Private Biting the Hand that Feeds

[Darth Vodrux]

The corridor gleamed with the dull, steady haze of electric lamps as they cast their baleful glow upon the durasteel walls. A sickly shade of yellowish-white meshed with the gritty surface of the metal to give the environs an even drearier feel than what one would expect from a Sith fortress. Indeed, the stronghold was as spartan as could be, bereft of all that did not serve a specific utility. The people dwelling here knew no art, song or dance. They shared no stories and made no small-talk, save for within their tight-knight familial units, rigidly separated from one another by the unrelenting stratification of Sith society. Indeed, one would be quite foolish to speak to anyone in confidence beyond one's own kin, and often even kin were suspect. Everybody informed on everybody else. Superiors conducted machinations against one another using their subordinates, and the subordinates in turn conducted their own, petty intrigues in a ceaseless attempt to usurp their betters. This continued on at every step of the social hierarchy, save for at the very bottom. The slaves rarely turned on one another for they had nobody to be drawn to in the first place. Each one was more than happy to cut the throat of another peer for an extra ration pack, and those wretched creatures knew no love, nor camaraderie.

It was this final group that dwelt upon Lord Vodrux's mind, as he strode through the corridors towards the Inner Sanctum, pointedly disregarding the respectful gestures and salutes of all those who greeted him along the way. He had been one of them, over a decade ago. A slave child, born into servitude with little hope for the future. Had it not been for the Force, and his innate talent at surviving the cut-throat competition amongst the acolytes and prospective apprentices, he would long since have been dead from forced labour or intrigue. But survived he had, and he had outmaneuvered each and every one of his competitors, using their corpses as steps upon his ladder to the top, and now he was his master's apprentice. His enforcer. And he hated every moment of it. He was a dog, a mongrel cur. A hound, to be kept chained in the kennel with a few creature comforts tossed his way, as a man would toss scraps from his plate to his mutt. Ever beholden to his Master's word, he had been dragged by leash and collar, forced to do his Master's dirty work so that he could advance his standing within the Sith Empire. He had risen to be the second man within his Master's powerbase, and he had long since resented it. He entered an elevator and pushed a button he had pushed a thousand times before, glancing around his surroundings as he rose up from the ground, to the upper echelons of the fortress. He had been summoned by the Old Lord, whose name he had refused to utter a long time ago, save under inescapable circumstances. No doubt, there was work to be done and he would be the one to do it.

He watched the receding, blurred pinpoints of light as the elevator's carriage hurtled upwards along the rails, until at long last it came to a halt and the door slid open. The Sith Lord stepped out into a long corridor, lined at equidistance with plastoid-clad guardsmen bearing electrostaves. Six of them in total. His Master's Elite guards. They did not have the Force, but they had been trained rigorously in a number of combat styles that were meant to counter a Force-User. Against truly powerful and determined enemies, perhaps they would fail, but they will serve their purpose by either injuring the foe mortally or buying sufficient time for his Master to organize an appropriate response to neutralize the threat with. He ignored the guardsmen, and they ignored him, remaining as still as statues in their posts. Vodrux walked the final few steps towards the set of doors that led into his Master's chambers, and he pushed upon the solitary button outside that indicated to its occupant that there was a visitor. As he did so, he drew in a deep breath. His Master had a habit of assailing his mind with the Force as soon as he walked in to probe him for seditious thoughts and to remind him of his place. It was an unbearably nasty experience, and he steeled himself in anticipation.

 

[Confederacy DM]

Vodrux would find the eyes of those guards on him even while their heads did not move. Watched like a hawk but at the same time they almost seemed uninterested in the man. Either way they were there as a reminder to not overstep his place, letting him continue to pass and letting him enter the office of his master. Within the Master was looking over the fortress from a viewport, thinking about what to do next when the door opened and his eyes would turn towards the side. He did not look over his shoulder, instead he remained with his back to Vodrux, almost as if Vodrux was so little a threat to him that the mere idea of turning towards him was ridiculous. Still just as Vodrux expected he would find the force assailing him, searching for any hint that the man had thoughts to try something stupid. He would continue to stare, saying nothing as he watched the slaves so far below look like ants under him. He could crush out their lives with such a simple flick of his hand or a single command, that was power, having the choice over who gets to live or die.

Still... the creature behind him was something that he had to discipline from time to time for being of lesser stock. He would turn his body finally, staring at the man and walking towards a table, not a word spoken yet but Vodrux would know that he could not speak until the first word had been uttered by the Sith Lord. Doing so prior would end in nothing but the same punishment that he surely had faced so many times in the past. His eyes turning towards the table, looking over the items on it before finally speaking up to Vodrux with his words ringing clear.

"I was considering a ritual, one to deal with some problems of mine all at once." One of those problems was this student of his, something that he wanted to test just how far the man had been turned into a strong little instrument.

"You will need to deal with the preparation for this ritual. The workforce that I have settled are unnecessary for the next phase, so I expect that you will see the wisdom in gathering them to eliminate them when the time has come for my Ritual?" He would look at Vodrux again and wait for the man's words.

Darth Vodrux

 

[Darth Vodrux]

Lord Vodrux had drawn in a sharp breath as he had stepped into the room, his eyes affixed upon the back of his Master's head. He knew better than to speak before being spoken to and he simply walked forward as he had done a thousand times before. Once he was a quarter of the way inside, and with a healthy distance yet remaining between him and the one who held his leash, he knelt down upon one knee. He place one hand atop his unbent knee while his free hand hovered inches above the hilt of his lightsaber at his belt. An old habit, but one he knew would not come of use should the older man wish to kill him. Even if he were somehow able to match his through sheer force of will alone, the six guards just outside the room would be more than enough to tilt the balance in his Master's favour. There he remained, kneeling quite uncomfortably, and although the scene would have seemed quite calm, if tensed to an onlooker, a battle nevertheless raged within the room.

No sooner had he finished kneeling, that Vodrux felt the immediate and unrelenting onslaught upon his mind. His Master dashed himself against his defenses, the call undeniable and the pressure unyielding. This little exercise alone had broken him in body and mind countless times in the past, with his Master punishing him for his weakness with a taste of Sith Lightning or Force Telekinesis. Over and over and over again, the assault came as the Old Sith attempted to probe his thoughts, his feelings, his memory, the very essence of his being. Over and over and over again, Lord Vodrux denied him. It took him all the strength and hatred he could muster, but he stood his ground indomitable, refusing to accept the relief of surrender by permitting him entry. His head began to throb like a drum being struck repeatedly, and he could feel a ringing in his ears. He closed his eyes as his breathing became laboured, and his temples felt as though someone had driven a nail through each of them before splitting his skull in half with a Sith blade. The horrific agony stretched out of the room and into the starry skies above the world, unravelling out to eternity and beyond. Vodrux began to feel his knees beginning to give way. He was about to stretch out his hands to break his anticipated fall onto all fours, when the assault stopped as suddenly as it had started.

The incursive tendrils of thought-blades receded from his mind and he could breathe once more. Although his head still throbbed dully, the dizzying, sickening pain receded and he opened his eyes with sweat upon his brow. He felt something wet trickling down his upper lip, and he reached up to wipe the moisture away, only to find that it was a single tear of blood that had crept down his nostril. He had not broken however. He had no broken for years now, and today was no exception. The old man would have been met with a wall of nothingness, an utterly empty headspace devoid of detail, as reward for his efforts. He knew that this infuriated him and that he turned up the intensity of the invasion with each successive time that he successfully resisted, but failure too would carry its own set of consequences. For one, he had fantasized about killing him on too many occasions to count, and he knew that his Master would take such thoughts far more seriously now, than he would have ten years ago. For another, he had been clandestinely subverting his Master's organization for some time now, forming a loyal faction supporting him within the existing apparatus of the power-base. Should his Master find out about it, he would have all of those people executed. Vodrux did not particularly care whether any of them lived or died, but he had need of them, and their deaths would be a blow to his plans. Besides, the old man would also tighten the noose alongside the purge, and he had no intentions of letting that come to pass.

His Master finally spoke, and the apprentice perked up as he listened to a ritual being discussed. He waited till the old man had finished speaking, before replying in turn. "If it pleases you my Master, may I inquire as to the nature of this ritual and its objectives? If I have an idea of what I am to prepare for, I will be able to plant the most efficient way of getting it done. As for the workforce, do you wish for me to execute them all?"

 

[Confederacy DM]

The Sith Lord paused, studying Vodrux intently for once, his eyes peeling away at the man's every action, every twitch but at the same time he was still quite confidant that there was nothing Vodrux could do even if he wanted to. The student was a rather unambitious one he had found over the years. He would need to replace Vodrux with something more spectacular soon, and this ritual could see that goal achieved. For the time though he would turn and walk over to the table nearby to their right. He worked his hand over a few pages of a text that lay open, studying them before explaining to Vodrux what he was thinking about, the very ideas he had in his mind as to why this ritual was necessary.

"I have been pouring over old rituals that could help me to deal with my enemies, and with time being the precious resource that it is, these rituals have been pivotal in ensuring that my works are done." He would study the page before turning to Vodrux again, picking up the text and bringing it to his chest while he walked, getting closer, closer than hes likely been to Vodrux in quite some time before looking down at the man.

"As for your actions, you will be taking part in the Ritual. There is a particularly recent slave that we have received, one that I have been studying in private and one that I think will work as a perfect centerpiece for my Ritual. You will ensure her execution as well as the rest of the populace and I shall be able to use the Ritual to ensure my continued successes." He would explain further, smiling in a way that only made his grim features deepen. He would look pleased with the mere thought of the extermination all to achieve his ends before starting to walk towards the doors that led into the room. He paused only to look over his shoulder again.

"I expect you do not intend on remaining there when there is work to be done?" He would wait, the words meant as a command fro the man to get off his knee and to get moving. There was little patience in the man, especially when he had finally found a catalyst for the very ritual he had been pouring over for so long.

Darth Vodrux

 

[Darth Vodrux]

Nodding with understanding, Vodrux glanced at the page of text in his master’s hands. “I understand, Master. You wish to use the lives of the slaves as fuel, and the life of the centrepiece as a catalyst, to power the ritual and trigger it. It will allow you to amplify the effects of what you are trying to achieve and broadcast it over great distances against your foes, wherever they may be.” he said, before rising to his feet and looking up at the older man. “It shall be done. I will be your hand and execute your will.” He reached for the datapad that hung from his belt, retrieving it and scanning the pages of the ancient tome that pertained to the ritual. The details would allow him to set-up the markings and the drawings that needed to be precise and exact, before the sacrifices were slain at specific points across the entire structure. He was familiar with such Sith sorcery, having participated in and researched such topics before in his Master’s service. Taking the dismissal when it was given, he gave his Master a deep bow, before leaving the chambers and heading out. The first order of business was to see this new slave centrepiece. A meeting, that would be arranged through lesser servants of his Master, who handled such matters.

———————————

Some time later, saw Lord Vodrux moving towards the dungeons of his Master’s fortress, accompanied by two Sith Troopers. Although the slaves were usually kept in their pens elsewhere, this particular one was powerful in the Force. Very powerful. No doubt, that was why his Master had chosen her. They had restrained her in a Force-Sensitive Holding Cell, and all he knew thus far was that she was young, untrained and had killed many of the troopers who had been sent to capture her. Aside from his obligations to see to the preparation of the centrepiece, Vodrux was also intrigued. He knew that this ritual spelt nothing good for him and he knew that he had to subvert it if he was to have any hopes of surviving. He suspect that the key to said subversion lay in this elusive woman.

He arrived at the assigned holding cell and was permitted entry by the guards, who escorted him inside, where he caught sight of her. She was beautiful, of that there was no doubt. Bright-hair, a face as pale as fresh-fallen snow, and expressive eyes that held a certain contemptuous disgust as she looked at them. She would not be able to see his face yet, given the fact that his hood was raised, and he came to a stop before her. He recalled that the records held no name, and instead had an alphanumeric designation that his Master used to track his chattel. He surveyed the woman, in her worn clothes and her shapely form for a few moments, before turning towards the troopers who accompanied him. “Leave us.” he commanded them, and the senior trooper turned to him as though ready to protest. “With respect My Lord-“ The man was interrupted as the Sith Lord turned to face him, giving him a withering look as he gazed into the man’s eyes behind his helmet. “I speak with my Master’s voice and I wish to be left alone with the slave. I have work to do to see his bidding done, and I cannot do so with you incompetents interrupting. Now, LEAVE US!” He waited until the soldiers complied, at which point, he turned his attention back to the woman. He lowered his hood, revealing his face to her, and they looked upon one another for the first time, in what would soon be one of many times.

 

[Narci Kemi]

She had been here a mere few days.
Her capture had not been easy, traps had been laid and she had thwarted them, ambushes that had been turned against them with as the cave they had chased her to was brought down over their heads.
Her undoing was something more simplistic....
She had come to them.
She entered their camp as they planned for their next attack on her, and in the darkness of night she slit the throats of every guard, every slave and every man they had sent. All accept one.
The second in command.
She smiled at him and extended her wrists out willingly for the cuffs. Allowing herself to be taken in with only the words.
"Now you have my attention, fucker."

She sat in the sparse prison, one chair, and a bed to the back. Blood at the entryway.
It seems she had a proclivity for taking chunks when others entered.
As 2 ears, 6 fingers and one man's arm was piled up in a corner.
Yet when the door opened this time she did not move from her seat.
She looked up at the hooded man and a devilish smirk danced across her lips, her eyes a violent blue.

"You know when a man visits a lady... he should always bring a gift." She pouted playfully.
"Don't tell me you came empty handed." Her eyes narrowed, her hands moving infront of her and resting on her thighs, her leg crossed over one knee. The cuffs she was supposed to be wearing hung broken from one wrist.
"Hmmm given you haven't swallowed your nerf herder yet... I'm assuming you're Master has told you what he wants to use me for... " the room around them groaned, as her use of the force was suppressed, pushed down, choked.... still, even with all that he'd feel the tendrils of her mind reaching out to him. Inelegant, unrefined, untrained, raw violent talent.
Strength it seemed, this woman had in abundance.
"Well... I suppose your face is a gift considering the unwashed filth you've let touch my food..... handsome.... almost." She chuckled licking over her teeth playfully, the only sign of injury on her was a slight cut to her bottom lip.
Another cock of her head to one side as she looked up at him, arrogantly awaiting his next words.

 

[Darth Vodrux]

Lord Vodrux surveyed the woman silently, as she spoke. The deputy commandant of the commandos his Master had dispatched, had provided him with a detailed after-action report on the events that had transpired during the capture of this mission. In his infinite wisdom, it seemed his Master had seen fit to send the Forceless to try and subdue her, instead of sending him. The fact that she was here at all, was due to the woman turning herself in, a fact he had had to extract from the deputy commandant through liberal applications of Force Lightning. He supposed this went back to his Master's distrust of him at the root. The old man was prepared to spend blood needlessly when there existed more efficient means of achieving his goals. The self-destructive nature of the Sith, once more laid bare. He spared a moment to amuse himself with this fact, before turning his attention back to the prisoner. The fact that she had turned herself in could be due to two reasons. Firstly, she had some greater stratagem in mind, or was a pawn in a greater stratagem. Secondly, she simply wanted to let them know that they could only get her because she allowed it. The first option was unlikely, given the raw, disorganized and undisciplined manner of the way in which she wielded the Force. He could already sense the tendrils of her Force Sensitivity. She had some inkling of her power, but she used it like a cudgel in a blunt manner. There was no sign of technique or training involved in the process whatsoever. The second reason behind her turning herself in seemed to be the more likely possibility, and while it had enabled her to prove her point, it had also been an incredibly naïve thing to do. After all, the only thing that mattered was victory, and she had abandoned her advantage in return for a cheap opportunity to taunt and gloat while giving her enemy the advantage. Regardless, he needed to know for certain what this woman was made of and if she held any further use outside of being a ritual sacrifice.

Remaining silent as she spoke, he locked eyes with her as soon as she had finished uttering the last words of her sentence before he began the assault upon her mind. His technique and training, cultivated over the past decade worked around her brute-force response, using her own strength against her to breach her mental defenses. And once she was laid bare, he delved inside, probing every nook and cranny of her skull while he projected his voice within her head using the Force. "You are a petulant child. Naïve, undisciplined, lacking all control." he said, rebuking her as he dredged through her mind, raking up memory after memory as he dissected her identity to find out who she was and whether she had any hidden agenda. "You wield your power like a mongrel beast, thrashing and lashing out with its inherent strength, but bereft of all higher function required to wield it well. It is pathetic." He could see a stream of it now. A sequentially flowing set of images, sights, sounds and emotions from her past. Images of a young woman, similar in appearance to the woman before him manifested in the Sith Lord's mind, before being eradicated by a wave of fresh knowledge. "In your arrogance, you have sealed your own fate. And now, I wonder whether you are worth my time. After all, I only need your blood, and your sanity is something I can sacrifice for making you compliant." He had learned nearly all that he needed to know now, and all that remained was to see how well this woman held up under pressure, and whether she could be of use to him in subverting his Master. "Kneel." he broadcasted into her mind firmly. "You will do as I command, or I will shatter your mind and leave you an empty husk. KNEEL."

 

[Narci Kemi]

She winced as she felt the undeniable invasion into her mind. Her talent was no match to his years of skill.
Her teeth gritted and her body turned ridged, as his mind sifted through hers.
get out! her mind screamed at him. Memories colliding with him.
The Feeling of unbearable loneliness curling around his reach. Her memories where a map of her isolation, the earliest of abandonment. Over and over again. The ones she learned to love leaving her again and again. Till that abandonment became herself isolation. Her refusal to become close, her heart turning cold and calculating, memories revealing she turned into the knife in others back. Yet there seemed to be still an incling of loyalty, unyielding for the right reasons... something earned.
A time stream of her life, from an abandoned child living on the streets, learning to steal, to lie, to manipulate, to falling in and out of gangs where she learned to fight, to kill to track... and yet she kept surviving betrayal. Taking her revenge and moving on.
The ache of betray lessing over the years, festering in cold and silent rage. The further back in her mind the harder it became to look, like she herself had shut it down out of mind. Forgotten and lost. Memories becoming hazy with missing faces. People she refused to remember.
Then all at once he's feel a block. One last stand defence.
Memories trapped behind a vault that it didn't even seem she could open it.

She lifted her head and looked at him in the eye. Blood running from her nose yet a smile still on her face.
ah ah... I don't go in there her mind spoke out to him.
She spat at the floor licking over her teeth.
you aren't very good at introductions.. she told him a giggling in her mind, her mind seeing the way his reached out, understanding in her observation.
She May not possess his strength yet nor skill but learning she could, once again reaching out with her mind to his, mimicking the way he had hers.

She couldn't break his defence of course she couldn't without years of training... but there were atheist cracks.... a glimmer of understanding...

"Ooohhh.." She mused still calm and playful regardless of her situation. He'd seen her mind, saw that this wasnt a facade, she liked this, it gave her purpose, it gave her life. Fear and pressure was like a pleasure point to her, taking her to a tranquility.... "you must want him dead....... it seems we have something in common..... " She smiled at him looking up with those lightening blue eyes. she did not kneel.
"We could. I could help you... you could be free... no more collar for you, and maybe even your own apprentice if you don't try to stab me in the back... you think I came here without a plan... this will be the last time you underestimate me, I can promise you that." She chuckled and flicked her hair back over her shoulder, wiping the blood with her wrist.
"He clearly needs me for something.... why not he and I trade places and you use him instead... you get the power, I get to live... win win don't you think? I'll owe you my life, and I'll swear it to your service."

 

[Darth Vodrux]

As he considered Narci’s words, Lord Vodrux had a choice to make. The woman, while raw, was not a complete fool. She seemed to be self-aware enough to recognize that even her tremendous power would fail before a trained user of the Dark Side, and she had allowed herself to be captured specifically so that weakness of hers could be addressed through training. And he saw no guile in her mind behind her offer. But there was the matter of that locked space within her head, behind which there was something tucked away from the light of day. Everyone had that space. His Master had violated his to probe his deepest and darkest secrets numerous times and any orthodox Sith would have encouraged him to do the same in turn. But then, he thought back to the weaknesses of the Sith Order itself. For all of its self-appreciative propaganda of strength and freedom, Sith governance was incredibly unstable simply because each and every rung of the social ladder was rife with mutual hate and contest. It was a zero sum game where the victors gained everything and the losers were left with nothing and so, collaboration was impossible between the Sith over the long term. Even the One Sith had failed in this regard, having been destroyed from within by Darth Bane, and Darth Sidious had only managed to destroy the Jedi through a complete adherence to the rule of two, which had also resulted in his own eventual destruction. If he breached those barriers now, and he knew he could if he put his mind to it, he would become a part of the same cycle, hating and being hated by this woman should he take her on until one day she finally surpassed him and killed him, thereby renewing the self-destructive cycle. The Jedi, for all their weaknesses, had emerged triumphant numerous times not because of their own strength, but because of Sith infighting. And so, he made his choice.

Narci would feel the pressure dissipate from her mind, and only the voice remained as it spoke to her. “They cannot hear us, but they can see us. My Master will review this recording, and he will attempt to decipher what we exchange through our mannerisms and facial expressions. If he suspects anything, he will torture you for information because he will not get past my mental defenses. You need to kneel, and look at me with hate and pain in your eyes. And, you need to listen closely because we are both in grave danger.”

He would wait for her to do as he had directed, before resuming speaking. “You are to be the centerpiece of a Sith Ritual. Your blood and the blood of thousands of more slaves will fuel it, and My Master will channel it to slay his enemies in one fell swoop. The ritual will weaken me and when it is done, he will kill me as well, in favour of a new apprentice. If we are to survive, we must subvert his ritual in a manner that is not evident to him, and we must use it against him and those loyal to him. When it is done, I have no intentions of staying behind and claiming his place as is tradition, because I believe the Sith Order is fundamentally flawed and doomed in the long term. You are free to join me in my exodus, with the knowledge that we will be labeled rogues and hunted by the servants of the Sith Empire for the rest of our lives. Do you accept?”

 

[Narci Kemi]

Feeling the full fleeting relief from her mind she gasped and panted softly, like weight had been shifted from her. As her head turned upwards her eyes were burning with hate, tears from her eyes and blood from her nose.
She spat again at the floor before she moved to her knees. That hatred was not fake, but it was not for him. That he alone would feel from her. Whatever this woman was hiding from him, she had known true hatred, and she would wear it like a mask.
Her face clenched and her eyes closed and pained screams ripped from her like her Organs were being pulled.

"I accept... Master." Her mind spoke calmly to his, even while her body clenched and crumbled below him on the floor before his feet, soon panting again like the pain was coming in waves.
"Tell me what I must do, and it will be done." She feigned weakness, slowly and tenderly pulling herself back to her knees. Her head holding low and lazily being tossed back to look at him. Her lips curved in a sneer.
Her voice now choked and rasping.
"I will fucking end you." Her threat came before she faked another bout of excruciating pain, using her own force abilities to cause her nose and ears to bleed. Blood starting to enter her mouth too.

Darth Vodrux

 

[Darth Vodrux]

Despite himself, Lord Vodrux was impressed by the display of hatred for the benefit of the cameras, from the young woman. There was hate and pain in her heart, no doubt related to whatever she kept locked inside that corner of her mind. Perhaps he would find out what it was one day, if they ever got out of this alive. Perhaps not. Either way, they had work to do, and very little time to do it in. He replied to Narci inside her mind. "I will need time to study my Master's ritual and devise a way to fatally alter it without alerting him of the alteration. In the meantime, cooperate with the guards, rest and eat and hydrate as much as you can. Regain your strength, for you will have need of it before long." He pursed his lips. "Due to the outburst, I will need to use the Force upon you, to make them think you are broken. Do not fear. It will hurt, but it will not harm you in any permanent way." Without any further ado, Vodrux raised his hand and caught Narci in a Force chokehold, lifting her off the ground as he pressed down upon her throat with the Force. He let the gagging and sputtering sounds play out across the room for a few seconds, long enough for the microphones and cameras to record what he wanted them to see, before he dropped her with a thud back down upon the ground. "You will behave queen, or there will be far more dire consequences for the likes of you." he told her aloud, spitting upon the ground as he spoke. "You are nothing special. I have broken thousands more like you before, and now I have broken you as well. Stay down, and do my Master's bidding. Consider yourself honoured, for having been chosen. Vermin like you amount to far less."

Turning away from Narci, he motioned towards the observing guards. "I am done with her for now. Resume your duties. I shall return when it is time for her to play her role in my Master's designs. Until then, she is to be left unharmed, and unspoiled, and if any of you do anything to the contrary, I promise you that your families will receive your bodies in pieces. Understood?" Without waiting for the guards to provide their response, the Sith Lord left the holding cells, making his way towards his own chambers. He needed to study the text her had scanned on the ritual, and he needed to supplement it with knowledge from his Master's archives under the guise of researching the ritual, to find a way to subvert it.

 

[Confederacy DM]

Vodrux would find little stopping him from studying the Ritual. The Master was confident that there would be nothing that Vodrux could have done to alter things if he wanted too, especially with how much he had researched it himself. That said he still would have his soldiers keeping eye over Vodrux as he was brought into the Archives. This was done with the effort to make certain his student did not get any grand ideas of betrayal by searching for other texts or holocrons in his archives that might hold some special secret that Vodrux had not been given permission to access. The two guards in question would move to stand where they could keep an eye on Vodrux, their faces covered by the same masks of the guards that normally remained by the Master, unfeeling or unmoving visages that would show little to no emotion behind them.

Within the book Vodrux would find detailed explanations for the process of the ritual, how the sacrifices must be set up and that the two pillars for the ritual must be placed. The center of the circle between the two pillars would be placed the individual being used to ensure the proper transfer of power through to the Greater Pillar. As Vodrux would read he would come to realize the two pillars were in reference to the Master and the Student, but as Vodrux continued to read he would start to realize a way in which the flow of the power could be altered. The Sigils that allowed for transfer could instead be changed to siphon, stealing from his master a measure of power if he could hide the alterations well enough.

These alterations could prove difficult as he would have to commit the markings to memory as well as where to alter them and hide those alterations. If done incorrectly, it could even cause Vodrux to be the one the power was being siphoned from instead of the Master.

All that being left up to the Sith as he was left to sit there with the text infront of him.

Darth Vodrux

 

[Darth Vodrux]

Carefully studying the text, an idea began to form in Vodrux's head as he learned about the details of the ritual. He knew his master's posted guards were observing him, and that he could not access too many additional resources without triggering their suspicions, but perhaps the key to the problem lay within the ritual itself. Sith Sorcery was a very specific field of Force Knowledge, and one who was not mindful of the details experienced disastrous results. Each and every step in any given ritual had to be followed to the exact specifications with no room for error or alteration. Blood would need to be shed in the precise places and manners that were called for, drawings had to be made in the exact proportions that were prescribed, and eldritch chants had to be enunciated in the specific intonations and pronunciations. Sith history was filled with cautionary tales of unwise and careless practitioners who had failed to heed the instructions of their betters and had wreaked havoc on themselves and their surroundings in the process. Death was a merciful outcome for a botched ritual. The more fateful cases often consisted of Force Explosions that levelled cities, the accidental draining of life through the Force on a world, and the separation of the spirit from the body into a new, eternal and perpetually tormented state of existence.

And so, the plan at hand would involve such alterations to his master's ritual that were undetectable, but had similar catastrophic outcomes for the old man. Vodrux briefly considered simply swapping the circles for the Master and the Apprentice so that the intended benefits accrued to him while the costs were borne by his master. He discarded the idea however. While such a modification would serve his purpose, the ritual would still be completed and it would lead to the deaths of all the slaves and Narci. Although he did not particularly care whether they lived or died, he had need of them alive. They were crucial for his long-term goals, and he could not afford to squander them here, even if it greatly enhanced his personal power. After all, he had no intentions of simply usurping his Master's powerbase after killing him. Instead, he began to investigate an alternative idea, that nevertheless still followed the same principles. The ritual at its very core, was a transfer of the lifeforce of three layers of victims, into a single recipient who would then be able to channel the amassed power into a single, powerful active force. The first layer would be the slaves, the second Narci and the third would be himself. The transfers would take place along the ritual's carefully constructed drawings, that required a mixture of bone dust and other esoteric ingredients to be ground into an inky paste for drawing. Using his dataslate, Vodrux began to make a makeshift version of the ritual's drawing. When he had finished, he leaned back in his seat, his eyes shining with anticipation.

Given the exact nature of Sith Sorcery, the ritual would flow exactly in the direction of the drawn markings, once it was initiated by the killing of an animal with Force Lightning at the starting point. Hence, it was crucial that the markings were drawn exactly in the order prescribed by his Master, so that the flow of energy was directed as intended. But, if he drew the markings in the reverse order, the flow of energy would be reversed. Instead of the sacrificial layers being drained to power his Master, the old man's life force would be stripped away and transferred to his intended victims, and once the markings had been drawn it would be impossible to tell in which order the patterns had been drawn in. The only challenge then, would be the act of doing so without alerting the spies who no doubt, would be posted by his Master to observe him. In this regard however, he would have one advantage. Due to the old man's paranoia, he was unlikely to entrust the details of the ritual and its preparation to anyone aside from his apprentice, whom he needed. The spies would likely be told to observe that he did a specific set of instructions, and something as banal and simple as the order in which the markings were drawn, would be unlikely to register to these untrained and uninformed observers. With the idea now fleshed out, he left the archives and made his way back to Narci's cells.

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It had been a couple of days since his last visit to Narci. He had spent much of that time in the archives, figuring out a way to sabotage the ritual. And now, as he walked back into her holding area, she would see the triumphant glimmer in his eyes, even as his face remained a carefully arranged expression of neutrality. He came to a stop before her cell, and locked eyes with her, before once more projecting his voice telepathically inside her head. "I have found a way to sabotage the ritual. In two days time, it will begin. You will be taken to the courtyard outside the fortress, and you will be bound and placed within a circle in a drawn set of patters, alongside many other slaves. A bantha will be brought to a sacrificial circle. It will be struck by Force Lightning immediately before its throat is slit, and its blood will initiate the ritual. You will do nothing till the ritual is complete, at which point my Master will be dead. Then, I will release your bindings, and we will kill his servants, free the slaves, and storm the Fortress for its resources. After that, we make our way off-world. Any questions?"