the passing shuttle.

"Any Luck Yet?" Marek questioned, all the while keeping his vision trained on the feeds hoping to find some shred of evidence of where she was intending to go, before the appearance of the shuttle, but he came up empty-handed.

Then he felt it.

"Frag."

The tingling in his spine was a dead give-away, that all too familiar warning that danger was near and getting closer. Immediately flipping the old feeds over to the more current, Marek observed the emergence of Imperial Law Enforcement closing in on their position. It would be a matter of moments before they were in visual range, and then another thirty seconds before they'd be right on top of them. Marek turned his sights on Ben, who must've felt by now that they were about to welcome some unwanted company.

"Damn, their law enforcement, they shouldn't be responding this fast." Marek spoke to the monitor.

Then to his new-found companion, "We're running out of time Ben."

There was no time for fear or timidness. The police were closing in on them and Ben had no want to be caught by the imperial's. Without even thinking that he was hundreds of stories up, Ben leaped from their speeder to the one floating beside them. It was empty of course, but still needed to be searched for any possible clues.

Within seconds, Ben could tell the speeder's cabin was devoid of any clues about Mira. Nothing told him she would never be so careless as to leave things laying around. It was also the fact that she had only spent mer minutes inside this craft, hardly enough time to leave many things behind.

As he ran his hand over the drivers seat, however, Ben noticed a twitching in the force, it was pulling him towards the back of the cushion. There, wedged in the rear was a small piece of cloth. It had hooked on something sharp protruding from the seat cushion and had torn away from the owner.

Touching brought a cold shudder through his body and he knew it was Mira's. It was radiating dark energy and still contained traces of anger within it. This surprised Ben tremendously as he had realized that emotions and feelings could be passed from the person to a thing or place. It was like Almas, where the Kashan base had been. That place been filled with darkness and hate.

Ben finally heard Marek yell out and instinctively looked in the direction the police speeder that was still far away, but quickly nearing. He had to think of something fast to get law enforcement out of their hairs.

"Marek the data pad, toss it over!" Ben shouted over the noise of passing air speeders.

As he did, Ben reached down and under the forward panel, pulling out a small fuse box and unhooking two fuses. With the disabled safety switch, the speeder could now drive even without a pilot inside. When Marek tossed over the datapad, he jammed it in between the seats, making sure it would not fall out.

Once everything was done, Ben activated the speeder's drivers and hopped back into the one they had come just in time. The other craft took off in the opposite direction with no one on board.

"Lets get out of here! The only thing in there was this piece of cloth." Ben showed it to Marek before stuffing it into his pocket.

As Ithron left for his chambers, Mira felt a growing discomfort. Something was terribly wrong either with him or with this mission. She knew that at least one Jedi followed them, and if experience had taught her anything, where one Jedi was the rest would soon follow. But he had not given her enough information to be sure his leanings were false. On the other hand, a true Sith would take advantage of every little statement, no matter how trite, and exaggerate it to gain power and prestige in the eyes of the Masters.

So Mira remained where she was, analyzing the conversation, piecing Ithron's words together to form a shameful report.

"It might interest you to know that Master Lupercus supports us on our mission. It turns out that he takes a keen interest in all that goes on in the universe. I have to admit that I thought him a self-obsessed old fool. Now though, I've been....educated. Has the thought ever occurred to you, Mira, that Vance's vision for the Sith Order is the one that's wrong, not Lupercus's? Vance sees the Sith as a brotherhood. Master Lupercus now.....he knows the true ways of the Sith. The ways of Master and Apprentice. The ways of power. Power is real, Mira. Master Lupercus showed me that. For a few brief moments, I felt the power that he experiences every minute of every day. Power isn't a means to an end. It is the end. The sooner you realise that, the better. Anyway, despite your vaunted ideals of brotherhood, I'm sure you've considered killing Vance, and taking his place at the head of the Order...as if that's even possible! If anything, that goes to prove that the true path of the Dark Side is incompatible with Vance's ideals..."

There. There was her in. Ithron no longer believed in Vance's ideals of brotherhood. She quickly moved forward and opened the small recorder device that was standard in every ship across the galaxy. Its purpose was usually simply to determine what happened in the event of a crash. Data was recorded elsewhere and deleted at the end of every flight. Now, though, it would serve Mira's purposes.

Working quickly, she placed the small computer chip in a portable data pad and accessed a voice modulator. She then began to hack the device. It didn't take long for the Force to guide her to the correct password, and she was in. She first reviewed her statements to be sure they were ambiguous at best. Phrases like, "Though I admit that the years of brainwashing at the Temple is hard to overcome," were quickly deleted. Then she began editing Ithron's dialogue using the modulator to emulate his voice. It only took a few minutes. When she finished, his words now said this:

"It might interest you to know that Master Lupercus supports us on our mission. It turns out that he takes a keen interest in all that goes on in the universe. I have to admit that I thought him a self-obsessed old fool. Now though, I've been....educated. Has the thought ever occurred to you, Mira, that Vance's vision for the Sith Order is the one that's wrong, not Lupercus's? The fool Vance sees the Sith as a brotherhood. Master Lupercus now.....he knows the true ways of the Sith. The ways of Master and Apprentice. The ways of power. Power is real, Mira. Master Lupercus showed me that. For a few brief moments, I felt the power that he experiences every minute of every day. Power isn't a means to an end. It is the end. The sooner you realise that, the better. Anyway, despite your vaunted ideals of brotherhood, I've often wondered whether you've considered killing Vance, and taking his place at the head of the Order...as if that's even possible for you! The true path of the Dark Side is incompatible with Vance's ideals."

With that done, she quickly inserted a blank chip into the data recorder, keeping the original with her. Then and only then did she retreat to her chambers. If Ithron remained on her side, she would allow him his freedom through the mission. If not, justice would descend quickly when she sent the recording to Vance or Descartes. Assured of Ithron's eventual demise, Mira drifted into a light sleep as the shuttle entered hyperspace, bound for Carida.

In the sanctuary of his chambers, with the door lock safely on, Ithron allowed his mind to wander while his body sat in a meditative state. Across the ship, he could sense Mira's presence but he ignored it, focussing instead on himself. He allowed himself to feel the power flowing through himself, allowed himself to admire the beauty of power in its own right; the beauty of power without a purpose, only boundless potential.

As his mind wandered through his own subconscious, it came upon what Mira was saying earlier, about her encounter with Ben on Telos.

I do hope I get the chance to meet this Jedi friend of Mira's, he thought. He might be useful.

The barest beginnings of a plan entered his head, but his mind, in an active state, soon left this train of thought. Now he was back with Lupercus, seeing the thoughts the Master had wanted him to see, earlier that day.

He saw the extermination of the Gungans, and then...then...something happened. The something came in the form of one Gash Jiren, a name that Lupercus' mind spoke with something almost approaching respect, if that were possible.

What happened to Lupercus? What made him like he is?

He saw Lupercus fall, near death.

Was that it, Master? he thought to the darkness. Was that what changed you?

Curious now, about whether this indicated a true route to power, Ithron removed the lightsabre from his belt. Activating it, he held it in his right hand, the blade toward the ceiling. Slowly, he moved his left hand nearer to the buzzing blade until it was near enough to feel the heat coming from the device.

Then, with an effort of will, he plunged his hand into the blade, so it ran through his palm. As he did, he became away of his own thoughts and actions, as if everything was taking place in slow motion.

First came the initial indicator of pain, warning the body that it was in a potentially hazardous situation. His instinct was to twitch his hand clear of the blade, but Ithron used all his will to hold it there.

Swiftly, it was followed by anger at the pain. This anger grew into a storm of rage as the true force of pain approached Ithron's mind: Anger at the pain, anger at himself for feeling it, anger at the sabre for causing it all melded together. As the pain grew, so did the anger: Every slight pain and hurt that Ithron had ever been caused became drawn into it....

Focussing this rage as best as he could, he channelled it down his arm to his right hand, which held his sabre. Just then, time came back...

The main substance of the pain exploded into Ithron's conciousness, forcing him to double up and drop his sabre which clattered, harmlessly, on the floor. The flesh on his left hand sizzled and burned, but Ithron's eyes were fixed upon his right hand. In a moment of ecstasy, before the pain took him and he blacked out, he the essence of raw power flash between his right thumb and forefinger: Force Lightning.

His last thought, at a subconscious level, before he hit the floor was this: That power was mine after this small pain... By comparison Lupercus was nearly killed....

'"Lets get out of here! The only thing in there was this piece of cloth."

Marek shot a momentary glance at the piece of possible evidence, just as Ben secured it away in his pocket, before throwing the speeder into overdrive and disappearing into the folds of the durocrete jungle that surrounded them.

The decoy worked just as Ben had intended, the Imperials in all of their wisdom choose to follow-up on the malfunctioning ship skirting through traffic lanes rather than the actual craft that had knowingly tapped into their security network, leaving little wonder as to why their predecessors were brought down by a lowly bunch of homeless rebels.

"We fooled them this time, but to do it a second time will not be as easy. We need a discrete exit off of this rock. Where's your ship?"

Though the Imperials were known for some of the bigger blunders in the galaxy they rarely made the same mistake twice and if Marek and Ben weren't exactly careful, the punishment would most likely be much more severe if they were captured.

"Hanger twelve, docking port three," Ben responded.

"Hangar twelve it is." Marek responded, proceeding to punch up the directions from their current position to that of their new destination.

The remainder of the flight to the hangar bay was spent in silence. Ben's thoughts focused upon Mira while Marek tried to avoid raising any sort of suspicion that might catch the attention of the all ready frenzied law enforcement of Coruscant.

Sith Temple, Coruscant.



Lupercus had allowed the Nightsisters long enough to meditate and prepare for the journey. They were a motley crew of sorts, but their one unifying factor was their grace and beauty. The only thing that surpassed those traits was their hunger, for power, for control, for everything. It was that, rather than the more obvious and superficial things, which first drew Lupercus to their leader.

Now, as they stood before him awaiting his orders, he ceased his musing.

"Ladies, you all know what must be done, this is paramount.

But you must also remember to revel in what you are doing. Enjoy the wanton release of your powerful destruction as you complete your tasks! Consider it my gift to you..."

He nodded to himself as he left, behind him sitting the shuttle that would take them on to Korriban and their continued descent into corruption. Lupercus had already forseen their success so now, it was merely a matter of them doing what they did naturally.

As they raced to the hanger bay in which his ship was berthed, Ben prayed that they would be allowed to depart this city planet without incident. They had to move fast since after the Imperial's located the decoy speeder, they would resume and intensify their search for the real perpetrators. He slowly reached into his pocket and felt the torn piece of clothes that had been left behind on the speeder. It had to be something of significance, why else would the force have pushed him towards it.

Ben looked out at the maze of buildings rushing past them at amazing speed and say the spaceport off in the distance finally. He would have been happy, it wasn't for the fact that he concentrated most of his energy on the fine cloth in his fingers. It was Mira's, Ben knew it was, but he kept asking himself the question of where had she gone to. There were so many planets and so many places that it would be difficult to trace.

He was lost in thought and surrounded in the force. Nothing else seemed to matter to Ben at the moment and he lost all track of time and place. His mind was focused on only the where. Like a flash of light or an idea popping into his head, a number appeared.

Just as quickly as it had shown itself to Ben, it vanished when the speeder landed, shaking Ben back into reality. What ever could a number mean? Was it a planet number? Planets didn't have numbers though and if they did, what order would one go in? It was so confusing. He would have to ask Marek for help later on.

As they ran towards the old freighter, Ben saw a man standing beside it. It was another Jedi, Ben could tell and so could Marek. He introduced himself as Max Reem and for reasons he did not know, the force had led him to Coruscant. With no time to waste, Ben invited Max to come along with them and all three ran inside the freighter.

Wanting to get off planet as fast as possible, Ben had even rushed through the preflight checklist, putting all his trust in his previous maintenance of the craft. The sooner they took to space the better, Ben thought as he looked back at his guests. Before him the blueness of the atmosphere turned into blackness of space.

The silent, dreary halls of the Sith Temples remained desolate; every passageway, every hall. All seemed to be held in a state of stupor. The Apprentices, who had for so long adorned the temple, had long since retired for the night; as even power-hungry students needed rest and rejuvenation beyond what their limited abilities in the Force could offer. In some ways, this posed the real nature and capability of those that dwelt within: they merely learned what they could, and simply finished their evening, content in how little knowledge they had truly gained. In truth, it was during these hours, when all was still within the dark halls, that one Master trained in solace. For too long had Vance allowed his own power and ability to remain humbled by the needs of those around him, and for too long had he sought only minor lessons in the nature of the Dark Side; instead of progressing in leaps and bounds in knowledge as should a Master truly do.

Seated in his personal quarters, Vance rested his chin on his right hand, the arms elbow propped upon the table he studied over. The Sith had long since removed his array of robes, including his cloak, and simply sat in a loose fitting garment of unspectacular design. Before the man lay an old book, one that held pages of scribble made in an unfathomable text to most; however, to the educated Sith Master, it was a language that spoke volumes of many, many interesting things…

“Gkat zuj a’daro?” Asked a short, hooded being from the corner of the room. Sitting patiently, almost as if in waiting, the creature looked up from within the confines of the material that covered it’s features. Candle light played lazily across the alien’s features, though it remained concealed well within it’s cloak.

“Speak Basic, Phenrik,” Vance said in a low manner, his eyes remaining on the text before him. He had been using the alien’s knowledge since the time when he had first come into contact with his kind, nigh on several years prior to his coming to the head of the Sith Order. “I tire of your language at such a late hour, and I want to finish this last chapters transcript of your people’s arts, before which we will begin further training in the powers I have been training previously… I think we should continue studies in Flow-Walking.”

“Yes, Master Vance of Sith,” Replied Phenrik, his demeanour returning to that of a patiently waiting servant, with no intentions other than fulfilling those of his master. The being, in question, was one of the ancient Aing-Tii; or more specifically a member of the long descended Aing-Tii Monks, once a leader in the old sect who had sworn an honor-bound pact to the Sith Master. A feat attained through both a simple manipulation of the Aing-Tii beliefs, and a plot devised by Vance. “When you wish, we will begin. The art you read of remains one of the foremost in Aing-Tii abilities, taught only to those within our sect… there remains very few outsiders who know of Flow-Walking, let alone those who can use the power to any degree beyond failure.”

Turning, the Sith narrowed his eyes at the Aing-Tii. Despite Phenrik’s insistence that he was in fact a being of knowledge for the Sith Master, as a form of repaying the debt owed, he still remained very open-willed and insisted that he was not to be treated as a slave; as slavery was a transgression deeply punished for by his order. None the less, Vance had to accept that his need for understanding the Aing-Tii power was far greater than his sense of pride. Besides, which, once he felt that the pact had been fulfilled, he was able to free Phenrik of his instruction and be rid of the creature.

“I am aware,” Vance muttered, focusing his tired eyes on the book. “But constantly having you interrupt my studying does not help me in any way, shape or form…”

“I understand you may feel that way, Master Vance of Sith. However, I just wished to inculcate an understanding of the difficulty associated with learning such an ability. And while your capabilities in Flow-Walking are acceptable, if remains that you could face the failure most outsiders come to face.” The Aing-Tii continued, seemingly unaware of how Vance demanded obedience in his pupils, and how the Sith Master longed for the same to be the case concerning the small alien. “Yet, I shall bide by your need for silence, and wait for you to finish reading…”

After a moment, Vance straightened and closed the book, being sure to replace the reading marker between the appropriate pages. In the months that had followed the Sith Order’s actions on Rodia, Vance had studied under Phenrik’s guiding hand; and while the Sith Master could appreciate the lessons learned, he found it harder still to willingly lower himself to that of student once again.

None the less, Vance still enjoyed maintaining a semblance of control over the situation…

“Very well, let us begin our practices,” Vance said, pushing to his feet with a grunt, walking to a stop before the Aing-Tii. Sitting down to crossed legs in one fluid motion, the Sith came to be at eye level with the seated creature, and waited while the other begin to prepare…

Phenrik closed his large eyes, the smooth plating of his exoskeleton sliding over the orbs in perfect manner. The biology of the species had interested Vance when he had first made contact, but the curiosity had since vanished, being replaced with a mild understanding of their appearance, following knowledge of the Aing-Tii lifestyle. For a few moments more the creature did nothing, save for his clawed hands shifting to rest on his legs, palms upward; then, without word, Phenrik’s presence began to waver, his consciousness reaching out to Vance and coercing him to follow… to do likewise.

Vance closed his eyes, taking up the same posture shown, and fell into himself. His mind was a mass of words, images, feelings and emotions; he had long since learned the subtle manner of silencing himself inwardly, and with a thought all was calm. There was a slight pressure on his mind, and before he realized Vance was looking at the image of Phenrik through his minds eye…



[FONT=Book Antiqua]‘Follow me, Master Vance of Sith, and I will show you how to refine your limited control of Flow-Walking… with my help, you should soon be able to travel of your own will to locations you can but dream about. Time will remain open to you, but you must remain aware of the fact that you can face severe dangers with the use of this ability.’

Vance floated, it seemed, in a void of darkness. He more than heard the words spoken, not simply through his ears, and beyond the simple senses of the physical.

‘And what dangers do you speak of, Phenrik?’ The Sith enquired, pushing the point and wanting an explanation to such a cryptic warning.

‘You may find your mental self lost to your present, if you do not remain connected to your physical being in some manner… this danger can be overcome, though with much difficulty, by manifesting your subconscious presence as something different from yourself. Some Aing-Tii take on forms unlike their physical bodies, such as native animals upon our world, and this helps them remain aware of their Flow-Walking; as the mind can easily mistake what it sees as being real, but can never forget the body it is connected to, leading to the mind to know something is not right - thus reminding the Walker to return to that familiar sense of location… or so it is used by our kind as a precaution.’

Thinking on the words, Vance decided that he would heed the warnings offered by the Aing-Tii; it didn’t come as unlikely that Phenrik would lie to him, given the bond they shared, and it made sense that such an event could occur without caution.

‘I wish to transcend the present and visit the future, Phenrik,’ Vance said suddenly, the demanding tone in his voice not lost on the other being who shared the mind of the Sith. ‘Show me how to travel through the boundaries of my physical form. So far you have shown me how to reach this mental place, but I want to seek more… what of my enemies? Of potential plans made against me? Will I be able to see my death?’

The questions were followed by a chittery laughter, as though Phenrik had expected the likes of that to be asked. Instead, he remained silent for a moment, his thoughts calming to the ripple of anger Vance had shown with his requests; it remained true that most Aing-Tii sought knowledge of the future, but that not everything witnessed could be wholly fated to be as such.

‘You may witness the future, yes,’ Phenrik began, a projection of his physical body appearing before Vance, to float with him in darkness. ‘But at the same time, you must realize that the future changes like a lake; there are many possible ripples one could make, and you need to remember that even the slightest change in the present can alter the pattern. Think of it as this: What if you saw a rock thrown into the water, and decided to place a net to catch it in the future with Flow-Walking? But what if, by placing that net, you alter that event, and instead a larger stone is thrown, breaking through the net you placed? Or different yet, what if the location of the stone changes as a result of your tampering with the flow of time?

‘The Aing-Tii never cease to ponder such occurrences, and this is why we maintain a balance between watchfulness and interference; as Flow-Walking, while giving a clear visage of the future when gazing without our touch or alteration, cannot be relied upon to offer the same future if you deem to change something in your present.’

Vance resisted the urge to dismiss the notion, but knew that Phenrik spoke truth; the Sith Master could sense it, after all. And while he didn’t pretend to know the utmost in the Aing-Tii ways, he could remain open minded enough to believe the idea, at least in a basic form…

‘Very well, Phenrik,’ Vance began, looking beyond the void the two remained within. ‘To say that, I want to look upon the future and see what awaits me…’

‘And where do you wish to see? With my guidance, you may witness tomorrow, or even a decade from now, or even a century. Where do you wish to go, Master Vance of Sith?’

Smiling, Vance remembered back to the change in presence he felt within his Apprentice, Ithron. The young man had changed, in some manner, and the Sith Master had the feeling it had been the loyalty to him that had broken; besides which, there remained an underlying sense of Master Lupercus, but no matter the amount of meditation, Vance could never quite find the other Master’s hand in Ithron’s alteration… until now.

‘Take me to Lupercus, and his meeting with Ithron…’

Phenrik frowned, the plating of his features shifting slightly in response. ‘There are many, Master Vance of Sith… do you offer a more specific period to look upon?’

‘Their first meeting, Phenrik. Show me how Master Lupercus has tainted one of the Sith Order for his own purpose.’

‘Then you seek the past, Master Vance of Sith… prepare yourself, and be mindful of your physical self in this time; for we now leave for another.’

The void suddenly shifted, changing in a blinding motion of movement and light; what was darkness was now day, and what had been nothingness was now a temple where the two beings in question stood. They spoke, both Ithron and Lupercus’ words fading in and out, as too much seemed to pass through what Vance could perceive with his senses.

‘Why can’t I understand them, save for a few words?’ Vance demanded, turning his angry eyes toward Phenrik.

The other seemed calm, apparently listening with great interest and clarity. ‘You have not honed the control you require for this stage in our lessons, and as such you cannot limit the amount of information filtering through to you from the past… as it remains, your mind is receiving too much to allow you to focus on what you wish. In order to gain control, you must limit your mind to what it believes is the here and now… but you must also be wary of falling into a frame of thought that believes this truly is the here and now. Do you understand?’

Vance understood, in a simplistic sense. Phenrik spoke of how he witnessed too broadly of the past, instead of limiting his senses to simply the passageway the two spoke in; which would explain the layering of images that flashed past unwelcome, of other beings and events - each happening at the same time in the past, if Vance’s theory was correct. He even saw a brief image of himself, standing with the few Apprentices who remained, training them in lightsaber art… and that had been around the time the Sith Master had sensed the subtle change in Ithron’s presence toward him; how it had seemingly retreated, pulling back on the bond, so to speak.

Focusing his mind, Vance narrowed his senses to his target: Lupercus. Though it was slow, eventually the other images began to lessen, and the two Sith began to come clear; while at the same time, so too did their conversation…

"Watching and waiting? Decadence and impotence? Foolish child, your falacies disgust me. But your lack of vision is only indicative of what you have been taught... Nothing!"

Lupercus’ words caused Vance to narrow his focus even more so, to feel the emotion that came from the two beings. Ithron devoted himself to Lupercus not long after, the scene playing itself out like a holoprojection. All the while reminding Vance that his efforts up until now had been for naught, that his attempts at bringing a sense of brotherhood to the Sith, where he had often felt it didn’t belong, had been rightfully just. It seemed that the power of the Dark Side did nothing but corrupt, and loyalty remained to those that could offer the most in return for service…

‘You truly disappoint me, Ithron… you truly do.’ Vance said, muttering the words as though he had once believed the other had been a worthy Apprentice. Now, it appeared, Vance would be pressed to rethink how to approach the Sith Order, and how to weed out such disloyalty… perhaps a purge was in question, perhaps Vance’s beliefs that he had long hidden, yet which Lupercus promoted boldly, were past time to come to fore. Always two, it was said. Vance had believed this, but had insisted on allowing Apprentices a chance to learn the Dark Side with the potential of forming an army of Sith; it had seemed the most logical, and had served the best end, in regard to welcoming the many who sought out the Sith on Xa Fel…

‘Do you wish to return, Master Vance of Sith? I fear even my power begins to lack by staying so long in this time…’ Phenrik offered, his small form beside Vance’s, as the two followed the passage of Lupercus and Ithron.

‘Yes… but first, I have a message for Lupercus, and I wish to imprint it for him to witness in my present.’ And smiling, Vance began to listen as the Aing-Tii started to explain that specific use of the Flow-Walking power…[/FONT]



Vance’s eyes opened, his body falling forward as he gasped for air. He looked around wildly, his gaze locking with Phenrik’s before him. “What happened? Why did we leave so suddenly?”

The Aing-Tii’s own breath was labored and he slowly opened his eyes. “You sought to do too much, Master Vance of Sith, with such a limited understanding… I was forced to pull us back to our physical forms, before we had no power to do so, thus being lost to time forever.”

The Sith Master scowled, prepared to threaten the other over such an act; but the simple fact that Phenrik, a master of his Monk ways, had made such a decision held his tongue.

“I think we have done enough for tonight, Phenrik,” Vance said, shifting to his feet, stumbling slightly from the numbness that passed through his legs like lightsaber pricks. “As long as Lupercus receives my words, that is all that matters… he will not be so easily undermining my efforts in future.”

The Aing-Tii bowed, sliding from his perch. He didn’t need to hear the rantings of a Sith, nor did he have the will to remain awake for much longer. “As you wish, Master Vance of Sith… I shall return to my chambers on the top level.”

Turning, Vance walked toward his small desk, listening as the other left without a word. It seemed that both were finding the late night lessons taxing, especially on the Sith Master who had to teach during the day and learn during the night; it had caused Vance’s appearance to change, his skin becoming taunt and his eyes surrounded by darkened skin. He was surviving on the Force, using the power to give him energy to continue day-to-day living… It was time to put an end to that.

Glancing toward the simple cut away window of his chambers, Vance saw light filtering through the opening. It seemed that morning was upon him, and there was no doubt his students would be assembling in the main training area outside, eager to begin their trivial lessons, ever ready to ultimately disappoint the Sith Master with their pathetic, whimsical efforts.

“Master Jas?” Came a low voice from behind the Sith Master. An Apprentice entered the chamber, knocking carefully even as he opened the doorway slowly. “I’ve come to warn you that the Apprentices have been waiting for--”

“Silence,” Vance muttered, his right hand clenching into a tight fist as he narrowed his eyes...

The young man’s words ceased, as his eyes bulged and his face filled with an expression of agony. The Force gripped the lad like a Coruscant hover crane clasped a beam of structural girding; and with a flex from Vance’s mind, the Apprentice let out a short scream, before his body tore in half. His innards fell to the cold stone floor, steaming with the heat that rapidly left them; and without thought, Vance threw the corpse backward into the hallway, allowing the remains to lay haphazardly at his doorway, as both a warning, and a decision made…

“...It is time for some change in this Sith Order.”