The screams of his former mentor and father tore at the edge of Graxin's mind. He had bound the Sith Lord's spirit to his own; taken his very soul and ripped it from its hollow shell. Krag would not know peace, nor would he know the painful yet certain terror of Chaos. Darth Vulcanus was forever doomed to walk between the lines of reality and the force for however long Graxin willed it. It was highly unlikely this bond could even be undone, and truly, Graxin did not care. The more the Graug suffered, the better. He would make sure Vulcanus saw every decision his former apprentice made from now on. The Graug were his to command. The Dark Side his eternal ally.
The galaxy was open to him, and he would take it as he saw fit. The screaming began to silence itself, and the old Sith Lord's spirit went with it. It would never materialize unless Graxin willed it. The Master had become the servant, as Krag had taught him so very many years ago.
Consumed in his own newly awakened power, Graxin did not notice that Dredge still breathed. He didn't care. The Vong would spread tales of the Jedi Knight who had bested him. The thought brought a monstrous smile to Graxin's lips as he called forth Krag's lightsaber to his hand. It flew to his fingertips without any resistance whatsoever, and hissed as Graxin ignited the black core. "You are my slave now, father. Whenever I call upon you, you will come. Until I do, you will follow wander the plane of existence between the force and the corporeal world." The black blade was attached to his hip. "Enjoy yourself."
The Knight turned about to call down the Mephirium for pick up when the force left him. It was sudden and violent. The inferno of the Dark Side that had filled him was smothered under the weight of his actions. He had gone back on his oaths. He had given into temptation. He had lost himself.
Graxin doubled over, a hand pressed to his stomach. He stumble forward as he tried to find something to brace himself on, and clamped onto one of the overturned shipment crates. He had tasted real power for a moment, exacted his revenge, and it sickened him. What would the others think?
He dry heaved over the side of the landing pad. It was a loud, cringe inducing sound that those who had witnessed the duel no doubt heard. The immense pain from his wounds was making itself known now as well, and it was all he could do to stand. Stumbling, Graxin made his way to the center of the landing pad, and collapsed. He did his best to center himself, and called desperately upon the light. Slowly, his body began to mend itself...an act that drained him terribly.
He would never betray his oaths again. He had won, and he would turn his back on the Dark Side...
But the seed had been planted, whether he would admit it or not...
The galaxy was open to him, and he would take it as he saw fit. The screaming began to silence itself, and the old Sith Lord's spirit went with it. It would never materialize unless Graxin willed it. The Master had become the servant, as Krag had taught him so very many years ago.
Consumed in his own newly awakened power, Graxin did not notice that Dredge still breathed. He didn't care. The Vong would spread tales of the Jedi Knight who had bested him. The thought brought a monstrous smile to Graxin's lips as he called forth Krag's lightsaber to his hand. It flew to his fingertips without any resistance whatsoever, and hissed as Graxin ignited the black core. "You are my slave now, father. Whenever I call upon you, you will come. Until I do, you will follow wander the plane of existence between the force and the corporeal world." The black blade was attached to his hip. "Enjoy yourself."
The Knight turned about to call down the Mephirium for pick up when the force left him. It was sudden and violent. The inferno of the Dark Side that had filled him was smothered under the weight of his actions. He had gone back on his oaths. He had given into temptation. He had lost himself.
Graxin doubled over, a hand pressed to his stomach. He stumble forward as he tried to find something to brace himself on, and clamped onto one of the overturned shipment crates. He had tasted real power for a moment, exacted his revenge, and it sickened him. What would the others think?
He dry heaved over the side of the landing pad. It was a loud, cringe inducing sound that those who had witnessed the duel no doubt heard. The immense pain from his wounds was making itself known now as well, and it was all he could do to stand. Stumbling, Graxin made his way to the center of the landing pad, and collapsed. He did his best to center himself, and called desperately upon the light. Slowly, his body began to mend itself...an act that drained him terribly.
He would never betray his oaths again. He had won, and he would turn his back on the Dark Side...
But the seed had been planted, whether he would admit it or not...
