(The planning thread is here.)

As Myles Asher woke up in the early morning, the blonde in his bed next to him was still sleeping. He wasn’t sure if he could remember her name, but certainly she didn’t care in her current condition. The mix of alcohol, drugs and sex of last night had made her pass out. Per usual Myles would be so kind to allow the woman sleep it off, before showing her the door. Of course he wouldn’t do it himself; it was part of his butler’s duty. Myles had more important plans for today.

Finally they had arrived yesterday: Two big almost plain containers with more than delicate content. The cretin of a grave robber didn’t know what true treasure he was selling to the Coruscanti billionaire. He believed it had been two semi-finished sculptures, thinking he had overreached the other man as he left with a generous fee. But Myles knew better. Since months he had searched for traces of the legend, just to find out that fiction was indeed fact.

After getting dressed and a breakfast consisting of a cup of caf and a stim-shot, Myles used the elevator to reach one of the lower levels of his residence. This floor of the building was for his eyes only literally as the door was secured by a retina scan. No other living being was allowed to enter. The cleaning and maintenance was attended by droids; their memories wiped out on a regular basis.

Myles walked through the huge room, passing shelves and show cases full of different artefacts. Lightsabers, robes, holocrons, ancient datapads, sculptures, everything with a connection to the order of the Sith, that he got hold of over the last years.

Opening the new arrived containers, Myles used an anti-grav unit to unload the heavy carbonite blocks, which were showing the features of a man and a woman. He looked at them for a long moment, running his fingers over their lithified bodies, studying the pain in their faces caused by the freezing procedure. Since they arrived, Myles just had one thought running through his mind. He would free them from their age-long prisons. Right now the urge to do it immediately was so powerful, that Myles had to fight it down. One mistake while the process would be enough to cause the death of his precious assets.

Carefully he studied the display of the carbonite block, containing the female. After reading everything about the unfreezing procedure and the hibernation sickness it was causing, Myles had decided that it would be better to start with the woman. After all he would be physically superior to her. It would be easier to control her than the male warrior.

“Only a short while until you’re free, my beauty.” He ran a finger along her jaw line again, before typing a combination into the pad next to the display at the block’s side. Surprised Myles stepped backwards as the carbonite started to melt, exposing the woman inside. She took a very deep breath, almost in shock, as oxygen filled her lungs again after all the centuries.

Myles stared at her full of awe for a moment. She seemed so beautiful, so fragile, but he also sensed her power, which felt overwhelming. She heard his gasp and her head turned around to him as she tried to get up.

“Careful,” Myles said, stepping closer again to help her. „It’s hibernation sickn…” He couldn’t finish his sentence as she reached out with hand, force-pushing him through the room. Myles crashed into one of the shelves, groaning as he tried to get back on his feet again. Before he even considered if it would be smart to grasp one of the sabers behind him, his throat was choked by her pure willpower.

With an elegance Myles never had seen before, the female Sith rose, towering now almost above him on the ground. Her voice was like velvet, almost conflicting to the content of her words. “Now you’ll free my brother and then I will decide if you are worthy to live or not.”

First Dance

Her sleep had not been peaceful. Her dreams filled with nightmares and visions of both her own glory the agony of her past. What had been stripped away from her as punishment by the Sith lay scared with in her own flesh, but from it the flame of vengeance burned deep within her soul. Soon all of those she had out lived would burn in her wraith and the universe would see the true power of the Force.

Sheer willpower was what gave the woman the strength to stand outside of her frozen cell with no assistance. Her body was shaking violently from what one would assume to be shock from the extreme temperature change. Of course her body would be going through shock from being frozen for so long, but inside of her the hatred burned. It gave her aching bones the warmth they needed to be firm as she took a steady step forward. Her arm still outstretched gripping the life of the man who had freed her. Who was he? She could easily sense that he was a sensitive with the force but unlike her he was untrained; he was but a child playing with a fire that he did not understand. His ignorance left him vulnerable to her whims as the woman reached out to him with the Force not caring if he was willing or not. Ezra could feel his shock, his fear, and yet his fascination with her.  A very slow yet coy smile played on her lips as the woman knew she had found a new and very useful tool.  Still unable to see Ezra lifted her arm enjoying the sounds of him gasping for his precious air as the man’s feet now barely touched the ground.  Easily the Sith flicked her wrist tossing him towards what direction she assumed her brother to be in. Cocking her head to the side Ezra turned to face Myles, although still being blind she only assume his direction with her senses so she was a tad bit off. She could not hear the man moving, but only his pitiful groans from her attack. The woman narrowed her eyes, “You’ve awoken us for a reason yes? So free him before I grow weary of your presence.”

Reaching to adjust the collar of his shirt Myles looked up at the woman still a bit in awe over the amount of sheer power that radiated off of her. There she was almost naked with nothing, but white bandages wrapped around the more private parts of the female body.  She ought to be the helpless damsel reaching out to him for assistance or even thanking him yet here he was trembling in her presence as the blind woman threatened to kill him. The man gave her a soft smile, “If you kill me…you will not get to your brother.”

“My eyesight will return in a few hours. I could simply wait and end your life.”
So she knew how carbonation sickness worked? “And what promise do I have that you won’t simply kill me after I open it.”

Ezra smirked taking another careful step as she moved like the huntress going to stalk her prey, “Because you will have proven yourself useful.” Her voice was smooth, and alluring now as the woman sized up his potential quickly. “You know what I am, seen what I can do, so are you not envious of me?”

“I simply was not prepared.”

Ezra laughed at his response, “Oh? What sweet little lies.” The woman smirked going to open her eyes, “Then prepare yourself and come…if you take me down I’ll submit to you.”

The man arched a brow at the woman suddenly realizing he had been challenged.  Well he had the advantage here didn’t he? She could not see where he was and now he had the drop on her even if it was because she was allowing it. Suddenly he sensed something flying towards his head and he reached out to grab it. The man blinked seeing that in his hand was the hilt of one of the lightsabers from the display on the wall.

During their conversation the woman had reached out to the room getting a feel for her surroundings. Even if her sight was gone she could still sense the layout of the room now with the use of the Force. Already in her hand was a lightsaber of her own as she still stood there waiting for his attack. It seemed the man was not as foolish as he first acted though as he did not openly run towards her. Smiling to her to self the woman spoke this time teasing him, “I can sense your fear. Yet again I meet a boy who wants to be a man. Yet all he is just empty, cowardly words and lies.” She paused, “You can’t bring yourself to do it can you?”

There was silence for a second as the man tensed and the woman could sense the rage inside of him building up. She had clearly had struck a nerve to his manhood of some kind. Smiling to herself she continued her taunt, “You’ve never even killed someone have you? Or at least been courageous enough to do it yourself…you poor pampered child you’ve never been able to do anything all by yourself have you?” Shaking her head in disgust reached out her hand almost tenderly like a mother beckoning to her child, “Here sweetie, hand it over before your hurt yourself.”

There was a snap in his logic as she her attempts to emasculate him had done their trick. The man swung forward although he had little actual in the use of a light saber he had handled them before simply because he had them in his possession. Igniting the blade he remembered all the combat classes he had taken at the University, or perhaps attended would the better word. Ezra must have heard him coming because she pulled her hand back and took a step backwards seemingly intimidated by his charge. Zig-sagging he moved to her side swinging out to strike as he was blocked by the other blade. The man blinked he had not seen the woman even ignite her blade! Quickly going to pull back the man side stepped thinking it must have been a lucky strike before the woman counter attacked. Her swings were strong and much more powerful than he anticipated as she knocked him backwards with the first strike. Myles landed down hard on the floor with the saber in hand and luckily he hadn’t manager to cut off any of his own parts.

Ezra quickly moved towards him bringing her blade down as he was barely able to block the attack. The woman grinned as she could feel his arm quiver as she pushed down against his blade. Sparks, and hissing came from the weapons as she pushed harder against him before removing a single hand from the hilt of the blade and reaching out with the Force. Myles would try to use the opportunity to push back harder against her as now she only had a single hand on her weapon. In face the woman was letting her own blade slide dangerously close to the end of his, but this was not a carless afterthought. Dark Force energy poured out from within her as she not only held his weapon in place but used the force to send a steady push towards the hand gripping the blade. And although the man resisted Ezra was forcing his own weapon to come dangerously close to his own neck. More sparks flew off the blades as the man’s own blade was now being forced under chin. With one swift movement the Sith Mistress could force the man to decapitate himself with his own blade. And with that fact in mind the woman smiled at him speaking softly, “You see how close your own death is? Your world, and your pampered life has made you weak…as weak as the rest of the fools in your pitiful little universe.  You sought me out because you long for something more…some more than those foolish wretches can give you, but you have no teacher.  Your ignorance is your death sentence. So that is where I offer you a choice.” The woman paused letting her voice become smooth like silk and giving him a chance to weigh his options. “I can sense the Force within you…and though you are weak, I can make you strong…Powerful.  Or, if you wish it I can make you die like the coward you are now.” Ezra smirked pressing the blade closer to his neck, “Now that I’ve won you. Will you submit or will I need to find someone more adept?”

During her entire little speech the man struggled to press up against her blade trying to find some weakness or give, but the more he struggled the more opportunity it gave the woman standing over him to bring the weapon closer to his neck. So he had ceased his movements. His eyes met her own blue that though they were hazed from the cold they seemed to swirl in blue color. She could easily kill him, but this angel of death was offering him a choice. The opportunity to have the power of the Sith, something he had desired since he was a young boy yet had only dreamt of realizing. It was his dark fantasy coming to life and perhaps it was his actual destiny. But using the word submit was something he was not pleased with. Sighing deeply he looked up at her, “Are you asking me if I will be your apprentice?”

Ezra smirked, “Asking? No. I’m opening the doors to your destiny you just need to pick which one you are walking through.” She would not use the word ‘apprentice’ with him just yet. No need to get his hopes up that high, nor let him think he had the chance of taking her down.

“I would be honored to be under your-…” He paused disengaging the blade of his weapon so that now the only blade that was to his throat was Ezra’s.  “Tutelage…Mistress.”

The woman did not move her weapons just yet as she searched him to see if the man was after all telling the truth. Reading him easily Ezra knew he wanted to learn her power, but she also knew that he did not trust her yet. That would make two of them essentially after they had just met. “Good….” She stepped to the side disengaging her saber. “Now, give me that weapon before you hurt yourself, and release my brother.”

Re: Surge of Darkness

Donall first fell forward, his hands extending out to stop his body before he fell upon his face. He couldn’t tell where he was, what he was doing, or what was in front of him, only the utter nothingness that came with blindness. He could feel…cold as he pushed himself up, allowing his ears a chance to pick up on the errant noises around him. He was almost naked, save for a simple device around his waist that hid his manhood from whatever could see him. He…felt the man first, the presence unknown to him, and for now that was all he felt as he steadied himself, pushing himself off of the floor, a hungry in his soul for something to strike at. Almost a few moments after leaving hibernation, with the pain stinging in his eyes and his inability to properly breathe, and he already wanted to let loose the howling monster inside of his body.

He heard words, but they did not form much in his head, not at first. All he heard was the incoherent babble of noise deep in his ears as he tried again to open his eyes, but they did not cooperate, nor did his ears open up to him. He waited, just waiting for the man to make his move and attempt to kill Donall so he could rip his eyes out with his own hands. To tear him asunder. But he stopped himself, another presence in the room growing to him.

His memory flooded in a moment after…Donall. Then his race. His childhood. The face of his mother and father smiling. The face of his mother and father dead against the ground. He let his rage pool, collecting his primary source of power, as he let one of the last memories flutter to his senses.

The first memory to arrive in his head was a simple one, the one of him screaming at the top of his lungs at the Council…Council…The beads of memory formed quickly as he growled, the energy in him pooling up for a vicious strike at whatever was next to him, an unknown enemy who he had to defeat, to murder and kill. “Stun him!” was the last words he had heard, and the feeling of electricity and drugs into his system killed his senses…and he thought no more.

They did this to me, he thought as he tilted his head up at the man, his teeth slowly baring. The need for death was growing, his rage almost ready to eclipse his senses completely and utterly until his foe was destroyed, simple and done. He shot himself up, but a hand stopped him.

Palm. Nails that were fairly long and dug slightly into a point at the median of the length of the nail. The easy way her words now pierced not his ears, but his mind completely.

We are safe, brother. Hold your rage for now. The female’s voice entered his head.

“Sis…ter.” He said out loud, the rage inside of him dissipating like a drop of water against a stone, the explosion quick but the aftermath even more so, his breathing now coming to him as he let one long breathe of air into him. It was wonderful, like a drug he had never taken before. The knowledge that she was alive tempered everything in him, that she could start anew and he could be the tip of her spear once more.

To fight her battles. To help her win.

He is a tool. We will use him for the time being. Do not kill him.

I understand. I require space to meditate, to pool my rage.

The answer he received was not immediate, but he heard them speak again, standing tall in his position, his hands still ready to strike, but his face and head focused in the far distance of wherever he was looking, still not aware of the surroundings he was within. Not yet, but still not now.

You will have your space.

He felt, not heard, their footsteps grow farther and farther away from him. Gently, using his hands, he sat down upon his backside, the cold plate not stopping him as he breathed in a deep breath of air once more. His feet came inwards, resting under the strength of his kneecap, while his hands came together in front of his chest.

Open palm crushed by a closed fist. Jedi bent by the fist of the Sith. Light penetrated by the dark. However allegorical and metaphorical it could be, Donall knew it was not important in the sense of why he did it, but rather if it worked. Meditating on his anger, on the reasons why he was angry, only focused it to a point where he could use it like a weapon.

One of the many lessons Donall tore from the first Lord Furoran, when he killed his very soul with his own rage.

His rage enveloped him in a cloud of haze, something only he could perceive, and soon he entered into a trance…


Some people say focusing your body for meditation was a powerful calming tool, where you could eliminate the problems in your soul just by focusing on peace. But others, like Donall could attest if he so desired, it was like he was stuffed into a nightmare for the entirety, time and reality warping into one, huge focus of hatred. The first long moments, all he did was think of his mother. And once he began to dream about his mother, he was locked in a trance that only he could manipulate.

The locks of two-toned black and blonde hair were a sight for sore eyes, and he tried to approach her on the family property. The grey sky warped constantly, but he didn’t mind; it was a part of his reality now. Did it matter?  

The sky wasn’t important. Only his mother, who taught the boy everything he needed to know how to fight.

“Dance!” She said, turning around, a bright smile on her face as she brought her wooden staff to bear. It was the command she used on him when he was younger, to train him and teach him the basic elements of the first Form. Where he learned how to use his double lightsaber.

Where he learned his whole life.

But soon, it changed, like his rage forced it too. She disappeared after a few long moments, replaced by a horror he dreamed about. It sought him again, trying to take back what was rightfully his, but Donall denied him at every opportunity. The grey sky melted into a canopy of purple, black, rainbows and utter blackness; some colors so vivid and bright that they illuminated the distant treeline as if it was on fire.

Beauty was not why he was here.

“Give into me! You know I am stronger! I am much more powerful than you will ever be!”

“And watch me fall into oblivion? You are a fool!” He screamed to the algamated horror of rotting flesh and horrible orifices that stood in front of him, his lightsaber in the ready stance as he took in a breathe of air. The creature of flesh before him wore several different faces of sewn-on flesh, its eyes glowing with a corpse-y green that reeked of putrid and rotting flesh.

His master, the one he was given to with his sister after the death of their parents, forced him to fight this creature in his nightmares every night. Every time he meditates on his old master, this creature comes back into focus, a nightmare that would refuse to die. It would always refuse until, after a long battle, Donall stood over its bloated form, his lightsaber cutting wildly into its dead and rotting form.

“Give in.”

“Not before I kill you!” He screamed, throwing the dream aside and shoving his lightsaber into apparent blackness, only for a shriek to leave before the sound of a thud collapsing into his ear. Donall’s trance was going black as he saw the body of his former master, a look of shock across his face before Donall howled, a cry of rage so loud it eclipsed the rush of the imploding world…


The man opened his eyes, and he could see, finally. The errant gusts of wind from a crack in the wall leapt into his ear as he breathed again. He could see, and he could hear, and most importantly, his rage was  focused and ready to strike. He was tempted to allow himself to partake in the Force completely, to shoot his presence up into the power of the Force like a beacon…but he resisted that urge.

That would come later, he promised himself, as he breathed in one more time and thought of his sister, a single phrase sent to her through the power of their Force Bond.

I am ready, dear sister.

He was ready to take on the galaxy. To destroy his enemies and his foes completely.

To bring her vision to victory.

Re: Surge of Darkness

Myles had been quietly watching the man and the woman. He wasn’t sure if it was smart of him to let them gain their powers. But even in their handicapped state, weakened by the blindness and disorientation of the hibernation sickness, they would be strong enough to kick his ass. So Myles didn’t dare to interrupt them. At the same time he was cursing his own weakness in the Force. He needed to learn fast or he would end as a simple servant to them. And that wasn’t what he had planned.

Being passive wouldn’t help him, so Myles decided it would be about time to be in charge. At least to pretend that he was. Smoothing his hair and dusting off his 200-credits-shirt, he rose from his observing seat on one of the crates after the Sith had finished the meditation.

“Well, I don’t have the reputation of being a terrible host,” Myles addressed them, showing a smile, some others had called charming before. “So it’s time to introduce myself. I’m Myles Asher. Welcome to Coruscant.”

The male Sith was looking around as his eyesight had returned now. “So you are living in a museum?” The man started to walk along the shelves, testing the lightsabers in his hand, choosing one that felt right. Myles didn’t like it at all that the Sith was arming himself. Especially because the weapons were Myles’ property. “I would prefer if you take your hands off my sabers. Some are even older than you are. And have been even more expensive.” His voice was calm, but there was a not well-hidden anger in it. Myles didn’t know where that came from. It could be hazardous to speak with his <i>guests</i> like this, but he couldn’t control his infuriation.

The Sith stared at him for a second. Then as he saw that Myles’ look didn’t give in, he laughed humorless. “He is amusing, Sister. We should keep him as a jester.” The woman eyed Myles, a smirk playing on her lips as she sensed that Myles’ rage started to simmer.

“I am sure, that he can be useful for a different kind of tasks, Brother.” Her voice drew Myles’ attention to her as she gathered information from his mind. “And to answer your question: He doesn’t live in a museum, but in a very luxurious place. And he will be a good host indeed. What about adequate rooms and clothes for us?”

Myles thought for a second that he didn’t mind seeing her in the wrappings, she was wearing right now. Almost immediately he felt his throat going tight, as she choked him slightly. A warning that she knew what he was thinking. His voice sounded husky as he answered. “Rooms and clothes, of course. I’ll arrange that.”

***

His servants never asked question, when he ordered something, so they were quiet too as they prepared the suites for his guests, while his butler took care that there was an acceptable collection of clothes.

Myles, dressed now in a more formal suit, waited for the Sith on the balcony of his dining room. He sipped from the Whyren’s Reserve in his glass as he watched at the former Imperial Palace that was in the center of the panorama. It was almost blasphemy that the New Republic used it as capitol. But maybe not for very much longer anymore. A dark smile appeared on Myles’s face. Then he turned around as he more felt the presence of his guests than hearing them enter the room behind him.

The legend, which had made him find their carbonite sarcophagi, said that they were siblings. They had addressed each other as brother and sister before, but Myles wasn’t sure if it was meant because of an actual biological bond or of being part of the same order. As much as he knew they shared the last name. Turning around Myles’ smile switched to the charming one again. Especially as he looked at Ezra, who looked dressed as stunning as being barely covered.

“My Lady, my Lord, I hope all the settings are to your likings.” Myles made a gesture towards the bar. “Would you like some refreshment before dinner? Whiskey, Wine…?”

Donall ignored his question as he stepped out on the balcony, watching the surrounding buildings as if to check what had changed while they had been gone. Ezra looked at Myles’s glass, then at his face. “I prefer Alderaanian wine.”

Myles held her glare. “That could be difficult.” Ezra’s replied almost teasingly. “It is difficult for a man of your wealth to import some wine from another planet?” Myles wasn’t sure if it was her attempt to flirt with him or if it was a hidden insult. He kept his smile. “Alderaan is an asteroid field now. It was destroyed by the Empire seventeen years ago.”

“Destroyed?” He had Donall’s attention now too. “How is that possible?” Myles shrugged. “I don’t know much about the technology they used. But the Emperor and his apprentice had this gigantic battle station.” The Sith siblings changed a look. “We need to get it into our hands.” Ezra said it as simple as another woman would ask for a speeder or some jewelry.

“That will be even more difficult than finding a bottle of Alderaanian wine.” Myles pointed to some chairs. “Please take a seat. I see that I have to fill you in with all the history you missed while being… asleep.”

Re: Surge of Darkness

Myles almost dozed off, while his guests browsed through his library.

His oral résumé of the last millennium hadn’t been too extensive for the Sith siblings. Especially Ezra seemed disappointed that he couldn’t answer each of her questions. So he had led them into this library. It was a huge, impressive room with hundreds of different old-fashioned books as well as datafiles. The collection made Myles look like an intellectual, but the most of it he hadn’t read at all. It was all just part of his masquerade to appear sophisticated. A status symbol for a man who had more than enough credits for his own goods.

Myles rubbed his face tiredly. His patience was running out, but he knew he had to control his temper. After all he wanted that the Sith to teach him. To upset them would be unwise. He knew very well about the consequences if he would.

As his butler entered the library, his steps absorbed by the soft carpet, Myles sat up straight. He was glad about the interruption. The silence had been uncomfortable.

“What is it, Benton?” Myles stretched as the older man stopped in front of him. Benton bowed his head. “A holocall, Sir. I took the liberty of transfer it to your office.”

Myles didn’t miss the subtle hint in the other man’s look. So it was better to answer the call not in the presence of his guests. He arose from his seat. “If you may excuse me…”

The Sith didn’t even took notice of him.

Angrily Myles stomped to the neighbouring room. He wasn’t used to be treated like a lackey. By nobody. He swore to himself that they would pay for that. As soon as he had what he wanted from them.

Taking a deep breath Myles calmed himself before pressing the button that accepted the call. The bluish figure that appeared on the desk was familiar.

“Varian Nooram, it has been a while.” With a charming smile Myles greeted the Dathomirian female, who was working for him as a freelancing dealer in certain antiques. The pale white woman returned the smile. “Indeed, Myles. Quite a while.”

Myles got comfortable, relaxing in his chair. “So is this call business or…?” Their relationship had been more than occupational as they had celebrated some successful transactions in a more intimate way.

Varian chuckled, her eyes teasing him. “You know my credo: Business before pleasure. So you’ll have to be patient.” Myles pouted slightly, so she continued simply. “One of my contacts found a trace, well, maybe even more than a trace, of the Darkknellian scrolls you are looking for.”

Myles’ smile widened. “You are the best. How much?”

Varian sighed, hesitating. Myles wasn’t sure if it was a new negotiating strategy. “It’s a little difficult, Myles. We have the co-ordinates, but it’s tricky to get there at the moment.”

Myles huffed, his fingers tapping on the arm rest of his chair. “Tricky? Pay your team more to get the scrolls. You know that money is no object.”

The Dathomiri nodded. He was one of her wealthiest clients. “I know. But they can’t go on a planet with an Imperial blockade.”

Myles stared at her. “Imperial blockade? Where is the fracking Republic if you need them?” His anger was rising. He didn’t shout, but it was clear that he hardly controlled himself. “How can they blockade a whole planet?!”

There was something ice-cold yet fiery in his blue eyes, that made Varian shivers. “Sell me the coordinates.” His voice was low. “I’ll see myself how to get the scrolls.”

The business transaction was completed quickly. Varian got a fair amount of credits, while Myles got his information. No celebration would follow today.

Switching off the call, Myles fed the data into his computer. It needed just a short moment before the map of a planet appeared.

“Tatooine?” Myles frowned, wondering why the Imperial Remnant would be interested in that place. If they would be that desperate to go for an Outer Rim planet, they wouldn’t mind some financial support for sure.

Myles reached out to the comlink, calling another contact.