The following story is based off of my Creation Contest 7 entry.
I do not own on the Star Wars franchise.
A Sith is Born Formed
It has been thirteen years since the Treaty of Coruscant. In that time both the Jedi and the Sith have been locked in a Cold War. Three years ago a series of events--largely provoked by the empire--sparked a Second Great Galactic War. Though the Empire had been planning to challenge the Republic, repetitive trends of infighting amongst the Sith Lords inhibited them from successfully repelling the Republic’s forces. This resulted in the loss of several planetary strongholds, thus weakening the Empire’s influence over the galaxy. A consecutive string of victories for the Republic caused several Sith to question the effectiveness of the Dark Council. In fact, one of the most prominent Sith Lords, Darth Verudan had already set plans to dispose of the Council permanently. Along with his acolytes and several close colleagues, Verudan would finally restore order to the Empire...
3 ATC
Verudan first met his newest apprentice in a slaving outpost on the outskirts of Kaas City. Being that the boy was an orphaned slave, his masters felt that the effort of naming him would be trivial task. If any of the slaves were confused by their common name, the barbed whips had a habit of reminding them which ones were called. Though the slavers could not see beyond a frail child, Verudan sensed the boy’s presence from the walls of the city. The young slave was brimming with force sensitivity, even more than the Sith lord had possessed at that age. The term acolyte wouldn't begin to describe the rare gem he had found, fate had bestowed the Phantom Lord with a progeny he so desperately sought.
When Darth Verudan entered the slaver’s camp he immediately noticed the timid Zabrak crouched in a corner. The boy was small for his age and clearly malnourished. Despite his waifish appearance there was a strength exuding from his eyes that was paradoxically both mesmerizing and evanescent. Verudan grinned maliciously upon realizing that the slave could suppress his connection to the force. The Phantom Lord approached the boy. “You cannot fool a Sith." He lectured. "Tell me slave, why do you hide your power?”
He shook in terror and hesitated to speak before one of the slavers reached for a whip. The shock caused a brief stutter to hasten his glitched response. “I-if I become a s-s-Sith, I will be taken to another world." A brief pause repaired his ability to articulate. "I don’t want to leave my friends.”
Verudan nodded in understanding. The child was reminiscent of a young Eirik Eden so long ago. Hearing his old name in his head sounded foreign to the revered Lord of the Sith. It was a strange to think that a boy from Alderaan's, nobility shipping off to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant could have the same fears as an Imperial slave, fated to test his worth in the tombs of Korriban, but it was true nonetheless. “I see…" He chose his words carefully, almost as they were meant to reaffirm himself of a truth he learned long ago as much as they were meant to pass knowledge to the young mind standing before him."You think if you stay with your friends you can help them, but I’m afraid you’re actually dishonoring them.”
“Dis-dishonoring them?” The slave repeated in bewilderment.
“Whether you stay here or not, your friends are doomed to a life of subservience. Without the force they are blind and weak. As such, it falls on the strong to embrace the darkness and guide the lesser man's path. Deep down you know that you have a greater purpose than this—an opportunity that none of your other friends have—an opportunity that most would risk dying for. The power you possess will allow you to forge your own destiny. Under my tutelage you will be a Sith Lord and one day, perhaps even a Master.” The Sith Lord extended his hand and said “Join me!”
After taking Verudan’s words to heart, the child nodded his head. He grabbed his new master’s arm and began to walk out of the base. A slaver cautiously walked over to Verudan. “My Lord, this slave is too young to be sold!” He jittered, knowing both the strictness of labor camp laws and the risks of upsetting a Sith.
Verudan chuckled heartily, but it only magnified the Slaver's disease. The Phantom Lord was at his most terrifying when he acted calm. “What slave?” he asked, as he rose his palm over the Slaver’s head. “Neither this boy or I have ever been to this encampment. Any files you had on this Zabrak were just clerical errors. Understand?”
“Yes my lord!” The slaver quickly affirmed. The former slave gasped in awe of the mysticism he just witnessed. The Sith looked back at the boy without expression, underplaying his own brilliance. Even the most wary minds could be turned to clay at Verudan's whim. The freed child waved to his friends before begin his journey as a Sith’s acolyte.
As the two force-wielders traveled to the nearest spaceport Verudan asked, “Do you have any names I can call you besides slave?”
The Zabrak shrugged before deciding on his alias. “You can call me Zavron!”
Darth Verudan furrowed his brow at the oddity of the request. “The name of your slave settlement?" He briefly mused on the thought behind the name, sensing it to be indicative to his new disciple's personality. "Very well! Then let us take our leave young Zavron.”
7 ATC
By his 14th year, Zavron was trained in both the light and dark arts of the force. Though his thirst for knowledge was admirable, the true test of Zavron’s skills was yet to come. During a voyage to a distant star system, Darth Verudan led his pupil through the dangerous jungle world of Gamorr. It was there where the acolyte would face his trial by combat.
“I have taught you well Zavron, but there is still far more to learn. Before I can be certain you are worthy of inheriting my techniques, you must prove that you are strong enough to survive under the most vigorous conditions.”
“Of course my Lord,” Zavron replied. “Simply name my task and it shall be done.”
“He will not be giving you tasks. I will!” An anonymous voice declared. Just then a small group of armored men emerged from the tall grass. The squad knelt before a giant wall of armor stood before them. The large figure was coated in heavy metal, with large symbols painted in a jungle camouflague pattern and had limbs as thick as tree trunks. He unclasped his boulder-sized helmet in anticipation of his introduction. His green boar-like face was plastered with scars and his horns were chopped to nubs. To compensate, the Gamorrean filed his fangs into four sharp weapons that curled over his upper lip.
Verudan cleared his throat to help explain the situation to his student, “These men are Mandalorians and this is Nar’ Grashi. He has agreed to train you in the art of war. You will not return to me until he agrees that your training is complete. Do not use any force techniques other than healing until I return!”
With those final words Darth Verudan vanished from the planet, leaving Zavron at the mercy of Nar’ Grashi. For five years Zavron trained with the Mandalorians, learning to kill with almost any weapon. From the lush jungles of Gamorr to the frozen wastelands of Hoth, Zavron was trained to fight under the most unforgiving conditions, leading to his most important lesson: never surrender. Zavron fought bravely and eventually gained the the dreaded Nar’ Grashi’s respect. As he returned to his master, Verudan sensed that the Mandalorians had obliterated any fears that the boy once held. He was now ready for the final stage of his training.
Present Day
Following three additional years of training, Zavron was sent to Korriban for his final test as an apprentice. He was given the coordinates to a secret bunker that Verudan had built for his own solitude. Each room hid a piece of a tool he would have to assemble within the final chamber. Though the K’lor’slugs that guarded the chambers were deadly, they posed no real threat to an apprentice of Zavron’s skill level. With a few strikes from his training saber Zavron cleared each room with ease.
In the last room he noticed that there were no creatures to slay. Instead there was only an altar with sunlight shining upon it. The opening far above the altar combined with the red dust of Korriban’s geography made the long streak of sunrays look as if they were bleeding. Zavron approached the altar and laid each piece onto the forge. He closed his eyes and sat in a crossed leg pose to focus his mind. Using the force, he slowly levitated the pieces together to assemble a saberstaff. He dropped the weapon into his hands and left the altar.
As soon as Zavron moved his feet off of the tiles a weight trap was triggered and all exits to the chamber closed. The room quaked in tremors as the entire altar sank through the floor. When Zavron rose to his feet he saw three K’lor’Slug Broodmothers slivering towards him. He smirked with arrogance to the challenge. Thinking quickly, he cloaked himself in the force and lunged behind them, then he pierced one of the slugs through the back killing it instantly. The second broodmother charged at the apprentice as the third prepared to hurl its venom. Zavron used a mind control to trick the advancing broodmother into tackling the other K’lor’slug, forcing it to vomit its poison on the wrong target. The Sith apprentice channeled lightning into his saberstaff to dichotomize the last broodmother with a single strike. Black smears of vaporized blood stained the acolyte's profile, reassuring his complete victory. The Zabrak dusted himself off and strode back to his cruiser. Before entering the starship, the apprentice noticed an incoming message on his holocommunicator. Zavron answered the message as a small, blue hologram of his master greeted him. “How did it go? Did you procure what was needed?”
“Well…I’m not dead!” Zavron sarcastically replied. He raised his new weapon to the phantom to verify his triumph.
“Good! That would have made things boring. You’re going to need that new toy for your true test.” Verudan savored the look of frustration in his pupil’s eyes before pushing even further. “What? Did you really think I’d make it that easy on you?” He snickered. “Meet me at the place where your journey first began. I’ll be waiting!”
On Dromund Kaas
Zavron returned to the slave encampment to acquire his master’s acknowledgment of his progress, but instead he stumbled upon a truly horrific discovery. The entire camp was massacred, including the slavers, women, and children. Hundreds of dead bodies littered the field; each corps reeked of seared blood and cauterized flesh. Despite the many years spent away from the colony, Zavron remembered most of the victim’s faces. Darth Verudan emerged from his apprentice’s old tent and stared into the young man’s eyes. Tears welled from Zavron’s eyes as he asked the only question that he could process at the time. “Why?”
His mentor answered bluntly. “They were a distraction that limited you from reaching your full potential. This loss will make you a stronger Sith. You should thank me!”
The words sliced through him like a vibrosword. Since the moment he left he had devoted everything to his master. He obeyed orders with the utmost loyalty and skill he possessed. To be told that he was still unworthy, that this slither of his past life was eradicated solely on the off chance that it might leave him with any joy, was a thought that he could no longer bare. “THANK YOU!?” Zavron shouted. “I’LL KILL YOU!!!”
The prodigy roared as he prepared to slice his saberstaff through his master’s chest. Before either end of the blade could touch Verudan he vanished like a ghost and reappeared behind his student. The Phantom Lord grabbed Zavron by the shoulders an channeled a massive lightning bolt through Zavron’s body, that parted the skies of Dromund Kaas. The Zabrak collapsed to the ground but still clasped onto Verudan’s boots.
“Remarkable!” Darth Verudan noted. “Any of my other apprentices would have died yet you continue to fight. You will make a fine Sith!”
He began to heal his student and extended his hand as he did so many years ago.
Zavron smacked his lord’s hand away. “You are insane!”
“Relax boy, I may have pushed you beyond your limits but I never would have considered doing this. The slaves were dead hours before I arrived here.”
“Then who would do this?!” The apprentice demanded to know.
“This was the work of one of my former apprentices, Lord Paros. He is the most ruthless Sith Lord on Dromund Kaas. Paros has been killing any slavers that won’t pay his protection fees; this camp must have refused his extortion.”
Zavron quickly knelt before his mentor. “Master if what you say is true then I owe you an apoli”--
“Nonsense!” Verudan dismissed. “By striking me you have passed the final test. Tell me Zavron, you were smart enough to know that you had no way of defeating me, so why did you attack?”
“It felt as if there was this dark wave rushing over me. It was telling me to fight back, so I did; and in that moment whether I was defeated or killed seemed irrelevant, so long as I could feed that urge.”
“I see…That wave you described is passion. It is the truest feeling of all and the greatest weapon of all Sith. You mustn’t let the passion control you, nor should you try to suppress it. It must be harnessed and used with prudence. Once you master your passion anything is possible. As a Sith your greatest ordeal will be identifying when to unleash it. The Jedi enslave themselves to the force, they restrain their power with words like peace and serenity but the Sith are creatures of passion; we utilize the force to free ourselves. Listen to my words apprentice for they are the words of all Sith:
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Throughvictory,mychains arebroken.
The Force shall free me.
You have proven yourself well Zavron. From this day forward you are no longer a mere apprentice, you are now a Sith.”
“It is an honor my lord.”
“Your first mission is simple: eliminate Lord Paros by any means necessary.”
“With pleasure master,” the new Sith affirmed. Zavron rose to his feet and headed for Kaas City.
***
Verudan’s eyes lingered off into the distance. “You can stop hiding. I know you were watching.”
Suddenly, a female Sith Pureblood wielding two lightsabers appeared. This was Phantom Lord Shoust, Verudan’s star apprentice. “Master Verudan” Shoust greeted, as the two Lords exchanged pleasantries.
“What do you think of your new brother?” Verudan inquired.
“He shows potential," she asserted, "but not enough to fight Paros alone."
“That’s why I’ve called you here. I would like you to support Zavron in this mission, but only allow your presence to be known when it is needed.”
Shoust nodded. “Your will shall be done.”
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