Panting, Ithron arrived in the clearing. He knew it had to be the clearing he was looking for, because in the past fifty kilometres, there hadn’t been a gap in the trees of more than a metre of two. As he stepped out of the forest, he swore to himself that he’d get in shape. There were already several apprentices there, and there was some sort of activity on the other side of the clearing, where a faint light could be seen. There were voices coming from that direction, but none of the apprentices were making any effort to go that way.

Look at them! He thought to himself, referring to the other Apprentices. All wearing their robes like they’re some sort of Sith Lord. They don’t understand the Dark Side of the Force yet. They’re just pretending – hoping that if they look like masters, they’ll be as good as them, when really they’re scared and uncertain.

Ithron was indeed wearing a Robe; one far shorter than some that could be seen, but his hood was pulled right back. The cooling breeze blew harder here, through his short hair. Soon, he knew, when the effects of the run had worn off he’d feel the chill of the night, but for now he was enjoying the breeze.

“Jehain Dabore.”

“Excuse me?” Ithron replied to the youth who had broken him out of his musings. Looking at him, Ithron could see he was half a head shorter than him, and possibly a little younger.

“My name. I’m Jehain Dabore. I noticed you earlier.”

“Noticed me? What exactly do you mean by that?” Ithron answered, immediately on his guard.

Jehain laughed. “Whoah. Easy. I’m an apprentice, just like you. First time I saw you was just before this evening stroll. That leads me to believe that you only recently arrived and heard the summons, which kind of implies you knew a little about the force before you came here. So yeah, I noticed.”

Jehain seemed at home on Xa Fel. It was a planet that oozed with the Dark Side, and yet he could still laugh?

Well, wasn’t that was the Dark Side was? Using emotion and passion? Not bottling it up like some Jedi Monk. Maybe Jehain understood it better than I do, thought Ithron.

Speaking, somewhat more relaxed now, Ithron gave his name, and explained a little about his years travelling and doing whatever was necessary, followed by his Jedi Training. Within minutes the two apprentices were talking about their lives and their thoughts and fears. Ithron discovered that the scaled apprentice he had seen in the forest went by the name of Ke’Shak. According to Jehain, Ke’Shak had always been one of the more focussed apprentices, always concentrating on winning at all costs. The rumour was that he had offended more than one of his tutors here on Xa Fel with his arrogance.

When Ithron told him of the confrontation in the forest, Jehain wasn’t surprised. “That’ll be Ali. Aliar, I should say. Ke’Shak’s been at him since he arrived. He was a good lad, I never found out why that scaled bastard hated him so much.”

“You missed out on the good times, friend. They all know each other,” Jehain said, indicating the other apprentices. “You’re a wildcard, noone knows you. That’s something to be thankful for.”

Pulling the robe round him now, Ithron could feel the heat being sapped from his body.

Wildcard. Hah. He thought.

Vance walked into the open clearing, his gaze moving across the number of Apprentices whom had gathered for the training session. Surprisingly the Sith Master noted that Necros had not yet appeared, which flared a small amount of annoyance within Vance; after all, he had given the Sith Knight permission to conduct his own session, at the expense of Vance's own class.

Necros had better show himself soon, Vance thought, reaching out into the surrounding jungle with his senses, attempting to locate the Knight.

Despite himself, Vance couldn't help overhearing the Apprentices. They spoke to one another, telling of the past and how things used to be, and to some degree Vance understood how they could see the state of the Order as being... lacking. However, now that he had returned from his personal business, Vance was confident that the Sith Order would once again return to its former power; and it would be the Apprentices, those loyal to the cause now, in the present, that would reap the rewards for their loyalty.


Walking between the gathered, his hood low over his features, Vance noticed Jehain, one of the more experienced Apprentices, speaking at length with one of the newer arrivals, Ithron. It was pleasant, ironically, to see such bonds starting to grow, and the Sith Master would encourage that such a brotherhood be formed between all members of the Order; after all, while the Sith were seen as untrustworthy, it came to be that Vance promoted strength in self, but also in numbers.

The Jedi outnumber us, as has typically been the case all throughout the past, Vance thought, a grimace crossing his face. But they have yet to succeed against us...

Stopping, the Sith Master's eyes narrowed as a sensation passed through the Force. While the feeling was distant, it could not be denied, and Vance knew that something of grave importance had just occurred within the Jedi Order; and while he could only guess at the origin of the Force felt shimmer, it was only obvious to assume that such a wave of anxiety and fear, in such a large single congregation, could only be that of the Jedi.

"Apprentices," Vance said, as his consciousness returned to him, to the clearing. "It seems that the Jedi have come under a troubling time, as I am sure you may have felt. Perhaps it remains that the Sith shall finally be rid of the Jedi, once and for all, during this time of uncertainty within their ranks..."

Turning to look at the small number of Sith Knights, two in all, Vance nodded; to which each promptly left the clearing, disappearing into the jungle on the silent command to leave Xa Fel and discover more information concerning the Jedi Order.

"We shall continue with this training session," Vance continued, returning his attention to that of the Apprentices. "However I warn you all to be on your guard, and prepare to act at a moments notice. We may only have one chance to attack while the Jedi are helpless and confused."

Looking about, Vance searched the area for Necros. He had better reveal himself soon; otherwise he will pay for his inability to remain reliable.

However, it worst came to worst, Vance would simply take over the training of the Apprentices; particuarly the newer of the arrivals, Ithron, whom had managed to catch the Sith Master's notice...

Ithron did not recognise the Sith Master who spoke to them, but nonetheless he could sense his presence through the Force. Instinctively, Ithron could tell that this Master would make a dangerous enemy!

Speaking more to himself than to anyone else, Ithron murmured "Wow." under his breath. Similar utterances were leaving the mouths of all the other apprentices. Now that the Master had mentioned it, Ithron realised that he could indeed sense the tremble in the Force. It was almost like a distant rumble at a very low pitch. He could make no detail out, but it was there.

"Heh. So, life just got interesting huh?" Jehain said to Ithron. Ithron realised it was the first sound any of the apprentices had made since the shock news.

"Hmm?" Ithron was thinking to himself. Thoughts were starting to formulate.

Why were Sith Knights here? And a Master of such high standing? And where is the Sith who told us to meet here....? Ithron was thinking. Something's going on here, and we're in the middle of it.

"Jehain..." he began. "That Master.....who is he?"

"Him? Hmm. Give me an easy question why don't you! His name is Vance Jas. I can tell you that much for certain. Anything else is hearsay. He watches the apprentices a lot, and takes an interest. He doesn't do much training himself though, from what I hear; I think he prefers to watch from a distance. Watch out if he speaks to you."

"Why?"

"A Sith Master? Speaking to an Apprentice? If he speaks to you, it means he's taken an interest in you. When someone like Master Vance Jas takes an interest in you, it's either because he's intrigued by you or you've annoyed him. So you'll either learn more than you ever dreamed possible about the ways of the Force, or you'll be dead within the hour."

Sitting down on the floor of the clearing, Ithron started to get himself in a comfortable position. "I see. Thanks Jehain. I'll watch out for him."

"Hey, what are you doing?" said Jehain.

"Meditating. You should try it. Granted, I learned it off the Jedi, but I think I can put a Sith spin on it. Feel like joining me?"

"Now?!"

"Can you think of any time you've needed the Force to be with you more than now?"

"Good point"

Ignoring the looks coming from the other Sith in the clearing, Ithron sat down. Closing his eyes and reaching out with the Force, Ithron sensed the presence of the Apprentice next to him, and those further away. More vividly, he 'saw' the Sith Master in the clearing, against the backdrop of the Force-saturated forest. Around him, he felt the Force flow. This was his standard technique. Of all his Force abilities, this alone seemed to be not rusty.

Focussing on the forest itself, he sensed its life force through the Force. He asked it questions, he gave it answers, he drew on its knowledge. All night he'd been thinking how much the forest must 'know' of the Force. Now was the time to find out. Images flashed through his mind. Images of Sith Knights battling with one another, apprentices training and masters talking. Ships landed and left. The Forest had stood years. So long in fact, that the beginning was beyond memory. Its collective memory was full of things - some good, some bad, and some indifferent.

The forest, through the Force, had a life of its own - almost. Not life in the true sense of sentience, but within the Force, it was its own being. With its own emotions. These emotions filtered down to Ithron. Hatred of the Jedi shared by generations of Sith Knights filled him, bitterness at the true use of the force being shunned and their kind being relegated to a hidden planet.

As he sat there, a desire rose in Ithron to know more of the Dark Side. Until this moment, he has been a Sith Apprentice in name only. Now, he knew what it meant to be a Sith.

All my life I've sold my skills to the highest bidder....but now I have a purpose. I will learn of the Force, and when the Sith rise to greatness, I will rise with them, and be part of it. When the Jedi fall, I will be there to witness it....

Ithron didn't think this so much as know it. He didn't think thoughts of this kind - it was too grand. Too verbose. But perhaps now was a time for verbose?

Opening his eyes, he stood. Stepping over the meditative form of Jehain, he made his way to Master Vance Jas - the one person in the area who might understand what had happened to him just then - and the massive change it meant.

"Lord Master." he began, sinking to a knee in front of him, hoping his words wouldn't result in swift, searing death. "I know of the Force. I know of the Dark Side. I understand what it means to be Sith."

He paused, avoiding the gaze of the older Sith. He couldn't think how to put his experience in a way that would do it justice.

Bowing his head, he continued.

"Train me, Master. I want to learn of the Dark Side." Looking up, some of the resilience of the Dark Side came to him, and he looked the Master in the eyes. "You train me, and I will give myself to the Dark Side. I will see the Sith restored."

Having said his piece, the thought occurred to Ithron that this could very well be the end of his training, and indeed, his life.

"Lord Master."

Vance glanced to his right, an eyebrow raised, as he looked down at the kneeling figure of Ithron. Apparently the young Apprentice had worked up the courage to seek an informal audience with the Sith Master. Vance had been watching the idle Apprentices moments before, taking note of how they chose to bide their time while they awaited the arrival of Necros. Most seemed content to wait in silence, with only a select few speaking to one another, yet it had been the newest arrival who had, once again, gained Vance's attention through the choice he made...

"I know of the Force. I know of the Dark Side. I understand what it means to be Sith."

Vance merely smiled; not pleasant, however, but no words were spoken as he waited for the boy to continue. The Sith Master would reserve his judgement of the Apprentice until such time as he tested Vance's patience; which at the present time was close to passing into costly on Ithron's behalf.

If only I had a Sith Master for every time I have heard that from an Apprentices mouth...

None-the-less, the Apprentice continued, much to Vance's approval. While enthusiasm was smiled upon, there remained more to simply stating obvious facts without an appeal of some kind to merit requiring the Sith Master's attention...

"Train me, Master. I want to learn of the Dark Side. You train me, and I will give myself to the Dark Side. I will see the Sith restored."

Vance waited a moment, letting the silence of the clearing become deafening. The other Apprentices had fallen quiet, each glancing toward the exchange, their eyes questioning as to the outcome of the request. As far as knew, there had been only two Apprentices to have asked Vance for personal training, and of those two only one had been given the opportunity... only to fail, following the mixture of high expectation and dismal servitude witnessed by the Sith Master.

However, against his better judgement, Vance decided to allow the Apprentice the chance he asked, to which he would eventually break under the strict teaching offered by the Sith Master. After all, there had been only a single, consecutive line of Apprentices who passed the training Vance gave, and the Sith Master himself had been the last to complete the journey under the guidance of his own Master.

"You seek to learn from me, this much is true," Vance said, his voice low yet loud enough to startle most of the Apprentices who had been listening intently. "However I wonder if you truly understand that which you request? I have taken but two Apprentices as my own, both of which has failed me completely... and both of which have become one with the Force."

Inclining his head, Vance continued to look down at Ithron, the Sith Master's blue eyes gleaming. "You wish for power, for lessons you simply cannot learn through the limited teachings offered by Sith Knights," The Sith Master's gaze shifted to the Apprentices who stood nearby, attention focused on the two who spoke; to which they turned away, seeking to find something, anything, to take their attention. "Yet I wonder if you truly know of the lessons you seek, of the results you may find through such intimate self exploration and understanding?"

Vance motioned for Ithron to stand, beckoning the Apprentice to follow.

"By being here, I expect that you have already made the decision to completely devote yourself to the dark side," Vance said, walking as quietly as the silent jungle around. "I know of your past, of the insight gained thanks to the Jedi. While some Sith, those who are preceived as most ignorant, simply dismiss the lessons taught by the light siders, it remains that in the whole scheme of understanding, it is required on some level to at least know of the Jedi way... if only to fully grasp as much knowledge as possible, for to out rightly ignore another whole separate idealology of the same source would be imperceptive.

"I do not expect you to begin seeking to find the balance between the light or dark side, for it simply cannot be done while you are devoted to an ideal, such as the ways of the Sith; yet, by the same notion, I expect you to find the source of power that best gains the results you require. While this may be considered evil by some, seen as selfish, I ask you this: A Force sensitive can touch the Force, to use the power supplied by this cosmic entity for great feats, yet at times require that they go against the flow of the will of the Force in favour of completing a task of immediate importance... whether for personal benefit or other.

"So, if the latter statement denotes a dark use of the Force, then to which category would you place this situation: A Force sensitive has been fighting a battle, it matters not what for, and during the course of this battle his comrade faces the prospect of dying at the hands of the enemy. Out of choice, the Force Sensitive reacts and attempts to save his companion's life, only to consciously alter the will of the Force to complete the act of heroism. Yet by doing so, by saving another beings' life, he has gone against the very will of the Force entity... so does this indicate an act of selfishness, or of selflessness?"

Vance stopped walking, turning to look at the young man close by. The two had long since left the clearing, leaving the other Apprentices to the whims of Necros, and now stood at the base of a small temple that was all but invisible amid the thick jungle surrounding its small structure. The temple top was but an entrance, which would lead underground via a long spiralling stairwell, down to lower levels that would serve as the setting for Vance's initial testing of the potential personal Apprentice... once he had the boy's answer.

As the Master spoke to him, Ithron's fear became very real. Whatever had possessed him to ask Master Vance Jas for this had fled and left him cold and alone in the clearing. He was entirely himself again, but the Force was with him - he knew it.

I have taken but two Apprentices as my own, both of which has failed me completely...

Ithron wanted to stand, to look the Master in the eyes once more and say "I shall not fail you, Master." But it would have been a lie. Ithron knew it, and what's more, the Sith Master would certainly have known it. As the Master toyed with the idea of training this brash young Apprentice, Ithron waited, his life in the balance.

Walking out the clearing, Ithron noticed out of the corner of his eye, the other apprentices. Only Jehain, freshly awoken from his own meditation, met his eye. Wildcard, he mouthed, and Ithron nodded inperceivably in reply.

Yet by doing so, by saving another beings' life, he has gone against the very will of the Force entity... so does this indicate an act of selfishness, or of selflessness?

His heart racing and his brain working, Ithron told himself to relax. He would answer as he thought - If the answers he gave weren't right, he would soon know it.

"Neither, Master." Ithron said. "Selflessness is the act of giving for the greater good. Selfishness is the act of taking for the personal good. What you described is neither."

Pausing, and able to observe no reaction from the silent Master, Ithron continued.

"My way of looking at it is this, Master: The Force is only an entity insofar as it is made up of the individual lives of everyone in the galaxy. I mean, if suddenly, right now, the personality of everyone in the galaxy was to change, then surely the Force would not be the same as the Force as it is now. The Force is dynamic, it changes and responds. It acts and reacts."

Ithron's gaze fell on the temple, as it protruded from the ground. Statues and shapes on the top, tributes to the Sith of generations gone by looked down on him. Strangely, they seemed to reassure him.

"The will of the Force then, is dynamic and changing. My enemy wants my comrade dead, and so at that moment, the will of the Force is for him to die. But if I was to prevent that from happening, that is because my will is stronger than my enemy's and so I have changed the will of the Force from wanting my comrade dead, to wanting him alive..."

Ithron trailed off, unsure as to whether the words he had spoken made sense. In his own head, they did. But here....in the forest, in the open, they seemed to shrivel and fade.

"'Neither' is my answer, Master." He said again, inclining his head towards the man who held Ithron's fate in his hands.

"Tell me young Perrin, do you love her?"

"I... " the younger Descartes was at a loss for words. In his confusion he turned to his elder, "What is love?"

The other watched his son shift against the chains attached to his flesh, pulling at his muscles causing the younger man to reaffirm his stance or face unbridled pain.

"In a word, a tool. Lesser beings feel an attachment to different items such as fellow beings or even material objects. Love is ultimately a selfish conception for everyone wants it, even mass murderers. Some sort of otherworldly desire to have someone look upon you with some sort of approval or at the very least, understanding. Love is a double-edged sword for it will either create within one a dependence that lessens the individual or it will create within one an almost unparalleled reservoir of power.

"So.." the younger Descartes gritted his teeth, "..to achieve this power, I must feel this love?"

The older one chuckled. "Love is but one path to this unleashing of power. It is not the end-all-be-all of existence that the poets sing of. Love is only the beginning. For love is the birth of desire. Desire, once awakened, feeds and perpetuates itself. Love is the hint that the object of one's desire will hold the keys to their eventual happiness.

The greater the desire, the greater the happiness and satisfaction from having that desire sated.

Tell me, Perrin. What is your desire?"


Perrin lifted his head, clearly tired and knowing he was at the end of his strength. The two chains (one on each arm) were linked to his skin on one end held several solid durasteel slabs over two pulleys on either side. The weight was light enough for him to grab the chains with his hands to prevent them from falling and ripping the skin off his arms but heavy enough to eventually wear on his endurance.

The son quirked his lips. "I'd love to have these weights lowered."

The father let out a laugh. He swung around clipping his son's legs out from under him. The action so startled Perrin that he lost his grip on the chains and the slabs fell.

The younger Descartes' scream echoed through empty corridors and as the son lay curled, his hands shaking in his own blood, his father knelt down looking at the hatred in his son's eyes.

"By itself, love always fails. A lesson I am sure you will not forget."

The elder Descartes felt the rage building behind the mask of disarming humor in his son. "Hatred and anger allow you to access the power and access abilities others cannot. But hatred is not self perpetuating. Because eventually, for hatred or anger to be fully realized, the object of your hatred must be destroyed."

He smiled. "And where will you be then?"

Despite the wailing of his son, he knew his words were sinking into the boy's subconscious.

"You have an exceptional ability, Perrin. The Jedi saw that and your mother planned on giving you to their order. I stopped her for I too saw your potential."

The father knelt down and brushed his son's hair back across his face. "You will not be the only person with your kind of abilities. There will be many, in fact.

So, the question, my boy, is how do you exist in a galaxy full of gods?


They will seduce you with syrup for words and chain you to organizations for some unfathomable greater good. Know these for the traps that they are."





Perrin stood to the side as he watched the circus play out. The Grand Master of the Sith Order was asking a question and the apprentice before him was prevaricating.

He was babbling something that ulitmately amounted to the apprentice straddling the fence too scared to give the wrong answer.

The apprentice was enraptured with the stories surrounding the Sith and perhaps felt he wanted to be a part of a romantic holo-drama.


"All for one and one for all.." he muttered to himself. The very concept behind the Jedi Code... everyone banding together for some greater good called justice.

But whose justice?

The Jedi would break the Force down into cogs in a great spinning wheel of purpose. But to shatter it completely, one only had to break a single cog ultimately causing the wheel to spiral out of control and towards a destiny undesired. The ultimate weakness of the Jedi Order was their unfailing tendancy to humble themselves before each other and their inferiors.

The Sith humble themselves before no one. Not even each other.

For it is not the sum of the entire Sith Order that accounts for the Darkside. No, the Darkside can equally be represented by a single Sith as many had shown for millenia in following the commands laid out by the long deceased Darth Bane.

He caught glimpses of the future as he tried to comprehend the vision of the Sith Grand Master before him.

A galaxy where empires trembled at the sight of a single Sith. The embodiment of all that the Darkside promises and the representation that the Force lay bare before them to command...

Dominate...

Control...

Wield...

Reap...

Revel...


Already the Sith Order was escaping the hooks that the vaunted Galactic Empire thought to put into them.

And while they enjoyed a life of prestige within this Empire, it was merely a waiting place before their destiny's were decided.


He smirked. A religious person might call it Purgatory.


Imagine that. The Empire as Purgatory.


The middle point between ultimate success or dismal failure.


The double-edged sword.


His eyes narrowed. You cannot sit on a double-edged sword and think you will not get cut, apprentice...


His fingers felt the scars on his forearms and the memory was touched.


Sitting on the fence does not become gods...


The will of the power matters not. The will of the wielder of that power however...


..that is everything.

Mira sat in her room at the Sith Temple, meditating. It had been a full forty-eight hours since she had arrived, and since the welcome from Kraken she had been alone. Not an unknown state for her, of course; the last year had been spent in solitary either on her home planet of Dathomir or travelling about the galaxy. Her search for the planet Xa Fel had led her to Coruscant, Korriban, and several other nameless planets before reaching its fulfillment. Now that she was here, though, that desire for instruction simply grew.

She had heard once that unfulfilled desire was one of the many traits of the Jedi. Perhaps it had been Master Horn who had spoken those words. Or one of the other Masters at the Jedi Academy. No matter. Those days were long past, and the Dark Side was now the focus of her attention. She believed that the Sith Order taught fulfillment of desire, but she was beginning to have her doubts. In fact, it seemed as though the Jedi and the Sith weren't so different. Perhaps she had been mistaken in coming here.

Her wisdom was far beyond her years. From childhood she had trained as a Jedi, first at the Academy under Master Skywalker, then as an apprentice to Master Horn, and finally under the tutalage of a multitude of Masters. But the wisdom she had gained since leaving the blind teachings of the Jedi more than a standard year before was greater than for the previous eighteen years of her life. The Dark Side, if used properly, could be the tool by which order was restored to the fractured galaxy. And it would soon be her tool.

Her teachings with the Jedi had been nearly complete, and had she remained there was little doubt that she would have been granted Knighthood soon. She looked back on her decision with little regret, though. It had been the right choice. Either way, there was no returning now. She had made her decision; it was time to live with the consequences. She smiled slightly. Another of those useless Jedi maxims. She had much to unlearn before she could begin to learn.

Her meditations were interrupted. A voice, or a feeling, she didn't know which, but she did know it was a summons. Through the Force, no less. It came again, less subtle this time, invading her mind, planting the desire to come. In less than three seconds Mira had vaulted to her feet and called her lightsaber to her hand. Clipping it to her belt, she exited her room, following the direction of the call, and her mind once again dissolved into thought.

This time she thought about the weapon at her belt. She was more than a little surprised it had not yet been taken from her by the Sith Masters, to be returned upon completion of her training. The weapon itself was forged from crystals taken from lightsabers she had found inside a rancor's cave. The rancor itself was dead, killed by Mira in an exhausting battle. She had built the weapon as a dual-phase blade, partially to impress and honor her current Master. Corran Horn was one of the few Jedi who had built such a blade. Now he was gone - lost somewhere, she assumed - and she didn't know any others who had a lightsaber like his. Except for her.

When she reached the top of the temple, she found Master Necros and several other apprentices gathered already. At his instructions, she smiled. The Dathomirian warrior-girl had survived challenges greater than this before. This little run would be nothing compared to the rancor. She checked that thought, though; with the rancor she had at least had a vibrosword.

Determining that her lightsaber would remain at her belt, she began running down the temple stairs. Three other apprentices were in front of her, including the one called Ithron. She was content to let them remain there. Her skills were in stalking, in remaining hidden and in the background. Let the others have the glory - Mira would have the victory.

As the apprentices began speeding through the woods, Mira slackened her pace. Let the others deal with the predators, she thought. Silently she ran, calling on her limited abilities to shield her presence from the local wildlife. Running in and out of shadows, she managed to avoid detection for some time. Apparently the other apprentices were intecepting the predators. At least, that was until Ithron met the bears.

At that point Mira passed him, more like a shadow than a being. At once she became a target. One beast in particular picked her and began the hunt; she felt its mind revert to its predatory nature. It stalked her through the undergrowth, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Not content to be prey for a carnivorous animal, Mira used the Force to flip a strong, pointed stick into one hand and a fist-sized rock into the other, never breaking stride. The beast remained content to stalk, and Mira continued to run.

After several minutes, the beast tired of its game. Moving with incredible speed, it launched itself from the shadows, intending to rip the human in half with one pass. Mira felt the attack coming and rolled, driving the stick upward as she did so, hoping to catch the beast in the stomach. No such luck. She barely had a glimpse of two rows of razor-teeth as the shape flew past.

Mira came out of her roll on her feet, stick pointed like a sword at her attacker. Her eyes took in the sight. Long snout, two rows of teeth. Six legs, the foremost with three-inch claws. Body long and lean, covered in gray and black hair. Yellow eyes. Quickly recalling her studies, she recognized the creature. Wolfin, she thought. One of the deadliest, most silent creatures to stalk the galaxy. Briefly she thought of using her lightsaber, but the Sith Master's words rose up in her mind. Nothing but your feet and your hands. This would be an interesting fight.

The creature growled as it circled, searching for an opening. Mira circled as well, making sure to keep the pointed end of the stick facing her opponent. Then, ever so slightly, she let the point droop. The wolfin moved faster than she had anticipated, but she was quicker. The hand holding the stone came around with blinding speed, crashing into the animal's head even as Mira spun away. The wolfin stumbled as it landed, briefly stunned. Thrown off balance by the strike, the beast never saw the lance that pierced its side and drove it into the ground or the stone that crushed its skull.

Mira stood over her would-be killer, pleased with herself, though disappointed that the fight was over so quickly. Her pleasure came from the fact that trickery and deceit had once again served her so well. But now back to the task at hand. Once again Mira slipped into the shadows and ran towards the rendezvous.

She arrived at the clearing with no further incident. Several apprentices had gathered already. Ithron was just arriving as well. She remembered the boy from the Academy, though that had been years ago, before Master Horn had taken her as his Padawan. She wondered how he had come to his decision to leave. Was it for the same reason as her?

Mira reached out through the Force, barely skimming the surface of the boy's feelings. No, he had not left to save something or to bring order. His mind was too full of hate, to passionate about destruction. He was a resource to be used, nothing more.

She remained in the shadows for some time, allowing the Force and her black rancor-hide clothing hide her from prying eyes. As she did, she took the measure of each of the apprentices. Some, like Ithron, were full of hate, others filled with passion. Few were cool and calculating, like herself, but to those minds she was drawn. Honing in on one, she emerged from the woods and strode towards him.

She never reached him, though. Master Vas Jance's appearance startled her and refocused her attention completely. Here was a man she could respect. He had a sense of detachment about him; the anger was there, but it was controlled. He had a larger plan, and those around him simply fit into it. She smiled. He would be a fine teacher.

Before she could move, though, Ithron had approached and asked for the opportunity to train under the Master. With his acceptance, her ire rose. Ithron, so full of hate, could be used, but never would he make the leader worthy of a Sith Master's attention. Or so it was to her mind. Nevertheless, she remained in her place, waiting for Master Necros to arrive and begin training the new students. She looked forward to it.

Necros had arrived at the designatied field well ahead of everyone else. Looking back into the jungle, he reached out with the force and felt the other apprentices racing to join him, as well as one or two other stronger presences. Necros wondered at this, but it was probably just one or two of the Masters coming to look over or join in the training session. After all, if even one fourth of the students made it through their training, this batch of apprentices would be the most promising the Sith Order had seen in sometime. Necros decided to whip up a little suprise for the arriving apprentices, and so disappeared into the jungle just as the first students began to arrive.

While he went about his duties, the students, a few of them missing, arrived, along with Master Vance Jas. The students, seeing their Knight tutor absent from the clearing, starting to pay more attention to Jas, perhaps mistankenly believing that he would take over the teaching from here. The one called Ithron certainly didn't appreciate the patience that was being forced upon him, and was asking Master Jas to be his apprentice. Necros grimaced at the student's impatience in waiting to complete the training session. While ambition was a good thing, impatience could get you killed in a hurry. It's not always about being powerful, sometimes it was also about being cautious and clever.

Finding what he was looking for in the jungle nearby, Necros manipulated the force to gain the attention and trust of the creatures at hand, to manipulate their instincts, their tiny brains. Then, he emerged from the treeline into the clearing. Coming behind him was a pack of about ten garrals, somewhat vicious beasts that normally hunted by sensing sound vibrations similar to those generated by repulsorlifts. In this case, Necros would provide the students with some lightsabers, which emitted the same signal while ignited and humming. He tossed the lightsabers to the students, then began speaking.

"Your first task in this clearing is quite simple. It is to be a lesson of tatics, physical abilites, and pain. You have each been provided with a single lightsaber. Your goal is to kill all the beats that are present. When you are ready to begin, you may ignite your lightsabers. You may work with each other, or against each other, but understand this, these weapons are to be used only against the beasts, not each other." said Necros in a cold voice accenting the last sentence.

One of the apprentices, eager to please his masters, ignited his lightsaber immediatley. Necros smiled, and released his hold of the beast's minds. With a growling anger, all of the animals present charged after the impatient apprentice.

Mira watched as Necros stepped silently out of the woods. As she saw the beasts behind him, she realized that his Force manipulations had been the reason the journey had been so easy. When Necros pulled out a few lightsabers, Mira caught one and examined it. Hastily constructed, it seemed to be of a lower quality than her own. But Master Necros had decreed that she use it, and so she would. But nothing prohibited her using two.

One of the apprentices had ignited his saber prematurely. Patience is a virtue, she thought as she watched the garrals swarm the impetuous apprentice. Attracted to the lightsaber, perhaps? she wondered to herself. Another apprentice ignited his weapon, and the garrals began to divide their attention. Her suspicions confirmed, Mira chuckled at the apprentices' bumbling attempts at controling the gyroscopic effects of the blade. Time to show them how to handle a weapon.

The burning red blade appeared in the space between Mira and the animals, attracting the attention of four of them. Two, younger beasts, charged rapidly, while two older ones hung back and watched. Mira smiled. The beasts were quick, but not as quick as even the wolfin. Red energy slashed once, twice, and the two charging garrals fell. One no longer had a head, the other was missing two legs. A quick stab finished the second.

The remaining two garrals were more cautious. Having seen their comrades fall, they circled until one was on either side of Mira. Her senses completely alert, Mira felt the movements of the beasts, heard their footsteps on the grass, smelled their foul breath. These animals were wiser, more intelligent than the rest. But Mira always had enjoyed challenges.

Grabbing her own saber off her belt, an emerald-white blade joined the red in scintilating through the air. With one saber pointed at each garral, Mira spun with the animals, waiting for their attack. A split second before the attack she felt one shift forward. Ducking, she felt the rush of wind as the beast flew over her, and the green blade sliced upward. The garrel fell, effectively cut into symmetrical pieces from nose to tail. Mira came to her feet, both blades pointed at the nose of the final garral, which stopped an inch short of skewering itself.

Feinting left, the beast moved right and lunged. A spin with her left blade effectively decapitated the animal, dropping it in its tracks. Her awareness at its highest, Mira knew that the other apprentices had taken care of the other garrals, though at some cost to themselves. Several of the apprentices were down with bites, and two had cut themselves with their own lightsabers. Mira snorted. Beasts and novices, she thought derisively. Not much different.

Clipping her own lightsaber to her belt, she stepped forward and knelt at Necros's feet. Holding out the loaner saber, she said, "Master, your weapon." No airs, no bragging, just a simple submissive statement. She felt envy from a few of the apprentices as she waited for a response. Something to deal with later, she thought.

[OOC: Vance, if you want to detail the remainder of Ithron's encounter with Vance, please feel free. I didn't mean to cut that short. We did agree that Ithron would return when Necros resumed training, so I'm just making sure I get my twopennyworth in, now i'm not the only apprentice anymore :D ]

IC:

Ithron had returned moments before the Sith Knight. Master Vance Jas had led him back to the clearing and left him. During their brief discussion, Ithron had learned a lot, a lot about himself, and a lot about his own intentions. Of course, the Master had refused to take him on as an apprentice right now - he must complete his initial training first....but it hadn't been ruled out as a possibly for the future.

If I show him how good I am....If I show him that I can remake the Sith Order....then he'll have to take me on. He'll have to. thought Ithron. Unable to recognise the arrogance that was emerging in himself, Ithron was unaware of the feelings of the other apprentices towards him.

Looking around after Master Vance left him, he spotted a girl looking intently at him. She was pretty but there was a cold regard in her eyes that chilled Ithron. Ithron could have sworn he had seen her before, but he couldn't for the life of him put his finger on exactly where and when.

Probably just some customer from a station where I worked....he thought. What's taking so long? When do we get started?

Speaking with the Sith Master had given Ithron a taste for training and learning about the Force. He was blissfully unaware of the reaction his obvious impatience was getting from the Sith Knight.

After receiving the briefing, Ithron fingered the lightsaber hungrily. He admired it, turned it over and looked at every piece of it.

A saber of his own...

"you may ignite your lightsabers..."

Even as the last syllables were leaving the Knight's lips, Ithron ignited the saber, and stood mesmorised by its beauty. In truth, the blade was created by the crudest form of artificial crystals, giving a dull red glow. No Sith Knight would ever dream of using a weapon like this one - it was far too imprecise - an apprentice's weapon...not the weapon of a knight.

But Ithron didn't care for any of this, or any of the science. Swinging the blade gently, he found himself surprised by the lack of weight of the blade. Only the hilt had any mass to it, and so it would be easy to cut his own ear off.

This time, using the force, Ithron attempted to see a branch of a tree that was behind him. Having identified it in the force, Ithron held the image in his mind, and closing his eyes, turned around and swung the saber. Opening them, he saw he had chopped the branch clean in half.

Damn, he thought. I was aiming a half inch to the right.

By this time, the beasts were level with the apprentices, and all but a few of them had their lightsabers out and on. Holding the saber in his right hand, with his left hand in front and to the left for balance, Ithron braced himself for the beast that charged him, aware that at the Jedi Academy, an apprentice had to train for weeks to even hold a saber and here, he had been on Xa Fel less than two days.

Talk about being thrown in the deep end, he thought. Catching the eye of Jehain, the apprentice with whom he had been talking earlier, Ithron nodding and got a grin in reply.