- Joined
- Aug 10, 2009
- Messages
- 2,528
- Reaction score
- 55
The eternal storm raged in the heavens above. Lightning crossed the bruised sky with the intensity of stars, thunder rolling across the horizon in its wake as if the Gods were rumbling their approval at the scene before them. It was a terrible display of the power of nature, and to the thinkers of the world a fitting metaphor for the helplessness of all things living in the face of the elements.
Those thinkers would be mistaken, should they come to that conclusion.
There were few who could contend with the holy fury of Mother Nature herself. They were exceptional people, those who's actions shaped the futures of all. Throughout history their kind have existed, forging legends and songs and religions for the lesser people, those who cannot summon enough light or shadow to make their mark upon anything. Those were the unworthies that Lecchamemnon had no time for, even though he ultimately fought his selfish counterparts in their name.
People like himself were so very uncommon. It was his guess that there was less than one person of note for every planet in the Galaxy, and yet here on this very world there was perhaps one other who was worthy of song. One more man capable of bending the fabric of reality to his will... Something new for the masses to fear.
Darth Oseth.
The Sith Lord was the man responsible for the creation of Andreus Makaryk, a Jedi padawan under Lecchamemnon's tutelage. Sith Alchemy had spawned the boy, a power so abominable that the Loremaster was secretly still pondering whether Andreus was safe to be left alive, let alone allowed to remain a Jedi. One side of him argued that the boy was too dangerous to cast away from the structure of the Jedi life, that now more than ever he needed to be surrounded by the light of the Jedi. The other reasoned that he was simply too dangerous to have within any temple, that he posed a massive risk to everyone he was near. One small part of this half of his mind quietly thought that Makaryk was just too dangerous to even be left alive...
That the boy had surrendered his information willingly (remarkably willingly, given the situation) was important in his consideration. It showed that he was not lost, despite the stuff from which he was made. It weighted his thoughts towards the more merciful of choices... Although Andreus' fate was still very much in the balance. The Loremaster had thinking to do, and that was why he was here. Here for Oseth.
Oseth had answers to his questions, and he would give them before the Kaminoan sun set. Lecchamemnon knew this for a fact, just as he knew that no method was below him when it came to interrogating or capturing, or even killing a Sith. Together he and Oseth would figure out the Makaryk Conundrum one way or another... And so one way or another would this distraction in Lecchamemnon's work be ended. War had not even broken out yet, he did not yet have the time for conflict. He still had preparations to make.
He left Sable in the downpour on a circular landing pad. There she would wait for him and his charge as she so dutifully did each and every time. She knew her part in this, for it had been played many times before.
Always the same.
Now he waited in some unused storage room, meditating quietly. He sensed darkness... and this was good. The call of the Dark Side was strong this day, and Oseth could not be far from him. Knelt on the floor of a storage room Lecchamemnon felt a glimmer of what might have once been jubilation. It really had been too long.
Last edited by a moderator: