Private Dangerous Desperation [Kahlil]

[Darth Carnifex]

"We cannot die, my young apprentice. There is no longer any power in the galaxy strong enough to destroy what we have become." It was uncertain if Demiurge spoke fanatically or pragmatically, Kahlil had born witness to the power that his father commanded, seen the innumerable legions at His beck and call. The deepest secrets of his father remained shrouded in mystery, the true nature of His immortality hidden far from the wandering sight of lesser beings.

Demiurge regarded Kahlil with steely methodical eyes, "But if you are to one day make the attempt, you must possess at your side a weapon. Your old lightsaber will no longer suffice, the crystal rejects you. You must make another from scratch, infusing every component with your hate and anger. Then I will take you out into the galaxy to hunt for your crystal." A dark gleam shone in Demiurge's eyes, "But we will not go to Ilum, nor any other world where kyber crystals grow naturally. You will not be given your crystals, you will take it."

He pointed a finger at Kahlil's chest.

"You will kill a Jedi for their lightsaber crystal."

Kahlil Noble ​

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Not yet. That's what he wanted to say. It was painfully obvious on his face, too. But he bit such venomous words back. Whether Darth Carnifex was just overconfident or there was truth didn't matter. Kahlil would find the secrets. And break whatever it was that kept his fathers bound to this mortal plane. "A Solari rejects all darkness. But, broken it would be far more powerful." There it was. The thing he'd been dreading. Taking the crystal of a Jedi wasn't an issue, not for Kahlil.

It was killing one. He knew there were lines he would cross. Dark things he would do to get deeper into his father's organization. Closer to his goal. And there wasn't a line he was unwilling to cross. Or, at least, one he could imagine having to. His limits had yet to be tested. Perhaps that's what this was.

".. Allow me time to research. I'm certain I can find a way to break it."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"You will not be able to avoid it forever," replied Demiurge who then glanced at Kahlil inquisitively. He could sense the young Sith's aversion to the killing of Jedi, a weakness that would have to be excised sooner rather than later.

"Breaking a Solari crystal would be quite the feat, my young apprentice." He raised up both hands and extended five fingers on his right and two on his left, "I will allow you seven days to complete this task. Should you succeed, then you will be rewarded. Should you fail, then you will be punished." Demiurge did not elaborate on what that punishment would entail, but Kahlil's imagination would handily fill in the blanks with far more gruesome outcomes.

"But to begin your task you will require your own space to work." He beckoned for Kahlil to follow him, "Come and I will show you." Demiurge led Kahlil down another hall, passing by a series of closed doors marked by a series of Aurebesh numbers. Although the door muffled the noise behind them, heavy machinery could be heard whirring and chugging just beyond the threshold. When they arrived at their destination, they had passed some three dozen of those closed doorways.

This new one opened up at their approach, revealing a spartan chamber furnished with a single bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. An adjacent door in the room was open, leading into a similarly utilitarian refresher. The bed had already been made and a new set of clothes had been folded in a pile at its foot. The wardrobe, when opened, would reveal five identical sets of clothing the exact same as the one set out for him.

"I will allow you to acquaint yourself with your room while I fetch your crystal and your lightsaber."

Demiurge remained outside the room as Kahlil entered, the door shutting and locking behind him.

Kahlil Noble ​

 

[Kahlil Noble]

He'd avoid it as long as he could, but Kahlil knew Darth Carnifex was right. There was no avoiding it. He'd have to kill a Jedi at some point. And when he did, it would be the first of a horrible line crossed. Grant it, seven days was a lot shorter of a time frame than he'd like to try and delay that choice. Though the threat of punishment was enough to steel his nerves. It wasn't just his pain that could be used.

And given Demiurge had seen them, Valery was as much threatened as he was. Though, his own space to work? That was a surprising freedom, given how he fled the last time. As they walked his orange eyes studied the doors. A mixture of genuine curiosity and the simple mission oriented needing to know. He'd learn it all, eventually. Every secret, every mechanism and asset.

He had to, if he wanted to kill Carnifex.

The idea of freedom, though, was quickly squashed as his room was revealed. That made more sense. He wasn't just free to wander around here. With no idea on where he was and now this room that might as well be a cell, it was far more obvious that he was just a prisoner. Something to be kept, shaped, and perhaps given some freedoms as he proved himself. A dog to be trained.

The door locked. Kahlil closed his eyes for a moment. This was his cell. He'd go to get changed before just sitting on the bed. Taking the moment of quiet to truly think. This was.. No going back. No time for regret. He clenched his fists before turning his gaze towards the door. Waiting for Demiurge to return so he could get to work.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"He is consumed by his hatred of us."

"That is his purpose."

The two goliaths walked side-by-side, hands clasped in various positions as the archivists toiled around them. Hundreds of thousands of relics were stored away within the Dark Lord's vaults, all meticulously cataloged by the army of half-cybernetic curators that made the vaults their permanent abodes. Whenever an item of importance fell into the Dark Lord's clutches, it was inventoried into the massive databank and then hidden away within the labyrinthine vaults.

"Hatred is the gate, anger is the key, and fear is the guardian of the gate. Beyond the gate lies power." Long had the Dark Lord committed that litany to memory, imparted upon Him decades ago by His first master Daxton Bane. Even now, He could conjure up His earliest days of training, learning the ways of the Sith under His master's watchful gaze. Many times had He stumbled on that path, and He was punished severely each time, but He had always risen back up.

"To become a Vessel, his hatred must be total." Demiurge nodded thoughtfully, his own mind recalling all that he had learned in the care of the Sepulchral. Thousands of years of ancient Sith knowledge, safely committed to memory. "It will in time, he has committed to this fool's errand of vengeance." The Dark Lord did not laugh, but there was amusement in His eyes as He looked to Demiurge. "The other has begun his tutelage as well, we shall see which one arises."

Any further discussion came to an end as one of the archivists approached the pair, reaching out with both hands to deliver the item they had requested. Kahlil's lightsaber, inert and useless, sprung into Demiurge's awaiting hand.

"Indeed, we shall see."

Demiurge departed the Dark Lord, moving in silence to return to his awaiting pupil.

When the door opened, Demiurge entered and held out the lightsaber to Kahlil. At his back were several servants hauling in crates of equipment and scraps, placing them near the desk before scuttling back out into the hall. "I have requisitioned the necessary tools for you. I will return within a week to see what you have produced." He then departed without another word, the door again locking behind him and leaving Kahlil in silence and isolation.

Kahlil Noble ​

 

[Kahlil Noble]

The door opened. And shortly after closed.

Kahlil said nothing as Demiurge brought in the equipment and items he would need for the task he'd set himself. Breaking a Solari crystal. Part of him regretted suggesting it in the first place, now that he realized he'd be locked within this room. The items given would help, sure, but what he needed.. No, this would have to do. His memory of his childhood wasn't gone, after all.

And old habits weren't so easily forgotten.

The first step was a basin. All alchemy needed a foundation. With nothing else to do for the next week otherwise he set to work. Focused on it. Dove back into the darkness he'd left behind. Just hate alone wasn't going to do what was needed. Study. Knowledge. Old tomes were scattered through the room for ease of reference. Blood was spilt, his own, though he knew he'd need more to complete the basin. Enough to get it started.

By the end of the second day he'd have the basin ready for the first drop. A simple knife carved open his palm as he let his blood fill the runic carved bowl. He didn't even flinch as his skin was split. Time wasn't a luxury. He barely had enough time to test his theory, let alone rethink it if things went poorly. He clenched his fist once enough had dripped in, stopping the blood flow. Then, lightning. The purest manifestation outside Sorcery of the Dark Side was unleashed onto his blood. It bubbled and gurgled as the runes flashed and brightened.

First step complete. Onto the next.

By the end of the week the room he was trapped in was.. Ruined. Scorch marks of lightning signified his moments of raw anger. Hastily drawn runes and mathematical equations sprawled out underneath or over the blackened steel. Papers were scattered. The basin in the center glowed an unnatural red from the energy he'd poured into it. Bandages covered his arms, fingers, from where lightning had burned flesh and blade cut skin. He let himself focus on only the breaking of the crystal.

And he succeeded. And failed.

The still blue crystal lingered in his grasp as he stared up at it. Adorning it's vibrant color, though, was the success. Red runes inscribed all along it's surface, permanently carved into it's surface laid the groundwork. There was no bleeding the crystal. That's what he learned early on. In his other hand the knife he'd taken originally. Now alchemized and seething with the Dark.

He finished etching the last rune with the tip of the knife. And waited. To complete it, he'd have to set out and do what Darth Carnifex had demanded of him in the first place. Kill a Jedi, or anyone of the light truly, and empower the runes with their suffering. A failure, and a success.