One Sith, Two Sith

Rasputin

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Korriban. This was the homeworld of the ancient Sith. In modern times, Sith weren't born--they were made. Sith of today were forged in the heat of Korriban. Those who survived Korriban went on to become great conquerors, wielders of unfathomable power. Those who perished where long forgotten and disgraced. Every acolyte dreamed of becoming Sith. However, few made it out of the Academy. Its main purpose was to weed out those unworthy of the Sith. It did its job beautifully.

Cassus Jansen would walk through the long, dark corridors of the ancient Sith Academy. His cloak was raised, keeping his face out of sight unless he decreed otherwise. Cassus was an utter mystery in the Sith. Most did not know of his origins, his motives, or even if he was truly what he claimed to be. You could never predict what he was going to do. This ignorance inspired fear from many acolytes and even Sith overseers.

As the cloaked acolyte would wander through the long, maze-like halls, he would turn his golden-bloodshot eyes toward the walls of the corridor. You could literally see the blood stains of acolytes who perished in this very Academy. Most Sith wouldn't bat an eye if an acolyte happened to die--it was a common occurrence and was to be expected. Most Sith would laugh if you didn't expect it.
 
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Zabić came to Korriban months ago at her dying mentor's wish. It was spoken as if he almost expected she would need to escape some unavoidable calamity. And he would be correct, as he would have firsthand knowledge in it. To learn of the Force on Korriban is something she wished she had done a long time ago. She had already begun to study many skills in the Art of the Force. The man who presented himself to become her Master, is nothing other than an astounding Warrior. There is rumor he will someday be promoted to Battle Master. Zabić would be lying if she said she didn't worry wether or not he would still be inclined to teach her after taking on such a responsibility, so she practiced long and hard hours. And the Juggernaut always discovers her error and knocks her down to size.

She has met many Acolytes who roam these halls in classes held here. What she really thirsts for are the Missions. Having been accepted into STARS is a great honor. She will meet many Masters and hopefully pick up any of their different skill sets and philosophies.

Zabić is the attentive type. She stood with her back against the wall in the corridor across from a door, as she watched others pass her by observant of them. Her class doesn't begun until a while from now. She was playing with a little spark of Lightning which she generated, practicing her control trying not to actually look down at it in her hands.
 
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Rasputin

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The cloaked Sith would continue walking among the halls until he reached his desired location, the Sith archives. It was a rather fascinating place. This very library was used by Sith Lords from the Old Sith Empire several millennia ago. It was a place he frequently ventured in the time he tended to his studies. Taking a holobook out of his satchel, he would put it in its place in the wall. His business was done here. Cassus would turn to leave, thinking about what he had to do next. His studies were completed for the time being and he didn't have any lessons to attend to currently. It would occur to him that he had free time.

Usually Cassus would spend his free time reading literature or doing extra studying. After all, how else was he going to spend his time productively. As he wandered through the halls, his mind grew thinking on other matters. He had been aspiring to go on more assignments for the Sith to sharpen his skills and improve his prestige. Of course, not many Sith would trust lowly acolytes with anything important. After all, they weren't true Sith.

As he walked down the corridor, he noticed a girl playing around with her lightning. This caught Cassus' curiosity. It was rare for beginner acolytes or hopefuls to be capable of producing even a spark of lightning. Her lightning wasn't truly impressive, but if she was able to produce it in any form, she must have some experience. However, Cassus didn't ponder on it. Whoever she was, she wasn't worth spending to much time thinking about.
 

Elijah Brockway

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Hot, dusty, dry, thoroughly inhospitable...

All those described Jaron's thoughts on the planet he currently found himself at. Korriban. A far cry from the lush, verdant jungles of Yavin IV, yet a not entirely unwonted change; while there were things he could learn on Yavin IV that he couldn't learn at Korriban, there were just as many things at Korriban that the Keshiri acolyte could not learn on Yavin IV. And so Jaron had left Lord Weiss's temple on the jungle moon, coming instead to peruse the archives - and classes - to be found on the homeworld of the Sith.

One thing he had not expected - and now he found it rather foolish, as he'd been warned of it - was how openly competitive various of the acolytes would be. Yes, Jaron knew there was always a drive to be the best, and he knew one had to embrace it; after all, he did the same. Still, moving from the small classes and one-on-one training he had been in before into this world of predatory scheming, this paranoia-inducing temple, was not something he had particularly been looking forward to.

But as with every challenge, it would help him grow. And if he could not grow, then he would die; and if he died, he did not deserve to be a Sith. So went the order of things.

But now Jaron had something to attend to. When he had free time, away from his training and classes, and when he wasn't perusing for missions to take part in, he studied the Sith - specific Lords, various iterations of the order, the multitudinous histories compiled, the numerous powers developed and used by the Sith, such things as that - and to do that, he needed to go to the archives. So he strode through the halls, his lightsaber hanging concealed within his robes; outwardly viewed was the cortosis-weave vibrosword that had so long been his companion. While some others viewed it as a matter of pride to make sure that the signature weapon of their order - and, of course, their enemies - was displayed for others to see, a visible sign of power, Jaron thought it smarter to conceal it. Surprise was a wonderful weapon.

And he was slightly surprised to see a familiar face in the halls, playing with a spark of lightning between her hands. It was possible she had learned to use it from her master...or from one of the many classes that Lord Weiss had been having back on Yavin. With a slightly amused smile, Jaron - ignoring the other acolyte in the hall, as he had no knowledge of that one - Jaron walked over near the girl.

"Where'd you learn that little trick?" he asked quietly, stopping for a moment. He had time enough for a short conversation, after all - the archives weren't going to move.
 

Rasputin

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Cassus would look behind him as the two acolytes would engage in conversation. It was clear that they were quite familiar. Dare he say, friendly. Sith are not generally ones to be considered friendly. Cassus was never a fan of the concept of friendship. Friendship encouraged trust, and trust is a luxury the Sith do not possess.

Letting out a scoff, the hooded acolyte would turn to the conversing Sith. He would look up at them, revealing his pale face and gleaming eyes. His eyes glowed with a spark that made you think he was either a genius or a lunatic.

"Most certainly not among the halls of nitwits and lackeys." His voice was so cold it turned this scorching hallway into a freezer. "Not many demonstrate the ability to produce lightning this early on. Impressive."
 

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Zabić smiled at Jaron. They had been introduced in the little dive bar of Dreshdae, where she lives upstairs. To put it lightly, the evening was not boring. The two had stopped a brawl, after they got bored with it, that is.

Zabić looked at the stranger as he interrupted her reply, but she did respond first to Jaron. "Lord Weiss!" Zabić stated exuberantly. "Master Ty'Laun didn't want to risk losing most of his hair on account of teaching me this," she finished whispering, in case the Juggernaut was nearby.

She then looked at the newcomer once again and stated, "Korriban is far more energized a planet than most Acolytes are capable of handling. That's why our temple is here. Most people aren't going to make the cut. They'll first go crazy, I think. And in my opinion, they ought to be less obsessed with dying. A little confidence and a load of respect will get one anywhere the Force can't take them. And thanks, by the way. It's been a whole darn week, and this is all I got to show for it. But I am not about to let Lightning grow crazy from my hands. I've been warned against it. I'm going to control it, or not produce it at all."
 

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"From Lord Weiss, I figured," Jaron said, smiling slightly. "I'm just taking a break from some training with him myself - assuming, of course, he decides to take me back." He shrugged, before turning to the other Acolyte walking the halls.

Boy, did he sound bitter and angry.

"And just which category do you fall under?" the Keshiri asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you a nitwit or a lackey?"
 

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Cassus would raise an eyebrow at the girl. It was almost shocking to hear those words come out of her mouth. It's not everyday you hear Sith talking about self-control and conservation. let alone acolytes. It was rather humorous and genuinely made him laugh.

"Self-discipline among the Academy?" he scoffed, "If you gave most acolytes even a taste of power, they'd think they were the Emperor himself."

He would turn to the alien and his sarcastic tone turned humorless.

"You can make the assumption for yourself," he replied coldly. "But it doesn't matter to me. I'm just another faceless acolyte trying to carve a path as a Sith."
 
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"Did you ever try to see through his Illusion? It just makes it worse!" she told Jaron.

"That's the error of thinking right there," Zabić said the the kid who seemed amused. She sees it everywhere she looks. "Its not your power. Its not my power. We are all tapping into what everyone else can get to. It is about the ability you have to control what is already there." She had seen it far too many times, "The Acolytes who think they are the power or have the power, I don't see any of the Masters swooping down out of nowhere to claim them. Because those higher up in the ranks don't have time to teach the basic philosophies. Those you just gotta figure out for yourself. They aren't in any of your books for a reason." Master Ty'Laun had granted to hint to her further that the Force is not you weapon either, rather you are the weapon and the Force is merely your tool. It was eye opening to her.

But then there were other Masters who were just crazy, but none of them ever made Lord or Battle Master.
 

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"Wise words, Zabić," Jaron said, nodding in regards to what she was telling the other 'faceless acolyte.' Jaron had heard various similar pieces of advice when training with Lord Weiss, or one of the Crusaders, Brelin Niko. Just more proof that like minds think alike, and most of those who actually advanced through the ranks of the Sith, were of like mind in at least a few respects.

But, for now, he didn't necessarily have time to think on what those various Crusaders and Masters were like; for now, he had something slightly more important. Dropping one hand down near the hilt of his sword, he turned to Cassus, amusement starting to colour his tone, counterplay to the other acolyte's cold one.

"Perhaps you are neither, and yet something else," the Keshiri began, one of his eyebrows raising again - though whether his expression was mocking or genuinely interested, he figured Cassus would easily figure out. "Regardless of what you are, you would do well both to listen to our colleague here, as what she's telling you is true, and to grow a better sense of humour." His expression shifted to one more normal, then, his tone shifting as well.

"Ah, but we haven't made the proper introductions, now have we. I'm Jaron; so nice to meet you, acolyte...?"
 

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"Most refer to me as...Cassus," he answered simply.

He looked over at the young acolyte, Zabic, an eyebrow raised.

"You speak wisely," said Cassus, "You speak truth. The Force is a tool: a tool to be used."
 

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Jaron was chatty and jovial as usual. He never shied away from people or situations. Someday, he might just joke around with the wrong Acolyte, she thought. But with Weiss as his teacher, she knew she wouldn't need to worry. Jaron was easy to get to know. And Zabić felt him genuine enough, that she can trust him.

And it was just a matter of moments before Jaron had the Acolyte who tried to appear cold, relaying his name. A few drinks into him, she wondered if he too would crack a smile. But Zabić was living from earnings to earnings, trying to recoup the funds she had lost acquiring a Phrik for her Master's armor. She hasn't had a drink in weeks.

"Mine's Zabić," she announced.
 

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"Well met, then, Cassus," Jaron said, bringing his hand up away from his sword hilt. "And, despite the rocky start, I imagine that at some point we'll be able to interact with a modicum of familiarity, won't we?" Jaron turned, slightly, looking to a chronometer on the wall nearby. Hmm, the archives would start to fill up, soon, if he didn't make his way down there just then.

"Well, I need to go to the archives quickly - before they fill with those who Cassus so intuitively described as nitwits and lackeys. Do either of you care to join me? I need only to grab a single record, and then I'm free for a while."
 

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Cassus would let out a chuckle. "Wouldn't bother relying too heavily on those records. Real knowledge is something only attainable from a master or from experiences. Do what you will, though." He would turn slightly, his face now hidden in a silhouette.

"I have a feeling this will be the start of a beautiful friendship," he stated, smiling. He appeared genuine, although inside he was holding different motivations. If not for his pale skin and golden eyes tainted by the Dark Side, he would've been a rather handsome man.
 
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"Yeah. Jaron it is rare that I find anything documented so fully that I can get stuff right off the bat. Some things I found to have too much riddle in it. Our ancestors seem to want to be evasive, and to sound intelligent in all that. Maybe the fact that such things only aggravate me is the emotion behind being able to finally unlock and accomplish such skills in the first place."

But this new kid raised alarm bells in her head. She didn't get the attention of her Master by being like everybody else.

"But Jaron, my class door is right there." At that Zabić threw out a short burst of a Lightning strike across the way. It left a tiny burn mark on it. "I don't like missing my classes, more than the Masters don't like me to miss them." The lessons she gets for doing so, is always much tougher to survive. Zabić doesn't fool around in the Temple. What she does on her free time, isn't an issue though, and that is good!
 

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Cassus' smile turned wicked as he turned back to Zabic and Jaron. "Lessons only get you so far." He would slowly step closer as his boots clicked with every step.

"True gain can only happen when you go above and beyond," he began, "Boot-licking is something many acolytes choose to do. However, the Sith want more. Those who don't follow every order mindlessly--those who think--are often seen as the most dangerous."
 

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"I've found the wisdom of the ancients rather useful in my studies," Jaron said, shrugging. "Don't forget how Darth Bane learned from their records, after all; and look at what he managed." The Keshiri shook his head. Darth Bane - often called the Sith'ari - had destroyed the Sith, and reforged them; and eventually, his method, his plan, won out - if only for a short while. But that was likely due just as much, more even, to those who came after him, and not the Dark Lord himself.

And then Cassus spoke again. Jaron turned, watching the play of the man's features, his posture, everything, and frowned. And the words themselves did nothing to help the misgivings he felt looking at the man.

"That's obvious," Jaron drawled, after a moment. "But don't forget that most of the Masters give orders that make sense, and those that think can recognize that. Yes, boot-licking and blind obedience are frowned upon...but loyalty, to the cause if not to any specific person, is encouraged. And if the order is a good one, follow it." Jaron smiled, then, as well. But it was about as mirthless as the one Cassus now sported.

"Of course, this must all be an old lesson for you, correct? I don't see any point in conversing over that subject specifically, unless there is some point you have yet to make."
 

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"Actually, I do hold a point," Cassus uttered. He would slowly pace around the two acolytes, building up suspense with each of his steps.

He would stop being Jaron, hissing in his ear, almost a whisper. "If you are so indulged in the history of the Sith, you must be aware of the Sith Lord Darth Malgus, I presume."
 

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"And which of us is not?" Jaron replied, his tone neutral. He held himself relaxed, his posture nigh perfect, as though he hung from a string, barely touching the ground. The perfect position from which to spring into any number of offensive or defensive maneuvers, with or without his blade, and he figured that Cassus would likely know this; any acolyte with combat training should notice it.

"Regardless, you say you have a point; now quit with your melodramatics and speak. You aren't a Master yet, nor even a Crusader, and your bumbling attempts to create a measure of suspense or such other equivalent feeling serve only to make you look foolish."
 

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Zabić on the other hand had a different approach. She just laughed. She trusts her Master with her life. Only an idiot wouldn't want to be molded into his image! "As for not following orders, there's the death sentence for that. Enjoy it," she retorted quickly and coldly.

The funny part was that the unknown Acolyte was an open book when it came to trustworthiness, that being specifically she doesn't consider him trustworthy at all. He was an icon of every trait of those who think so highly of themselves that they wouldn't see their own undoing while it plays out before them. She sighed in her disgust, irked. It shown upon her face.

"Boot licking; huh?" she repeated with a sneer. "Let me guess..." she said taking a step of her own closer to the other boy. Her eyes lost their prior luster and glazed over as she narrowed them to look upon him. The raw energy of the Lightning she played with moments ago, now prepared to become anything she bid. His approach, as well as his insult she deemed threatening. "You consider yourself dangerous. Tell me how that's anything unique?"

The boy circled them. She used Force Sight to see him and what power he walked in, when he whispered to Jaron...
 
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