Knowledge is it's own reward.

[Count Nergal]

It had been a few days since he'd arrived at the Academy on Serreno and he had already spent all of his free time in the library. The librarian already sending him weird looks given that even though he was walking with a book open in his hands his head didn't seem to show any indication of reading the book, instead ever looking forwards. Through the force however there wasn't a single letter looked over, not a single sentence read and reread so that his mind could fully digest and compartmentalize the knowledge stored within. No book he could access at his current level was left unread, be it chronicles, journals and other collections of knowledge that had been stored here all at his fingertips.

After he'd gotten enough to have a solid foundation and understanding of the sith philosophy his gaze turned to the scarce collection for other force using traditions. Though he quickly saw that they were all written through the lens of a sith's perspective, it wasn't as useful as he'd hoped. He had been fascinated with the force and the history of its users before he'd joined the academy but a demonstration of force lightning had been a metaphorical eye opener. Being unprepared to literally see the power take shape and manifest through the force had left him near blinded for a few moments but it had shown him the potential. The force was so much more than the sense of connection and awareness of his surroundings that he had been used to. Oh true the advisors of the court had tried to guide him to make small barriers with the force, to move small objects with his mind and even draw sustenance from the force to a degree but he'd thought that would be it.
Now he stood in a place were the force wasn't just teased out for small snippets of its immense world shaking power but into pieces large and small enough to mould and bend to ones will. To make the power of the force his own. Yet he wanted to see how others did the same, he wanted to get his hands on the libraries or tomes of any other force using religion, cult or group and learn what he could from them.

He wanted the tools to come at any problem from any direction when it came to the force. To quote one of his instructors, to make the force his, to bend it to his will in all things. It might be simply something he said to stoke the passions of the acolytes but the current text Nergal held in his hands was one about the jedi and as he closed it he stood in quiet meditation for a few long moments to let the book fully sink in and to draw his conclusions with what knowledge he already had.

The Dark Side is no stronger than the Light Side. This rang like a truth to him, for in reality the dark and light were simply the half's of a single whole that was the force. It was the individuals strength and ability to draw upon and command the force that made one truly powerful. If the dark side was the stronger as some of his instructors claimed then the sith would always win but then why was the average sith apprentice so often a better measure of power than the average jedi padawan? Then what of the jedi? Their knights such as Luke, Rey, Yoda, Anakin and Kenobi went against sith considered powerful and either came out on top or were mostly a match for one another with each capable of holding their own.
Nergal took a step back in his thoughts and looked at the whole picture that he had before him. The Sith, to counterbalance their superior martial might, and access to a great amount of damaging powers, have always had a serious weaknesses in organization. The Dark Side poorly wielded in the hands of multiple users working on watered down teachings from masters fearing betrayal. Even the Rule of Two failed to completely solve this problem, with Sith Lords attempting to break it all the time.

On the other hand, though often individually weaker, the Jedi are a well organized and seriously coordinated order. The Empress might be far stronger than a single Jedi, but if the whole Order with an armada of ships showed up at her door? The Jedi would invariably win. Like an ant colony against a single large beetle, it would put up a valiant fight but the weight of organized numbers would invariably tip the scales. So to survive and thrive he had to look at not just the Jedi and Sith, how they did things and were their strengths and failures lay but all other force using traditions.
There was something there just outside his grasp, a kernel of truth that could lead him onto a path of power wholly his own yet also in its own way a path a Sith could take.

It was in Sith nature to pursue personal advancement at any cost, excising anything that might interfere in said pursuit of power. No room for Selflessness, reciprocity, love or compassion. The Sith are, at their core, individual ambition distilled and warped towards a single goal; absolute control of one's own life, regardless of whoever is crushed in the process. The Sith allows gifted individuals to innovate and change in ways which institutions cannot. They may be far more flexible to deal with situations as they emerge, and dare to take risks which no institution would ever tolerate. They can achieve a great deal…but they can also fail just as spectacularly. The rule of two wold be an example of how failure can be born from victory.

The old Jedi on the other hand were emblematic of institutional fealty that pursued selfless dedication to the institution at any cost. Anything which interfered with their purpose had be excised; family, romance, friendships, even individuality at times, all of these were obstacles to a Jedi’s resolve. There was no room for selfishness, exclusivity, or love. It is institutional dedication distilled and directed towards a single goal; absolute loyalty to the Jedi Code, regardless of their personal ability to adhere to it which had stifled any talent they might have had from truly flourishing. However it was precisely this institutional dedication which ultimately proved to be the Jedi’s undoing. While the Sith engaged in a millennia-long process of bloody advancement through natural selection, ruthlessly altering and advancing their powers over the corpses of hundreds of failed apprentices and masters, the Jedi remained static. Institutions which cannot change, cannot adapt and institutions which cannot adapt, die. Their downfall had been by their own hand and inevitable in the end.

With these thoughts whirling in his head he returned the book in his hands to its proper place among the shelves. Content in knowing his foundations still required building, tempering and testing. The sith forged themselves through fire, conflict and competition while the Jedi did so through introspection, meditation and control. He would learn from both but bend them to his will, as any sith should do.
With a measured gait and sure steps he left the library and headed to the training rooms, a holoviewer and several disks detailing teachings of combat and the use of the force in a pouch at his hip to be used as references and guides in his training. Some from his own private collection, copies brought from home and others found and copied from the academies archives. Right as he left the library a thought or rather an adage came to his mind and he found it fitting.

"Knowledge corrupts, it is a dangerous thing."

 

[Count Nergal]

The next day he was there within the halls of the library once again. This time he was searching through any records or passages pertaining to his force sight. The way it allowed him to see all around himself and observe some of the minute details at times had opened up a question for him or rather a hypothesis. Could there be a way to anticipate what his opponent would do if he studied the movements of the styles he would most likely face in the future. It wouldn't make him some invincible duellist but forewarned is forearmed after all. Knowing what your opponent is doing even slightly earlier than otherwise might be the key to snatching victory after all.

His fingers ran over the spines of the tomes in the shelf and he paused as his eyes in the force read over the titles. Taking one out of the shelf and opening it up and sure enough it was as he'd suspected. He'd somehow stumbled upon introductory primers on different force abilities most often viewed as common. In his hands was the primer for Force Sense and with but a quick glance over the others his hands grew filled with others. Primers on Force Sight, Deflection, Enhancement, Barrier and sustenance along side two journals containing observations on Tutaminis and Force Drain.
Then for good measure he retrieved tomes on Force Speed and on the first and third lightsaber forms. He poured over the tomes, reading and rereading, referencing and noting down on his own data pad. Using what little improvement of force sustenance to help him continue on long into the night,

Thus he built a pattern of nearly every day moving from training in the physical to pouring over the theoretical and mental long into the night. The more he understood and was able to put into practice the more his power and skill grew alongside it. When his understanding of force sense and sight grew to need resources and material outside his stations ability to access he moved on to force lightning and the fifth lightsaber form. Though after a few weeks of this he only saw progress with the more basics of the force abilities such as sustenance, barrier, deflection and enhancement along side his growth in the forms.

Still Tutaminis, Force Drain and Force Lightning eluded his grasp. Through meditation he fuelled his frustration at his lack of growth into passion for training what he could at the moment. Knowing his path to power might be slower than the average sith but he wanted power that endured and wouldn't fail him.
Through his life he had somehow already found his relationship with the force yet his time at the sith academy only reaffirmed it. The force was a trusted servant and advisor to him, not some tool to be grasped and wielded or some master to follow. He was in control and if the force whispered its advise to him he would take it under advisement but ultimately he was in control.

 

[Count Nergal]

Before he came to the academy he had very little experience with true anger. Upon introspection he now saw that what he'd perceived as anger before had in fact been simple childish frustration, nothing like the emotion now boiling his blood to the point he was almost shaking from rage.

"That is why I believe I can be of great help to you when I've graduated." The object of his rage spoke in its annoyingly thin and reedy voice sparking rather vivid imagery of ripping the young man's throat out just to make him stop talking. His training in the basic force disciplines had stalled of late and he already knew the cause, the annoying parasite that was Ham Borgin. He knew he really couldn't say anything regarding names but at least his father had the excuse of temporary madness and from a long line of eccentrics to fall back on. Ham just seemed loathed by his parents, a sentiment Nergal was vehemently agreeing to.

Taking a deep breath in and out to calm himself, he turned the faceplate of his mask to look at Ham. The first time he'd actually shown he was paying attention to the annoying pest over the last three weeks since it's decision to latch onto him. The slight flinch Ham displayed at the realization he had Nergal's full and undivided attention brought a slight sense of joy at finally managing to shut him up. "If you wish to... as you said form this mutually beneficial cooperation between us." He started in his smooth and deep baritone voice.
"Then I'm going to need more than something as vague as your word of unquestioning help once you've graduated." He enunciated his words with the quick slamming shut of the book in his hands, Ham jumped a little. Nergal smiled under the mask.

"I want a copy of every book in your families force related library section that cannot be found in the academies library." He said raising up one hand and his index finger. "IF I'm going to help you graduate I need something in return that's tangible and beneficial to me now. If you happen upon any interesting site or place that might hold some secrets others aren't aware of I would like to be informed." He then finished and Ham nodded his head before bolting off, most likely to gather the payment he'd asked for.

Nergal simply narrowed his vision on Ham's back as he ran out of the library, time would tell. Though before the time came he'd prepare and with his vision expanded again he focused as he reached out. Thankfully no one else was in the library this time except the librarian which didn't mind what he did. Slowly he reached out with the force and one by one pulled out more primers this time on Telekinesis, Force Stasis, Animal bond and sound mimicry alongside those on the second and sixth lightsaber forms. Journals on Areokinesis, cryokinesis, pyrokinesis, electrokinesis and teleportation simply so that it might grant him more insight into the usages of the more basic telekinesis and the more advanced force stasis.
Instead of reading through them he instead used the scanner he had to scan the pages of the tomes as he'd done with most likely every book he had access to in the library. He'd realized there was a disconnect between the more basic force techniques and the more advanced ones. Like there was some key piece he needed to further his understanding to be able to grasp the more advanced techniques.

Unlike many nights before he didn't spend it in the library, moving out of the academy and to the private hangar he'd rented for his personal ship to be docked close by. Within enough storage to hold his growing collection of works he had scans off from the academy. His thirst for knowledge having been made clear with the instructors so he had thankfully received permission to scan what the beginner acolytes could have easy access to for his own library. A library he intended to dwarf the academies by far in the hopeful future now though he sought his private chambers aboard the ship for quiet introspection.

 

[Count Nergal]

His body screamed as the muscles almost tore from the effort they'd been put through. The thin robes around his body and stifling mask causing his usually rather well developed stamina to turn to something just slightly ahead of the average students in his group. A position he only managed to reach through rigorous application of Force sustenance to aid his body in taking in more oxygen than his mask allowed him.
A distant part of his mind making a note to send a request back home on further development on his mask. Increasing intake to match what the user could physically inhale while still filtering the air for contaminants wasn't something easy to develop but a mask that would do that and allow him to breathe normally would be something better to have in the long run. Now wearing his mask would serve as a sort of elevation training to further strengthen his respiratory system along with Force sustenance.

He drew his eyes over the others, all huffing and panting from the near twenty kilometre run they had to go through which had turned into an obstacle course about a third into it. He noted the sadistic gleam coupled with disdain from the old veteran that was their instructor this time, a petty man. Clearly more interested in making himself seem like he'd been the best at his academy days and his opponents weren't even half as good as the students he had now. Well seeming big and being feared.
He had this punishment for waning performances or when someone lagged behind, this time however he was staring right at Nergal. A hateful sneer on his face.

Nergal didn't much like the man and he was sure the feeling was mutual from him. He'd tried to take Nergal's mask off, Nergal had broken his toe in response. It had been so easy, a simple application of the force and the already teetering heavy metal tool that just so happened to be right above the instructors foot at the time fell. Nergal had been careful after that, trying his best with small restrictions in place and the force to make up for it. It had allowed him a consistent performance of just a little better than the base average of the group.

"All right ten minute meditation then we pair you off in sparing matches." The instructor roared and much like every one else Nergal obliged. Feeling the force roil around himself, into his very being, replenishing what it could and soothing the aches as best it could. Then when the short break was over the group of students moved with the instructor, climbing the stairs that lead up the pillar that served as both single meditation chamber for each floor and rooftop sparring area. Nergal counted this one and counted six doors with one at each of the platforms that demarked each of the pillars floors.
Something wasn't adding up and he flooded himself with he force again as he slowed slightly with his split focus. The force was trying to warn him of something but he couldn't understand it until his slowed pace brought him to listen in on something he was sure he wasn't supposed to hear.

"So all I have to do is make sure he falls off?" A bassy voice asked.

"Yes, now that I've gotten what I need from him, I can't allow him to become a competitor in the future." Ham replied. This made Nergal halt and a frown began to grow under his mask as he listened further. "Just make sure that he is out of the picture ok." Ham finished then and walked out of the second to last floors meditation chamber to join with the other group. Behind him one of the two that childishly had called themselves sith berserkers of the group following behind and blending into the group as it ascended.
They called themselves berserkers but their large muscular builds really did allow them to live up to the name, not to mention that the first abilities the two had manifested had been Force Enhancement and Rage had only further solidified that name.
It didn't mean they were the only brutes in the group with two more firmly under the instructors sway a piece of information that became rather prominent in Nergals mind when he finally reached the top of the meditation pillar. The instructor had only glimpsed at Nergal when he came up the stairs but he could have sworn he'd seen the man maliciously smiling.

With almost tensed muscles he took his place to sit at the edge of the ring in the middle of the pillar but still he felt the edge of the pillar behind him. There was no guard railing behind them and it made it as nerve wracking to be in the ring as on the outside of it. Specially if a fight got too heated and let's say one student is knocked out of the ring with enough force they just might go over the edge and if there so happened to be someone outside the ring they just might take the tumble over the edge with them.
He noted right as he sat down that Ham gave a smile and wave to one of the instructors brutes who derisively smiled and nodded back. It sent the cogs in Nergal's mind turning as more variables and specific types of motions in the force or actions taken he'd have to watch out for. There was no better place to develop paranoia than in a sith academy.

The sparring went on, students going in pairs as the others watched, neither stopping until the other yielded or was knocked out. In one of the matches the berserker Ham had spoken to went up against the brute he'd nodded to and Nergal leaned a little forwards in his seat. Slowly building up a force barrier around himself just in case though trying to weave it slowly and as unnoticeably as he could.
The two brutish students came at one another with roars, the instructors brute using form 4 while the berserker appeared to use form 7. It was short, brutal and entirely outside Nergal's predictions when the brute overextended and the berserker, having fallen onto his back used the opportunity to vault the brute into the air. Conveniently sailing over Nergal and over the edge behind him, the haunting scream of primal fear sending icy claws running up Nergal's back.

The instructor was left enraged at loosing one of his selected possible apprentices and ended the lessons for that day. Though on his way back to the library afterwards Nergal was deep in thought. Evaluating the day's events and re-evaluating some of his peers after their performances over the day.

 

[Count Nergal]

He had been wrong, he could admit that now. Ham Borgin wasn't a parasite or at least not some simple simpering one. Ham's kind was the deadly kind that used up the being it was attached to and then got rid of it. However Ham had approached Nergal in an intellectual and court like manner. That could be taken he'd been approached as a peer though in a superior position at the time now he treated Nergal as an equal.

It had been a masterful stroke of manoeuvring after all. By convincing not only Nergal but also the late brute that belonged to the instructor to teach him, he'd improved by leaps and bounds. Owed mostly towards the brute who had naively been a lot more generous in sharing what he'd been taught and learned than Nergal had been. Who out of simple spite at first but now out of wariness had doled out simple sounding but ultimately deeper sounding advice on the very basics of what he could do and Ham had come to him to learn but ultimately had to give up some of what he'd learned in return for anything better. Nergal suspected it was this firm transactional relationship that had saved him from Ham's machinations.

After getting what he wanted from the brute he'd secretly taken in one of the berserkers and taught him what could help him with the image of berserker that he'd gone for. Along with how to bait and lead the brute to allow the accident that took his death to happen. Then through a series of revenge spars using lightsabers Ham had paved the way to become the only possible replacement for the instructors apprentice and got rid of both berserkers and the remaining brute by avenging the latter's death to get rid of the last of the former. All matches helpfully unknowingly co-orchestrated and poorly hidden by the Instructors wish for revenge.

However if there was one rather glaring flaw that Ham Borgin had then it would be hubris. He enjoyed showing the least of the acolytes in the group his newly grown power, most often in brutal way's. Those outside the Serrenian or any other noble court or some sort of backer had it the roughest. All spurned on by the instructor enjoying the sight of what he was moulding. It all seemed so damn petty and ultimately pointless.
All this revelling in such petty power gained through trickery being put to such simple brutal sadistic purpose without any perceived substance to it didn't so much disgust as disappoint Nergal. The Instructor and Ham purely subscribed to the philosophy of knowledge is power, forgetting to hide said power. The martial lessons taught to Ham put on full display during his demonstrations of power, unknowingly showing it all perfectly to Nergal due to the simple virtue of his sight in the force.

To catch up he needed greater skill and a powerful command of the force, something he diligently saw too in the ever increasing free periods of self training as the weeks went on. The very same meditation pillars providing ample privacy for meditations either moving or force fuelled. His mind settling into the foundation he'd finally settled upon, from study on force meditative techniques he had found one that he would study and perfect with time. Ham had introduced him to the ever burning power of rage that most sith tapped into for power but he'd also shown the most glaring weakness of rage to Nergal with that action.

Rage provided incredible power more so than Nergal had originally imagined it would as before he'd channelled frustration instead but in return it was more akin to a flooding stream that had half dried up before. However there was a cost, for at its base if simply used, it would provide more and more power the hotter and stronger rage was stoked but there was a point were reason would be used up to burn that fire. For Nergal that point came much too soon in his opinion, he only needed to look towards the late berserkers to see the side affects of allowing rage to burn even close to that limit till reason completely fled.
Through study he'd found techniques of force meditations that would help restructure a mind in such a way to turn the power usually used as a savage blunt instrument in the hands of the untrained into something else. Such as a more precise spear or dagger to rages usual blunt hammer.

That wasn't what Nergal wanted however and only recently he'd managed to get through the starting techniques and had begun to segment his mind slowly and carefully. What he was segmenting wasn't some part of his mind but rather his emotions, building walls and funnels around them that led to the furnace that was so often attributed to the dark side. This way he could feel them but ignore them as well, his mind would remain fully unaffected by his emotions while giving him enough control to use them. To feed them to the furnace at his core, to burn as kindling for ever greater power.
So many attributed the furnace to the dark side but Nergal didn't believe that, no the furnace was always there in any force user that knew how to use their emotions as kindling. No, no the true path to the dark was far simpler yet so oft overlooked in his opinion. It was that near blind state were emotion and their power fuels the user to the point of the true fall as it were, when reason almost flees and the user performs an act that would stain them with the dark.

So many attributed the force as some omniscient sort of semi-consciousness split between its darker and more benevolent spectrums. It was far from it, the force was a fully conscious entity split between creation and destruction as Nergal understood it. Neither half in full control as while some might think the light side having ascendance would benefit all it would eventually smother them and out of sheer necessity for existence to continue it seeks a balance between the two.
The force was clever and cunning yet most often in the most simplest ways, though also the most overlooked as well. So too was the dark side, it was a simple offer after all, come to the dark side for the power it will give you but the possible consequences of that choice? Now there lay the simple and yet clever deception, power corrupts in the end. It's just a question of how.

 

[Count Nergal]

This time he'd been right, by doling out bits and pieces much akin to what the ancient sith lords did to their own apprentices, he'd been able to stay alive by being useful. By using excuses such as needing Ham to meditate on philosophical ideas, which he'd learned would only go in circles unless the subject pondering was clever with outside the box thinking, to keep him coming back for more. Leaving himself just valuable enough to keep around yet also playing the slightly above mediocre achiever to lessen the threat he posed.
Ham wasn't an outside the box thinker, no his cleverness almost seemed manufactured now. He'd grown brutal to the point that the weaker half of the group excused themselves even before any sparring could occur when it came to facing against Ham. The first time Ham had really cut loose on what the instructor was turning him into the rest of the group had seen it. The haughty noble swagger and mannered behaviour falling away to reveal the savage and sadistic brute that hid beneath.

Nergal suspected the instructor was doing it on purpose, a bit of inward appearance irony or some other useless sentiment from his point of view. The instructor did seem just that petty of a man, Ham while not overtly as talented as the top third of the class in raw talent he would have served well. If his sense of duty had been properly twisted in his head, it would have benefited the sith as a whole but once more the ugly self-destructive side of the sith reared itself. The instructor was a fool that had been granted power and station outside his scope of competence.
It had been the whole reason he'd gone to the sith in the beginning, they supplied positions to competent people. Weather force sensitive or not, they did in the end use talent but at the same time there would always be some that slipped through the cracks. The only problem with that, was that the foundation of the empire the sith had been built upon, held many cracks.

Though Nergal supposed that was the nature of the beast that was an empire. There would always be a demand for talent and competence but far, far too many positions to fill with those far too few that met those criteria. Once again he had to remind himself that his particular view of the lack of the sanctity of life and apathy towards what many might describe as highly unethical though only theoretical behavioural alteration experiments wasn't normal. No matter how nicely it was framed as a what if question.

A chill night breeze made him flinch as it managed to permeate through the thin robes he wore. It was considered summer in the area the academy was placed in now and the occasional chill breezes were welcome during night time. However the flinch also reoriented his mind back on his conundrum of Ham Borgin. His training was highly physical, with skill with form seven the spear head of his offense. Followed by enhancement of his own body, force rage and surprisingly a force bellow that didn't rip his throat out with each use. Though he'd taken to wearing a bacta infused flexible neck sprain to off set the damage pre-emptively, or so Ham said.
It all came down into a the horrifying blend that made Ham a semi-competent duellist though his specialization made it hard to counter the avalanche of rage, hatred and the glowing red of his lightsaber that was his starting offence of choice for most if not all at a similar skill level. Someone's such as Nergal himself.

He'd started out like most with the first form, Shii-cho, moving on to the third, Soresu, for its steadfast and unbreakable defence once mastered. Now he displayed the unusual blend of a defence with the occasional unpredictable strike when given room enough to breathe and strike back. Of course that was what he showed the others, improving slowly with that method along with the group, all the while training in other disciplines of the forms.

His current blended type of form was built around the fifth form Djem-so, though taking in lessons and possible additions from the sixth of Niman and the second of Makashi. Moulding the fifth forms solid defensive blocks, deflections and parries with the following strong counterattacks and ripostes further. Adding to it the elegant precision and quickness of Makashi, utilizing a lesson of bringing a hammer down with the precision needed for a scalpel to provide results.
Niman on the other hand being already a product of the other five forms that came before it was slightly easier to incorporate elements from. Its approach with careful balance between offense and defence with a leaning to the latter following much along similar lines of Djem-so the needed element that synched this new form was the ability to integrate force techniques and abilities even in combat.

He looked down at his hands, shaking from exhaustion and obvious weakness, how long had he been up here? His moving meditation of observing every single motion he made to refine the movements as needed causing him to loose track of time. He still felt it though, the way the body was burning from the workout, aligning itself to perform not only the old but also the hitherto hidden form he trained in. He knew that lightsaber combat wasn't always the forte or even passion of a force user and despite the fact it was inherently the weapon of force users many didn't use it.
There were records and stories of those that used blasters and other weapons, there had even been a record of one sith berserker using a laser axe as his weapon of choice. Though he knew he was one of those that was more drawn to the lightsaber, he thought perhaps the standard hilt wasn't the one for him. Much like the myriad of weapons used so too was a variety of hilt styles or even supposedly material components that made up a lightsaber. Curved, maglocked, staff, double-bladed and tonfa configurations of hilts came to mind to only name a few of the top of his head.

Yet none of them spoke to him, not like it had to the acolyte who had thought he was secretly constructing his own lightsaber in the room next door. The look on his face when they'd been handed these standard issue type sabers had been an enjoyable little moment of schadenfreude it hadn't diminished how the force had sung to the acolyte when he'd finished his own. It had somehow felt like the two had resonated with one another. It left him with questions and quickly compiling ideas being scrapped equally as fast as he drunkenly stumbled back to his own room in the academy dorms. A free weekend leaving him almost alone as the group of mostly Serrenian nobility had headed home to their own estates during it. Allowing him to dazedly drag himself to bed in the middle of the night closer to morning than it should and without worry for some horrible excuse for training from the instructors for sleeping in a little the next day.

 

[Count Nergal]

"Wh-what?" The acolyte squeaked as Nergal's hand tightened around his throat, his hand having shot out like a snake to snatch the acolyte as he'd creped up behind him. Slowly turning his mask to face the acolyte to make him know he'd gained his attention, the limp arm that had been holding the vibroknife a clear indication to the unfortunate acolyte that at the moment getting Nergal's attention wasn't a good idea. "What are you going to do?" The acolyte managed to ask with his free hand trying to loosen the near durasteel grip on his throat.

"Oh that is very simple." Nergal answered, his usually calm and collected, deep baritone voice suddenly laced with hitherto hidden malice. "I've been attacked by an animal." He said and the acolyte's eyes stared at his mask before looking around. Noticing the vibroknife float up into Nergals outstretched free hand. "And I intend to put it down like one." He then finished and right as the realization sank in and the acolyte was about to scream he felt the knife sink into his abdomen. The vibrations of the blade felt through his body but as the scream was about to be let out a firm hand gripped around his mouth and he felt the tell-tale tingling that told him of someone using the force.

"Shhhh." Nergal soothed. "I made sure this won't debilitate you now use your eyes to answer me and I'll let you go without further harm. Lie and I'll carve out your kidney's." His tone once more that deadly calm as before with one long blink for yes and two short blinks for no he began to ask his questions.

"Did Ham put you up to this?" He asked, one long blink in response. "Did he say he'd kill you for failing?" Another long blink. Considering how the acolyte was shivering Nergal figured he was feeling the full weight of his gaze and sense of the force being almost exclusively focused upon the acolyte. "Are you the only one?" Another long blink.
He sighed and the acolyte began to scream into the hand muffling him more than it should with a little force constriction of the acolyte's vocal cords.

When the wet splat of the acolyte's kidney falling on the ground was heard the acolyte was a sobbing wreck. "How many?" He asked again and got two long blinks. "Are you included in that count?" Two short blinks. "Thank you." Nergal then finished and rammed the vibroknife straight into the acolyte's brain. He twitched once and then went limp.

With a disinterested nudge of his leg he pushed the acolyte down into the ravine he'd been asked to meet this acolyte at under the pretence of the possibility of getting a kyber crystal. A soft chuckle came from his throat as he extended his sight once more to its full capability and noticed the two other acolytes. Ham had underestimated him rather severely it seemed. He knew the three acolytes that Ham used as his lackeys this time, they were the top of the lower half of their group. The strongest of the ones that didn't have the guts to fight Ham at all but the instructors had forced to attend after only two absences. Using Ham as a punishment for the students not showing dedication or were simply too weak. Three had already died to Ham's demonstrations, prolonged to the point they were simply bloody blubbering messes before finally ended.

He didn't say a word as he looked down the ravine he'd thrown the first down, using the force to retrieve the vibroknife again. One decided to be too eager and attempted to drop kick Nergal off the ledge and down into the ravine. Quite frankly this particular acolyte was an idiot so all it took to get rid of him was to take a step to the side once his momentum would carry him off the ledge. The other saw this and hesitated, opening himself up to a force assisted throw of the vibroknife.
With the knife embedded in his shoulder the acolyte didn't even have the presence of mind to defend himself from someone using the force upon him. With a quick jank of telekinetic power the second acolyte stumbled forwards allowing Nergal to move in and tear the unfocused and in pain acolyte apart.

The last fell over the edge while Nergal sat down at the edge, his leg dangling over it as he held the only prize he'd gained through this particular attempt on his life. Granted it was the first one Ham had made on him but there had been one or two of the Serrenian nobility among the acolytes that had tried, with better results when he thought of it. Feeling at the scar running along his clavicle when one of them had used a damn trandoshian to try and get rid of him. Granted it was clear the trandoshian had some experience but hardly what one would call an experienced bounty hunter.
He shook his head and looked at the prize in his hand, a kyber crystal of deep green. He was about to make it bleed to make his own lightsaber but then he noticed the fracture inside the crystal through the force. He sucked on his teeth in annoyance as the crystal looked perfectly fine to use but due to the fracture it would just break or worse if used in a lightsaber. "So much for a profitable trip." He grumbled.

 

[Count Nergal]

It had been almost two months now since Ham had tried to get rid of him but oddly enough he'd only tried once. That only made Nergal more wary of the young man. Instead he'd gone over recordings of how Ham fought and reading up on the different styles to get a more academic mastery over them. Training himself against training droids to master his own styles further and further, his emphasis wasn't on some sweeping strength and brutality as many of his peers did. He was more interested in control, finesse, precision and mastery. How would strength or speed benefit him if his opponent had the same level of mastery as him and could bring more raw strength to bear than he ever could.
Ham's growth had shown him to be fully on the path of a brutal barbaric beast, all attack or grapples to hold his enemy down. His strength fuelled by the force and his near insane rage at this point making him the most physical of all the students. That was his flaw though, he was like a weapon just aim him and he'd attack until either he or his enemy died. It made Ham slightly more predictable than the rest of the students but also more dangerous at the same time.

"Peace is a lie, 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." He recited as he meditated before the next class was to start. Then he continued with his own mantra that he'd begun to live by. "From Wisdom flows control, from control, strength, from strength, victory." He leaned his head back and breathed deeply for a few very long moments as he felt himself sink into the forces embrace. It was comfortable, like the warm blanket followed by the embrace of a loving parent after coming in from a cold winters day. Then he took the reigns and funnelled the force into the top of his head and from there into his cardio vascular system, allowing it to flow with his blood into the rest of his entire being as he built the foundation brick by metaphorical brick. When he stood he felt it more clearly than ever, like a gift from the force of what he might become.

His mind still, receptive, attentive, sharp and focused all at once with his emotions flowing through his mind as if it was a ghost. Allowing him to take note of them but they would only influence him as much as he wanted them too. Another deep breath simply for the sake of it and he calmly made his way to the top of the meditation towers were the instructor so often loved to hold the sparring matches. When he arrived he noted he was among the last which was unusual just as unusual as the looks he was getting. It normally would raise his hackles but now he simply acknowledged it while continuing to observe every one on top of the tower.
Ham had a feral sneer on his face as he started at Nergal's back which only made him smirk a little under his mask, the boy wasn't one to remember anything did he?

"We will begin with Acolyte Nergal and Acolyte Borgin!" The instructor declared when every student had finally arrived and taken their place on the outlined edge of the tower. While Ham seemed eager, like a hound at the end of its leash still wanting at his prey, Nergal was calm and collected. They squared off and then raised their training sabers before the Instructor stopped them once more. "This time we will be using live weapons!" He continued and with a wave of his hand moved two lightsabers to their hands, each activated with their tell-tale snap hiss with the following thrum.

Now this was new. While the other acolytes were rather dismayed and seemed about to object to it Nergal noted how eager Ham was. He stared at the saber in his hands like an arsonist would a fire and it made Nergal disgusted, this wasn't a sith. This was a fucking animal raised by a sadistic idiot of an Instructor not a sith. With a starting position of form 3 Nergal had barely a second before Ham exploded forth like the rabid animal he was.
He was all attack, no real finesse with his blade but still enough not to cut his own head off, which was a bit surprising for Nergal to see. Were it was clear that Ham had focused simply on mastering the saber to prevent himself from hurting himself Nergal had focused on form and flow.

He learned quite quickly after the first few exchanges that he couldn't just block Ham's strikes head on, instead he had to let them slide to the side or redirecting the strikes away from himself. Both acolytes robes getting singed or cut through when one dodged or the other missed a counter attack.
The exchanges leaving Ham panting with bloodshot eyes looking much more animal than before while the only sign of Nergal's exertion was the deep expanding and compressing of his chest as he took slow but deep breaths. "You're Karking weak!" Ham snarled as the force began spiral around him, Nergal began to circle around him getting into position.

As the snarling animal rushed at him, he didn't notice that behind Nergal was the instructor. With a jump that unfortunately left a graze from Ham's saber on his thigh Nergal managed to dodge. The Instructor not so much as he could only manage a single surprised scream as the saber came hammering down on him to silence him for the last time.
Hams shocked distraction allowing Nergal to move in and slice at Ham's thighs and biceps to take away the use of his limbs. The acolyte falling to the ground screaming in pain before Nergal's boot on his throat silenced him. "Ham do you know what you just did?" Nergal asked his calm tone tinged a bit with amusement at the twin burning suns of pure hate that Ham's eyes were. "You've slain an instructor of the academy because you are nothing more than a rabid animal and such animals..." Nergal paused a bit as he turned his saber off and with a flick of the force brought Ham's own up to rest on top of ham's forehead.

Giving voice to his rage Ham started to scream incoherently fully turning into a savage animal in his impotent rage yet every other acolyte on top of the tower heard the calm almost whisper Nergal said before with a slight twitch of his finger he activated Ham's saber point blank against his forehead. "You put such animals down." Then as the silence permeated the entire tower top Nergal simple looked down at his victim. His body ached and he was battered much more than he'd ever have thought Ham's savage yet simple style should have been able too. Still feeling the grazes on his body leaving him to even smell his slightly cooked flesh and singed robes. Then he turned his mask to make each and every acolyte on top of the tower see him looking at them all. "Anyone here care to dispute my victory?" He asked with such menace that he saw some acolytes flinch from the wave of power he'd forced out of himself. Then he walked off the tower and with the force helping him along he barely managed to make it to the infirmary to be healed. Content knowing he'd be allowed to do as he wished and unbothered by the others for the remainder of his stay at the academy.

(End of story or thread)