For A Book

[Shade of Decay]

It had been some time since Tsisaar had last been on Kruskan.

The Sith pulled out his lightsaber, turning it about in his hands. After all the insanity of Coruscant, he was almost surprised that the piece of technology had survived; more importantly was what was within it. When last he had been on Kruskan, the lightsaber had possessed but two crystals. Now, it possessed a third, the enchanted shard of a holocron that had been found within the ruins he'd helped explore.

Much like the Dark Side itself, it had proven to be an effective weapon against his enemies, and a source of discomfort to himself. All power has a price, he silently mused, before setting the hilt back within his robes.

The same ruins he had been investigating the last time he was on the planet now lay behind him. While they had been mostly explored, there were still some areas which had yet to be subjected to modern eyes. Owing to his new position as both a full Sith and an inquisitor of the Saaraishash, Tsisaar had elected to come help finish the exploration. Given the lack of other Sith who were involved, with most of the workers being non-sensitive, it was far more relaxing than working on Korriban or Bastion, and it came with far less competition for any artifacts or knowledge that could be found.

He sat cross-legged on a broken stone outside the ruins, likely the remains of some sort of tower or other similar object. While his excavations had been going well, he'd recently received a message from another within the Sith. Now that he was no longer an Acolyte, unlike when he was last on Kruskan, he had other duties to attend to. One of those duties was the training—or, at least, aiding in the training—of the next generation of Sith. There was a somewhat new apprentice that he was to meet with and offer some sort of instruction to.

So, finding out that the student's name was [member="Thesh"], he simply sent the directions to the excavation site and a command to meet him there. So, while he waited for the apprentice to arrive, he would meditate...and should the student arrive before Tsisaar had finished with his meditation, that would just be too bad.

 

[Lief]

Structures jutted from the earth like broken teeth, towering overhead in all their ruined glory.

Thesh had never felt so small. This was his first venture away from Bastion since arriving at the home of [member="Darth Maliphant"] and already he felt completely and utterly out of his element. That wasn't exactly a difficult feat, of course, for the boy was almost always out of his element in some regard, the difference here was that all that lay around him was wild, reclaimed by nature. Nobody was watching him, the dropship which brought him here already dispersed back to the stars, there were no guards, or fences, or attack hounds.

If he had wanted to, the boy could very easily have disappeared into the vegetation. He'd have taken his chances with the predators of these lands, once upon a time, if it meant regaining his freedom. But now?

Now things were complicated.

With a soft sigh he pressed on, up a series of steps that had become so overgrown they were indistinguishable from the hillside they had been carved into. Onward and onward, robes brushing against the ground with a soft swish, and electroblade whacking against his back with each step. While it wasn't necessarily hot out, the humidity in the area made it difficult for him to breathe after just half a mile of walking, and though the boy was indeed frail and meager to look upon he had been built for endurance ever since leaving Ession.

For what use was a slave that could not perform?

At some point throughout his ascension the boy slipped off his robes, revealing training garments underneath. Surprisingly enough the shirt was white, the trousers a rather muddied grey, a contrast to the black outer robes he had been gifted by his Master.

Around his neck the identification tag began to feel a little weighted. He rubbed at his collarbone, which the pendant was presently jumping back and forth against, before wiping his brow. The robe - now draped over one arm - already felt uncomfortably warm against his skin, and made him want to scratch his suddenly itchy arm.

He did not like it here, even with all the wonders to look upon, all the greenery and life, the air felt like soup to breathe in.

Respite came in the form of a shaded area, at the eventual plateau he'd climbed up to. All around the earth had been carefully torn up to expose more of the ruins, cordoned off squares had work gear within, and just beyond his immediate location he could sense further lifeforms than the one which emanated rather brightly in his toxicity right there in the middle. Meditating, or so it seemed.

Rather than interrupt the Sith he had come here to learn from, the boy simply knelt down and bowed his head to patiently wait. He was no fool, he knew by now that most Sith had even greater senses than the Force had provided him with, he knew that the man would arise when ready. But until then he would enjoy the shade and momentary respite.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

One eye briefly opened to glance at the young man who had made his way up to the ruins.

Tsisaar didn't acknowledge the boy yet; he watched carefully as [member="Thesh"] settled down into a kneel, head respectfully bowed, eyes averted from the man he was sent to learn from. Subservient, but not in the respectful manner of an Acolyte to their teacher; in that there would always be a hint of defiance, and strength. The Acolyte would look the Master in the eyes, not only eager to learn but demanding it. The Master would dangle small morsels of knowledge in front of the Acolyte's nose, punishing them if they became too insistent. The careful back-and-forth of learning under the Sith, prideful on both sides, and with the ever-present threat of death for either. But it would strengthen both, moulding the Acolyte, first into a weapon; ultimately, into the next generation of Sith, setting the Acolyte on their own path to mastery.

Thesh did not kneel in the manner of a learner.

He knelt in the manner of a slave.

"Apprentice," Tsisaar's voice rang out, entirely dispassionate. "You may rise."

When Thesh did so, Tsisaar's eyes would quickly examine the rest of the boy's body. The branding on his wrist was quickly noticed, as was the identification tag around his neck. Ostensibly, to identify the boy as an apprentice to a specific master. Tsisaar's huleppi twitched irritably as he noticed it; every Sith 'apprentice' he'd seen wearing such back on Bastion had been little more than a glorified slave in the first place. Often they remained such after they became full Sith.

One of Tsisaar's clawed hands stretched out, and the identification pendant snapped off from the string that held it over Thesh's neck, disappearing within Tsisaar's grasp. The piece of metal quickly disappeared within the folds of the Sith's clothing, while he calmly looked over Thesh again. "Recite the Sith Code to me, boy," he commanded. "Consider it the first of my tests for you."

 

[Lief]

Thesh did not quite know how long he had been knelt for, though he was certain it wasn't that long, before a voice broke out in those foreboding ruins. Issued a command, the boy rose as quick as he could muster without the risk of fumbling and only then did he lift his head, once he was already up from the dirt. His initial instinct was to brush off the knees of his trouser legs, though he resisted that urge and instead looked upon the Sith before him.

The boy had never seen such a being, not ever in his life, but given that he had been raised on a predominantly human world, and sent to a human Academy, and then a human compound, it wasn't as though he had seen very many aliens at all. He stared at the mess of fleshy tentacles adorning the man's chin, before hastily meeting his eyes when realizing how rude it was to stare. But curiosity remained writ across his expression, where many would show only disgust. It was no secret that many within the Empire were racial purists, after all.

All at once the man reached out with strangely clawed hands and ripped the identification tag from around his neck, pocketing it before Thesh could even make sense of what had happened. He blinked, opened his mouth to object, and then just as quickly closed it without a word. It was just an object, albeit one his Master had expressly told him to wear around Bastion.

But they were not on Bastion, and his Master had entrusted him into the care of this... Man? He sounded like a man, but honestly Thesh could not be too sure.

A new order was given, then, and the boy stared, wide-eyed, for a second. It looked as though he wasn't going to answer, or that he didn't know the answer, but after that second passed he finally stammered out a response.

"Peace is a lie," he began, and though his voice was shaky the words were spoken with a certainty, "There is only passion. Through passion I gain strength, through strength I gain power, through power I gain victory, through victory my chains are broken... The Force shall free me."

As a sudden afterthought, he tacked onto the end one swift and respectful "Sir."

Or did he refer to his superiors in the Sith as Master, too? It was all so confusing, these new rules that made up his life. The code was something he did know, however, it had been a large focal point in one of the books his Master had given him to study from, to help him adjust to reading after so long out of the educational system, and in what little free time he had he'd read it plenty. He knew it was time to move on to the next book, but there remained a few words in that one - Aspects of the Force, the Light and the Dark - that he had yet to completely comprehend.

And in Thesh's eyes, that meant he wasn't done with it.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

Thesh's staring did not go unnoticed.

Somewhat self-consciously, Tsisaar scratched at the tendril that had been disfigured by a Starweird; other than that small concession to his own cognizance of his appearance, however, he gave no reaction to Thesh's observations. Instead, he observed the boy himself, especially his reaction to the loss of his identification tag. Showing some sense, Thesh didn't object to Tsisaar's taking it, and instead started to recite the code as commanded. Good.

Tsisaar waited a moment after Thesh finished, before speaking up again. "Your memory is keen," he told the boy. "That will serve you well in time." He produced the pendant again from within his robes, looking over it. "Consider your place in the Sith to be the beginning of your breaking chains, then. If you are a Sith, you are no slave." Tsisaar's fist clenched around the tag, pointing down at the branding on Thesh's wrist. "But if you are a slave, then you are no Sith. A Sith, even an apprentice such as yourself, does not need a pendant such as this to identify themselves and who their master is. If one asks who you are, you answer; if they ask after you master, you tell them. If they cross you, if they refuse to recognize your identity, you chastise them for it." The tag was tossed back towards Thesh, landing in the dirt at his feet.

"As a Sith, you serve your betters, but you do it for yourself, not because they command it. Power is your means, and your end; it is your answer to any question as to your identity, as to your rightfulness to go where you please, and the only thing you should answer to is power." As Tsisaar monologued, Thesh would begin to sense a light feeling of constriction around his neck and chest. Not enough to restrict his breathing, but moderately uncomfortable nonetheless. "If somebody with lesser power than yourself should think to command you, you should disavow him of the notion, and make yourself grow in the conflict. If somebody has greater power than you, you shall obey them, and you shall always strive to see what you can learn and gain in doing so." Slowly, the pressure around Thesh's airway began to increase, starting to cut off his access to oxygen. Before long, the young man would find himself without any ability to breathe at all.

"Kowtow to your master if you wish, but while I teach you, I expect your eyes to be open at all times." Tighter. "I expect your head up, ready to learn, not just to serve." Tighter. "I expect you to have your own willpower, your own hunger for knowledge, and I expect to see it." Tighter. "I expect your demand for greater power, your pride in yourself, and I expect you to battle me every step of the way for more." By now, the experience of pressure could be described as choking, but with extreme effort Thesh could still force air into his lungs.

"For a slave does not confront his masters, nor does he seek to demand more of them. But a Sith grows through confrontation, and should always be wanting more than what they are given."

The choking force reached the zenith of its strength, with no air able to come either in or out of Thesh's airway. A calculated move on Tsisaar's part, to force the boy to answer the way Tsisaar wished him to.

"So which is it, boy? Are you a slave, with no purpose beyond what his master puts him to, or are you a Sith?"

[member="Thesh"]

 

[Lief]

The man broke into a speech once the code had been uttered, brandishing the tag and pointing to the burn scar upon the boys wrist to emphasize his point. It was, in some ways, a call to arms, though the attack to be overcome was not of a tangible form but instead referred to the bindings which lay around his person, wrapping him up like a constrictor until all sense of autonomy and self-fulfillment had been snuffed out. His Master had, in truth, already been pushing him to overcome such, though Maliphant's approach had been much more subtle.

Thesh had thought it was so that he was not overwhelmed by the changes, but as he thought on it now perhaps that was not the case at all.

Perhaps it was to lessen the chance that the boy might seize his chance. To quench the fires which raged beneath the surface, and ensure that their power dynamic remained as it was. Or perhaps it was because that was how he was presented to him. It was part of the greater plan, he knew, more of a test for Maliphant himself than for Thesh.

The Empire had already deemed Thesh a failure, after all, they did not truly expect anything to come from it.

Yet the Sith before him now had not been privy to such. He had not seen their first attempts at training him, many moons ago, had not been made aware of the test which was already stacked against them, he saw Thesh for his own present worth - however little that might have been - and it seemed he was not willing to let the boy hide behind his past.

He could not be Sith and Slave. The small taste of freedom he'd been granted since landing on Bastion had made him hunger for more of the same, and he knew that the only way to satiate that hunger was to prove himself worthy. It had been in the back of his mind since that first day, and now it was practically screaming to him.

When the tag fell into the dirt Thesh did not even look to it. Already the fire he'd pushed deep inside was bubbling up, and as the man began his steady monologue, as his throat became constricted, and the words became far more intense, it became difficult to ignore. He listened as best he could with the added distraction at his throat, eyes fixed upon the man who was in that moment both his oppressor and his liberator, and as the grip tightened, as the man proclaimed what he wanted from the boy, he had already deduced where the speech was headed.

Even before the man was finished, before the question was posed, he had begun to draw upon the Force. No longer distracted by the pain, no longer focusing on the lack of air, even as his face turned a rather alarming shade of red, he focused. Focused on the man, on all that had been said, on the rage which boiled within, and when the time came he let it all out.

Everything which had been pent up. Years of pitiful anger, and indignation, all of the abuse he had suffered, and the loss he'd been forced to endure, the stripping down of his person until all that had remained was a shadow of a man; not even that, of a boy. Even as his vision began to blur, and blood thumped desperately within his ears, he drew upon it all.

Then it pooled together and burst free in one sudden and unexpected blast directed straight at Tsisaar.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

Even when he had felt that [member="Thesh"] was gathering in his power, Tsisaar kept up with his lesson, and didn't relinquish his grasp on the boy's throat. Merely preparing for an attack wasn't enough for Tsisaar; the test wouldn't be complete until Thesh either went through with it, or cowered and died, begging for mercy. If the latter had occurred, Tsisaar could easily apologize to the boy's master and go about his business. Thankfully, that did not happen.

Tsisaar raised a hand, meeting the blast with a wall of greater strength, Thesh's energies dissipating against it. Still, despite the unsuccessful nature of the attack, the test was completed as Tsisaar wanted it. Instantly, the pressure that held Thesh's airway shut was released, air flooding back into the lungs of the young man. "Good," Tsisaar breathed, pleased with what had occurred. Thesh had shown himself possessed of the same inner fire that every Sith had to maintain, lest they be consumed by others around them.

While he had no gift for prescience, he felt that the boy's future would prove a fruitful one.

There was one other matter to attend to, however.

Tsisaar held out his left hand, palm up. Compared to the boy's five-fingered human hands, he imagined his four clawed digits, displayed now so prominently, would prove somewhat disconcerting. "Your arm, boy," he said peremptorily, nodding down at Thesh's branded wrist. Meanwhile, within his robes, Tsisaar's free hand grasped at an extremely sharp knife. "You will give it to me."

 

[Lief]

It burned, oh how it burned, when the air rushed back into his lungs.

The gasp which paved the way for such was louder than he realized, ears ringing, and though his knees tried to buckle he forced himself to remain standing. It was a difficult feat to be sure, Thesh was almost naturally inclined to find his way to his knees one way or another, yet in that moment he had no desire to fall back into the dirt.

Even as he fought to remain upright, as his vision blurred and head pounded, he felt the binds begin to loosen. There was to be no quick fix, of course, even if the boy believed it to be so, no sudden - at least permanent - change to his character, but the words, the lesson, had already wormed deep into his consciousness.

And that was all that was really required. One seed of doubt ready to germinate.

The ringing turned to steady thumps in his ears, and his vision cleared. Forcing himself to regulate his breathing, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to drink in the hot soupy air, Thesh blinked and set his gaze right back on Tsis.

One hand had been extended out, and he looked to it for a moment with uncertainty. He was acutely aware of which arm it was he wanted, that which bore the branding, and that fact alone moved his arm from his side out into the strange four-digit'd hand of the Sith.

He didn't speak yet, his heart hammering against his chest, but he had a feeling he did not need to. Not quite yet, anyway.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

Tsisaar grasped the arm just past the branded spot, his claws digging in painfully to the boy's flesh. The branding stood out angrily against Thesh's otherwise pale skin, the marker of a time that had, finally, been brought to an end. It reminded Tsisaar of his own life, the years spent toiling for a master that held him only as an object of contempt. Something to be used until a better implement was devised, and then the old one would be discarded, destroyed, left to rot. Tsisaar, however, had the power to prevent that from happening, and found his way to the Sith instead.

Now was the time for [member="Thesh"] to leave his own past behind, stepping fully into his life as a Sith.

"The name you had before today does not matter," Tsisaar began. "Your name of birth belonged to the old you. The old you was a timid slave, useless for nothing but the work he could be commanded to do." Tsisaar jerked Thesh's arm upwards, forcing the boy to look at his branding. "You may have been called Thesh as a slave, but it was never truly your name. That, however, ends today." The arm was brought back down, Tsisaar staring into Thesh's eyes.

"It was a source of weakness for you, a reminder of your lowly status. No more. Now, you will take that name and turn it into your own weapon, forging your own identity through it. No longer the title of a slave, but the name of a Sith." In a flash of motion faster than Thesh would be able to easily see, Tsisaar whipped out the knife, slicing off the layers of skin that held onto the branding scar. Releasing Thesh's arm he caught it, before quickly transferring it into a sample tube. Something to study for later, even while it gave a lesson to the younger Sith.

He looked over at the bleeding boy, before sliding off his rock and smoothly stepping over, clasping a hand over the bloodied patch. "Let this blood be your anointing oil," he intoned, before drawing on the Force. While healing wasn't his strongest area of skill, he knew how to do it; shortly, Thesh's injured arm would begin to burn with a pain stronger than that of the branding iron, while his tissues were willed to regrow, to knit together, to cover over the wound entirely.

Within moments Tsisaar released both the Force and the boy's arm; where before there had been a bloody patch of missing flesh, now there was only a faint discolouration to mark where the branded spot had been. A nearly unnoticeable scar, even with how large it was. With Thesh's blood now dripping down his own hand, Tsisaar reached out with one clawed finger, first tracing out the letter thesh on the boy's wrist, then ritualistically tracing the ancient symbol of the Sith Order on the boy's forehead. "From this point onward, Thesh, you are an Acolyte of the Sith. You have truly taken your first steps into the Force, and cast aside your lowly origins. In keeping with the code, your first chains are broken." He shook his hand off to the side, a spray of blood flinging off and landing in the dirt.

"You may know me as Tsisaar, Knight and Inquisitor of the Sith," he said formally, only now giving Thesh a bow of the head in acknowledgement. "You may refer to me as Master Taral." Tsisaar retrieved the sample of Thesh's flesh, placing it and the sealed tube it was in within his robes. Then, he turned to face the ruins, gesturing to a point deep within the complex.

"Now, for your final task with me," he started. "I desire a book. You will undertake the effort to find it, while I monitor you." He stepped aside, gesturing at the ruins.

"Lead the way, Acolyte."

 

[Lief]

Though he winced, the boy made no other outward sign of his initial discomfort when the man's claws dug into the skin.

Years of torment and abuse had left him with a rather thick skin, despite his craven nature, he was able to endure things most his age would be crippled by without so much as an outcry, after all to many such was weakness, and weakness had to be broken out of you. Well, at least out of him.

The man spoke as he pulled the arm up, and Thesh was forced to confront the brand head on. He had seen it countless times, of course, but never in such a way. Looking at it now, from such an angle, flashed the memories of its creation through his mind. The searing pain had been nothing compared to the stench of burning flesh, a most putrid smell to be sure. One which had turned his stomach, and almost threatened to do so again with mere recollection of it. After all those years he could still smell it, embedded within his memory.

Mention of his birth name, however dismissively, had other memories come to mind too, yet in each of them the name he had been given at birth was just out of earshot. He could not remember who he had been prior to the sacking of Ession, could not truly remember the sound of his mother's voice, or even the faces of his brothers.

To let that name go was impossible, because it wasn't there to begin with. But the name Thesh, that which had been branded into his wrist, that which had been given to him upon his arrival on Bastion years after the branding itself, prior to which he had been referred to as a number, as boy, as slave, that was one he was now being told to embrace.

To reclaim.

He was about to respond, though whatever words were meant to leave his mouth were torn from him in an instance when the flesh was rend from his wrist. It burned and ached and pulsated so violently that the boy physically convulsed for a moment where he stood, and though he bit down his teeth tightly together a disgruntled and pained noise was ripped from his throat all the same.

His arm fell through the air toward his side, already he could feel the warm, ruddy ichor of life running down his fingertips and when he glanced down his already pale skin seemed to turn a ghostly white.

Thesh was no stranger to blood.

He'd patched up more than his fair share of wounds, he had seen those same wounds fester with infection, yet something about the circumstances, about the way the blood seemingly refused to stop, got under his skin. He swayed on the spot, knees once again threatening to buckle, and he visibly strengthened his stance to refrain from doing so. The tears which had welled up in his eyes remained where they were, the boy refusing to let them fall.

Mere moments later the same clawed hand reached out to get a hold over the wound, and Thesh focused on the words of the man to keep himself from slipping into a worsened state. Shock was on the cusp of setting in. Perhaps it had been too long since he'd last been punished, perhaps he'd gotten soft.

Funnily enough, the taking of his skin seemed nothing when compared to its reknitting. It was that which proved to be his undoing, causing his already weak legs to collapse beneath him until his arm was raised high above his head still within the man's grasp. Those tears fell silently, though there was no sadness upon his expression just terrible rage that pulsed through him and seemed to fuel even the deepest parts of his core.

He could feel the Force around them in that moment, feel the skin knitting back together, it was a sickening sensation even without the pain to contend with and the boy turned practically green. But he did not balk, he did not try to stop it, and he did not tear his eyes away from the man who presently towered over him.

It was a powerful moment, and he realized that even through the nightmarish agony, he was being stripped of the past, of the power it held over him.

Like a phoenix the fire which burned within, and without - centered around the furious wound - would eclipse him, and allow him to arise anew from the ashes.

He remained there on his knees even when the process was complete. Symbols made of his own blood were spread over his skin, drying against his wrist and forehead, an almost ritualistic ceremony pushed forward by the words of the Sith. A chain had indeed been broken, he could feel it slipping away from around him, and despite the soupy air he felt himself able to breathe properly for the first time in years. Without the weighted burden of his station. Without the pressures on his mind.

"T-Thank you, Master Taral," he breathed, when the moment was complete, though he was not sure if thanking the man was really the wisest thing. Would that undermine all that had just happened? He truly hoped not, because that had not been his intention.

Pushing up from the ground, ignoring the blood which dripped from his fingertips, the boy followed Tsis' gesture into the ruins with his gaze and gave a firm and rather confident nod.

After all he had faced so far, he felt certain he could manage the ruins.

He did not say anything as he picked up his electroblade from where it had fallen against the ground, when the boys knees had buckled. The tag was ignored completely, left where it lay in the dirt beside his unintentionally forgotten robe, and all too aware of the man who walked behind him the boy led the way, self-conscious yet liberated all at once. Out from the shade, into the sun, for the briefest moment of time, before they dipped into the darkness which permeated the interior of the ruins.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

Tsisaar stretched a hand out behind himself as he started to follow behind Thesh; the ID tag, so negligently tossed in the dirt, flew into the elder Sith's hand. While Thesh had just begun to take his true steps into the path of the Sith, it would still behoove the boy to maintain appearances in some circumstances...just so long as he didn't allow himself to backslide. Pocketing the tag for later, Tsisaar placidly followed along behind the boy into the darkness of the ruins.

"Remember that the Force flows through all things," he coached, as the pair walked in darkness, lit by the extremely faint illumination coming off of Thesh's training weapon, as sparks of electricity danced along its length. "Through you, through me; even in the very ground we walk and the air we breathe, the Force is present." As they walked, Tsisaar allowed his senses to wander through the catacombs they were descending into, searching for other lifeforms, be they intelligent or not.

Thankfully, the area they were in was devoid of workers or other Sith. In fact, it was only recently opened, and hadn't yet been particularly explored beyond a very cursory examination. Every so often, a glowstick was stuck to the wall, providing some faint illumination to mark their trail every ten meters. The effect was ghostly and ethereal, as the pair constantly moved from bubbles of light back into the oppressive darkness. Tsisaar revelled in it for a moment; the exploration of forgotten ruins and hopefully-empty tombs was something he greatly enjoyed. His historical bent lent itself well to such things. He had yet to know how Thesh would react to it, though.

"Let that presence guide your senses. Be wary of traps, as there are many in places such as these. As well, there are other lifeforms. Mere vermin are common, small rats, insects, and the like. But the ancient Sith and their allies were fond of other beasts. Tuk'ata hounds were often brought along, and many still live in tombs such as these. Great Hssiss lizards, sustained by the Dark Side, fond of the blood and flesh of sentient beings...and even swarms of Pelko bugs, with their toxic stingers. It's a shame you don't yet have a lightsaber of your own; the light scares those last creatures away."

As he spoke, the sounds of the animals he mentioned, and others, seemed to emanate from deeper within the ruin, echoing through the halls. The roar of a Tuk'ata, engaged in some battle, the hissing of a Hssiss, and the grinding of its scales on the floor. And, both ahead of them and behind them, the chittering of vast swarms of bugs, watching the pair with interest.

Whether the sounds were real, or mere illusions conjured to test Thesh's nerve, could not be said.

However, what was most definitely real was another sound the pair began to hear as they walked. The whirrs and clanks of an ancient droid, heavy footfalls echoing as it patrolled through the ruin. Tsisaar peered into the darkness, catching a glint of metal as the droid passed one of the glowsticks in the wall; more than that, he saw the barrel of a blaster.

He stopped in place, though he didn't say anything to the boy walking beside him.

[member="Thesh"]

 

[Lief]

Though the boy was not the most well versed in the Force at this stage, he did know enough to sense it and when it was used. For a moment he was confused by what had been done, but he supposed it wasn't really any of his business until it directly affected him. As a result he pressed on, resisting the urge to glance back at Tsis, and was met with oppressive darkness and ethereal glowering in the distance.

Glowsticks, it turned out, were the source of the strange light. Barely lighting up the air around them, it cast an almost alien glow throughout the ruined hallway.

His eyes darted over everything that he could see, when close enough to the glowsticks. Soaking in the impressions and runes which had been etched into the walls, the occasional bit of pottery or other archaeological find that was in abundance and thus had yet to be picked up from their resting place. It was nice to be able to learn again, after years of stagnant education, years of his Masters trying to dumb him down. Mal's first real action as his Master had been to broaden the boys mind, get him back to learning, a series of books had been dropped into lap and since that moment the boy had been playing catch up.

Tsis' words had him turn his head to look upon the man, before the source of conversation had him divert his senses and focus back to the path they walked along. He could feel it, even as the man began to speak, the flow of the Force, it didn't come as naturally to him as it did most others but he had learned enough to pick up on it.

There was plenty to be worried of when it came to lifeforms in the ruins, he came to learn, vornskr, and lizards, and bugs. That had him narrow his focus, drawing upon what little he knew of the Force to expand his senses in an attempt to keep tabs on the creatures. He realized, soon enough, that they were being watched, followed, and off in the distance - even before the sounds came to him - some of the larger predators prowled.

All of that seemed far enough away. What was of pressing concern, however, was the sudden mechanical whirring coming from down the hall. The grinding of gears, shaking of bolts, heavy footfalls, and when Tsis halted Thesh took one or two further steps and then halted. He hadn't seen it, but he could sense it. It felt... Strange. Different to most other things he could feel in that space. Less life-filled and more hollow.

Brandishing his electroblade, the boy took a very simple ready stance, defensive in nature, his ears practically twitching as he sought out more information on the being.

But he was no fighter, and he had barely truly begun his tuition in the Force. He swallowed back his fear, let out a soft breath, and took one more step forward.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

Tsisaar closed his eyes, retreating into the darkness. "Focus on the Force," he said quietly to Thesh. Further beyond, the droid seemed to twitch at the sound, halting its forward movement. "Feel the oscillations of energy, radiating outward from the droid's chassis. Even among droids, the Force has a presence." The droid raised up its blaster, though the pair was still too far to be picked up by its ancient photoreceptors; quite a bit of the droid's machinery and circuitry was likely heavily corroded by the damp air within the ruins, lessening the effectiveness of its sensors considerably.

"Open yourself to it," Tsisaar continued, firmly focused on the droid still. "Your body is but an extension of the Force, through which it can be channelled. All that is needed is the will to succeed, the drive to survive, the urge to win." The droid started to move forwards again, disabling the safety on its blaster. Within a short time, it would be able to see the pair and begin to fire. "You may succeed in this by a simple test of arms, untrained though you are in martial skills, but even high skill will never succeed in true combat without the Dark Side guiding your movements."

Clank. Clank. Clank.

The droid was coming extremely close now, whirring and clicking as it walked; the closer it got, the more detail Tsisaar could make out once he opened his eyes again. Its chassis was heavily corroded, with sparks flying from loose wires as the twitching construct moved towards them. Looking within, he could see the processor and control clusters spaced throughout the battle machine, before, silently, he backed away, out of the range which the droid could see...leaving Thesh alone in its sights.

The droid turned quickly, training its blaster on Thesh. "Now!" Tsisaar commanded, before the droid itself opened fire on the pale-skinned intruder.

[member="Thesh"]

 

[Lief]

Tsis' words provided him with both the confidence and the focus he needed.

There was not necessarily guidance wrapped within, at least nothing that would directly hint at how to take down the rusted foe before them, but it did allow him to get in tune with the Force which lay all around them, reminded him that even where there is not necessary life there is the Force, and with that in mind, alongside the lessons of his Master, the boy began to draw upon it once more. He stole back the fury he had unleashed earlier, harnessed the emotions which had caused his outburst, and held on to it. Allowed it to build up, to warp and envelop him.

Where he stood, the boy practically shook. Under the pressure, under the flow of the Force, and the corruption of the Darkside which was beginning to seep in, previously rejected yet now welcomed across the threshold of his being. He could barely contain it all within his minuscule form and yet somehow, somehow, he managed to hold off.

Eyes fell upon the droid as it truly came into view, clanking as it walked. Exposed wires, central components open to the air, rusted bolts, there was so much to target, so many options, and though he did not know much about the anatomy of droids he could make sense of some of it.

When the time came, the boy raised the hand which did not contain his electroblade and used it as a focus for his assault. As with before, an untamed blast of potent energy was released this time in the direction of the droid - aimed specifically at the weakened mess of bolts and wires which held the blaster arm in place. Rusted, structure compromised, it was his hope that the pure kinetic force would prove enough to unhinge the weapon.

And yet, in the meantime, blaster bolts had already been loosed.

Some were caught up in Thesh's own assault, knocked off kilter and sent into the walls around them, or rebounding though his lack of precision meant neither struck back at the droid. At least one, however, got through, and it barreled through the air toward him where it struck against his right arm - burning something fierce.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

With the damage done to its various systems, it was no surprise that the droid was unable to successfully blast Thesh more than once. Likely, Tsisaar surmised, the circuitry governing the droid's targetting and steadying controls had corroded to the point where the best that the machine could level out was an unrefined spew of bolts. Thesh's lashing out at the droid didn't help matters for the machine, which, given it didn't have any ability to shield itself like Tsisaar did, was met with the full force of the unrefined attack.

The arm and blaster did not go flying away with a snap of bolts and tearing of wires, though the blaster was knocked off target. The droid itself, deteriorated as it was and with no way to absorb the shock, stumbled backwards into the wall, the stone it ran into being the only thing that managed to keep it upright. For a moment, however, it slumped. Various systems were moved, likely short-circuited, and the gyroscopic equilibrium the droid used to determine its positioning was disturbed.

"Finish it!" Tsisaar hissed, seeing the droid's cognitive module exposed through the corroded chassis. One thrust from [member="Thesh"] through the decaying armour plating with his electroblade would fry it completely, effectively disabling the droid. But, as it began to stir, trying to right itself and regain aim, the boy wouldn't have very long.

 

[Lief]

Thesh was already on it.

Fueled by the burning in his arm he caught a second wind, despite the fact that the blast - added to the one he'd exhibited earlier - had all but drained him. Transferring the weapon into his left hand, to lessen the burden on his injured arm, the boy kicked off and set himself into a sprint toward the downed-yet-recovering droid.

His attack hadn't gone entirely as planned, he had been excited to see a spluttering of bolts and a detached arm, but that did not matter now. There was no time to pout or to worry or to scold himself mentally. No, he had to put some ground between himself and Tsis', to reach the walking bag of circuits, before it righted itself.

Because then there'd be little stopping it from making Thesh a bloody mess against the wall. It wasn't as though he knew how to redirect the bolts with his blade. Or even really deflect them in any fashion. His practice with the blade had barely begun, though he did know just enough for what came next.

He pushed off the ground with one mighty thrust, right leg leading the way, and as the droid began to rise he mixed its upward momentum with the downward thrust of his blade, cutting effortlessly through the outer layers of the droid's plating on its way toward the exposed module.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

The tip of the blade passed easily through the corroded, crumbling, and cracked outer casing of the battle droid, before lodging itself deep within the central control cluster, processor, and droid brain. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, as the droid continued attempting to move, before the electricity that started arcing off of Thesh's blade quickly shorted and fried everything within the droid's torso. The blaster rifle fell, the droid's limbs and head going completely limp, before it fell with a clatter, yanking Thesh's blade and arm down with it.

Tsisaar stepped forward again, inspecting the droid and the rifle with a curious eye. "Interesting," he muttered. "Most of the ruins in this mountainous area are nearly four thousand years old...this droid, however, seems to be quite a bit older." Interesting, but not surprising; while the most well-known act of the Sith on Kruskan in earlier history was numerous acolytes hiding a holocron up in a mountain stronghold, it was extremely likely that there had been a significant presence on the planet well before then. The other excavations corroborated that same idea, as did the presence of the crystalline shards that Tsisaar and some others had been gifted with.

His eyes lifted from the droid, peering on down the hall. While he couldn't see anything, he could feel a tenseness that hadn't previously been in the air in this part of the ruins. Other parts of the excavation, other buildings, the aforementioned mountain stronghold in a slightly nearby area, had all been met with attacks from wildlife that had eked out their survival down in the ruins. This section, minimally explored as it was, hadn't run into such yet.

Of course, it hadn't run into patrolling battle droids either.

Somewhere further on, a howl started to echo through the complex that Thesh and Tsisaar were currently in, before being taken up by some other animals. "Tuk'ata," Tsisaar observed uncaringly. "Likely alerted by the sound of the blasterfire." He glanced down at the destroyed droid again, and his huleppi twitched in mild annoyance. After a moment, though, he turned back to @Thesh. "Lead on," he commanded.

 

[Lief]

As the electricity from his blade discharged throughout the droid, the boy found himself pulled down toward the ground where his knees hit the ancient stone tiles that lay there. He winced, before doing his best to hide such from his face, and clambered to rise. The blade was pulled back with very subtle resistance, almost as though the droid was clinging to it, and only then did he let out the breath he'd been holding.

He was exhausted.

Well and truly drained.

But he knew the test had only really just begun. There was still no book, after all, and they were barely inside the ruins. He sucked in some air and tried to awaken his mind. Thesh felt certain he'd never exerted himself through the Force this much before, not even during training sessions, though the physical activity attached to it, as well as the physical trauma, did not help one bit. His wrist was itching, bloodied knees felt bruised, and his right shoulder still burned.

Despite that, he managed to stand tall. The blade was grasped within both hands for the time being, though part of him wanted to put it back in place upon his back the sound of distant howls made him think twice about that. Instead he put one foot in front of the other and led the way through the ruins.

"It looked like someone else had attacked the droid," he remarked, almost to pass the time but also with very mild concern, "Is there a chance that someone else has been here already, recently? That the book is already gone?"

Some of the rust holes had been larger than he thought there was much right for them to be, after all, almost as though it had faced attacks prior to their coming here. Though, if that had been the case, why was it still operational?

The boys cheeks became slightly flushed, though it wasn't obvious in the dim light, maybe he'd just put his foot in his mouth with what could easily have been a stupid question. Still, he decided, it didn't hurt to ask.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Shade of Decay]

Tsisaar didn't respond to Thesh's question for a moment, instead closing his eyes. With some small effort of concentration he reached out with his focus, before quickly drawing back within himself. "Unlikely," he replied shortly. "So far as I know, our prize yet remains. Don't forget the howls you heard; even though they are mere beasts, the Tuk'ata, the Hssiss, and similar creatures are all empowered by the Force. Part of the purpose of the droids was likely to guard against the animals, rather than just intruders." He let the pair lapse into silence again, walking surely behind Thesh.

Every so often, the sound of howls, growls, and barking echoed back through the halls; sometimes sounding near, sometimes further away. The labyrinth of hallways and rooms that made up the complex likely wasn't even perfectly known to the creatures that had been living and breeding in it for untold ages; still, it was only a matter of time before the Tuk'ata would pick them up, either by scent or by the Force. However, it appeared that the pair still had time for such.

After a while of walking, they came to a fork in the hallway, one hall heading off to the right, entirely unexplored; the other, off to the left, had the glowsticks which had marked their path so far. From the unexplored section, an unnerving hiss continued to emanate, having grown louder as the pair approached intersection; Tsisaar, however, appeared entirely unfazed by it. "It appears a decision must be made," he observed, peering down both halls.

"Which path shall we take, apprentice?" he asked after a moment, turning his eyes back to [member="Thesh"] and studiously ignoring the hiss. "Choose carefully. It would be a shame to have to backtrack, or wind around farther when we could have reached our goal more quickly, don't you think?"

 

[Lief]

What his instructor said certainly made more sense, in hindsight, than Thesh's initial idea. That there would have been droids and creatures left within if someone had passed through would be unlikely, and if someone had gotten through yet perished, then... Well, the book would still be in place. Still Tsis didn't condescend him or make him feel foolish for his thought. At least in the boys eyes he didn't. And that was reassuring enough.

Even so, the boy decided against voicing any of his other concerns aloud and continued to walk on ahead. The ruins were far larger than they had seemed on the exterior, winding passages of crumbling stone and archaic runes lit up by glowsticks on the walls. His eyes fell over any of the ones which were at least partly legible, and though some held familiarity with aurebesh most were entirely alien to him. Part of him wanted to make notes, or rubbings, but they had a task at hand.

Maybe he would document them when they were done. If Tsis permitted it.

If I survive this.

Which, judging by the howls in the distance, was not an entirely stupid consideration. He was still just a child, after all, and though he had brought down a rusty old droid he knew that facing a foe bred to kill the likes of them was going to be a much harder task indeed. One he wasn't very well prepared for.

Eventually they came to a fork in the road, the first real one, and the decision as to where they went was left up to him. Did they take the route already traveled by, illuminated and in a sense safer, or that which was darkened and held hissing deep within?

He stood there and contemplated an answer. And then, swallowing back his fears, he gestured into the darkness.

"That way," he said, with a slight warble to his voice; after all, if the other way had already been explored then the chances of the book laying within its halls were slim. Someone else might have already taken it, or found that only a dead end lay in store and backtracked. The other way, though? That held more possibilities.

And admittedly, more dangers.

He stepped into the darkness, reaching for the Force in search of what lay within, to heighten his senses so that he could make out the path ahead. At the same time, he was all too aware of that continual hissing...

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]