Chapter 449 - My SI Stash #49 - Worlds Worst Sith Master by Chastity (StarWars) (1/2)

-W/

Synopsis: ???

Rated: M

Words: 11K

Posted on: forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/worlds-worst-sith-master-star-wars.13582/ (Chastity)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics/originals mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1

Beneath a loosened wallplate in the storage area of the Solace and Refuge lurked a single solitary figure. She was a vision of beauty, and death alike; blood red hair flowed down her body, reaching past her waist, and she wore her battle armor, a cursed smile on her lips. A weapon was in her hand, the simple device called a lightsaber, and though it was not yet activated, it soon would be.

She heard the engines w_h_i_n_e, felt the thick force of acceleration as the ship left the atmosphere of Ashiqa. The effortless jerk and cessation of entering hyperspace, and then her lightsaber came to life.

A single man was present when she emerged, letting out a yelp of surprise at her appearance and dropping the datapad with which he had been double-checking the cargo. She drank in his eyes as she approached, locking her gaze to his, the Force aiding her in holding his body in place. She wanted to savor the moment - she could chase him down, but she would much rather kill him like this, slowly approaching and eyeing up her prey before a single swift slice carved him in twain, the fresh burn running from hip to shoulder and seeing his body simply slide in two.

The wet noise of his torso hitting the ground brought her little joy. Her delight was in the moment that the person realized their life was utterly in her hands, and they had no choice but to suffer or expire, as the case may have been. For those aboard the Solace and Refuge, it would be expiration.

So it was that she swept through the ship's corridors, her victims occasionally drawing a blaster that she effortlessly snapped aside with a simple flick of the wrist. She didn't parry: these ones were beneath such efforts. Her eyes would always lock on theirs, and she would drink in their panic as death came for them. Race, task, gender, none of them mattered, as she slaughtered her way through the crew.

Such was the price of treachery - these smugglers were carrying weapons to the world of Drenaaj, which was currently in rebellion. They should have known that the Sith would not tolerate it.

With an idle flick of her wrist she decapitated the pilot a moment after he relieved himself, grasping his body by the collar and yanking it out of the seat in the hopes of avoiding the thick scent of urine staining it too badly. She settled into the seat he had just left, feeling invigorated and yet unsatisfied, the quiet p_l_e_a_s_u_r_e of putting the fear of the Sith into these wretches having no proper apex, like i_n_t_e_r_c_o_u_r_s_e that never achieved ecstasy. They had seen, they had understood, and they were nothing to her.

Within a heartbeat, her lightsaber snapped in the space between her and the noise, and when the bolt fired forth, it was deflected.

There, standing before her, was a young boy, skin a pale red from whatever particular near-human race he was derived from. At her estimation, he was perhaps ten. With shaky hands he held the blaster, and he swallowed before firing again. She deflected once more, smiling viciously down at him. She could feel him, faintly, through the Force, now that she knew he was here - more than that, though, she could see the fear in his eyes, yet the courage that made him continue to pointlessly fire the blaster. She did not bother to block all the shots, since only perhaps one in three ever had a chance to strike her.

When the boy winced and dropped the blaster, it having become too hot for him to hold, she made her move. She approached, grasping him by the collar, hefting him easily into the air; in the other, the red glow of her lightsaber was accompanied by its hum. The boy swallowed, his expression defiant for a moment, and she stared him in the eyes, let him truly understand his position, the truth, the reality.

He lost the defiance. She let his body descend to the floor, her breath hot in the air at the rush. The boy was Force s_e_n_s_i_t_i_v_e, and her heart was pounding in her ears, her mouth feeling as if it were simply drenched with spit, so much she almost worried she would drool. This was the moment, the perfect ephemeral moment, when a strong and courageous person knew they had to suffer whatever she would do to them. She lived for these moments.

”You are now my apprentice,” she told him, as she stared down at the piteous little thing. He stared blankly up at her. It wasn't fear on his face, but acceptance of the fact he no longer controlled his fate, and ignorance of what she would ultimately do to him. She didn't care, though; the point was that he understood that he was powerless. ”I am your master now. I will teach you in the ways of the Force. If you fail to learn, I will extinguish your life.”

* * *

That was how I met Darth Rakali. She is, to put it simply, crazy. She decided that I would be her apprentice, after killing my whole family, and she has, in fact, kept to that particular promise. She even gave me a training saber and fought me again and again, over the course of our trip together. If there's one thing I learned from that, it's that I had no chance whatsoever in a fight against her.

About the only nice thing she did for me was not force me to clean up the dead bodies from the Solace and Refuge; no, that honor went to a couple poor schmucks on Ashiqa, which she returned to within a few hours of having killed everyone except me on the ship. She apparently decided that the ship was hers now, and I guess she did kill the previous owners. Is that how it works if you're Sith? I know it's not how it works for normal people, but if there is one thing I was very, very sure about, it was that Darth Rakali is not a normal person.

During the long hyperspace journey to Korriban - it wasn't anywhere near Ashiqa - I once stood at the threshold to the place she'd claimed as her quarters. It belonged to Mr. Gevlasho, who had been the ship's cook, a nice old man with three grandchildren and an ex-wife that hated him. I never saw his body in particular, but I knew she had killed everyone.

I had a blaster. I silenced my hesitation, did my best to calm my mind, to will myself to do what had to be done with the utmost stealth. If she was asleep, she wouldn't have a chance - that was my thinking at the time.

As I stood there, mentally preparing myself, she opened the door and kicked me in the head hard enough to send me to the ground. The only thing I was aware of for a moment was the flashing colors and lights in front of my face as my brain and eyes struggled to cope with the devastating blow. When I recovered, I heard her speak, her voice bored. ”If you want to kill me, you will have to learn how to properly use the Dark Side. Until then, or I get tired of you, you are my apprentice.”

When I finally arrived on Korriban after what felt like years - but was actually just a week or so - she practically huddled me against her side, pressing my cheek against her ribcage. (And certain other parts that I didn't appreciate in the least at the time.) Given the way that people looked at the two of us, I could almost imagine it was… protectiveness.

Baffling as it seemed, she was doing it to ward strangers off, to protect me from the riffraff that coated Korriban. I followed her obediently, definitely not interested in pissing her off on the Sith homeworld, and she took me to out of the space port, headed to what looked to be some kind of temple. That made even more people pay attention to me, and I could tell many of them were Sith - others were slaves or servants of various strides.

”As a young Sith, it is considered important for you to visit the tomb of a fallen Sith,” she explained to me. It sounded like she couldn't give less of a f_u_c_k about it if she tried. ”However, you are certainly too weak to survive such a task without supervision. Korriban has excellent training facilities for young Sith - but if you die, you will be dead, so use your discretion in taking advantage of them.”

I bit my lower lip, tension making every muscle in my body freeze up. It almost sounded like she planned to leave me alone, but… this was Korriban. The heart of the Sith religion. Weren't they all murderous psychos? I barely knew anything about how to fight with my stupid training saber, and it didn't actually cut things. Excitement hit me as I realized that, on the other hand, if she was leaving me unsupervised-

”If you flee, I will track you down, and-” she paused, reaching for my cheek, forcing my eyes to go to hers. Her red eyes seemed to bore directly into my soul for a long couple seconds. I swallowed, trembling before her gaze, and her finger gingerly slid up my cheek, until her nail just teased at my eyelid. She smiled, then, and I could feel a pressure in my brain, like someone was directly stabbing a needle into it and injecting fear. ”Hm. I suppose I don't know what I would do,” she said, more to herself than me, but my brain was imprinting every last word. ”I haven't had an apprentice before, much less one who fled from me. I think…” she trailed off for a moment, tilting her head gently, ”I would probably permanently disfigure you,” she decided upon, as if she was simply answering a question on some HoloNet interview. ”Let's not find out though.”

I nodded rapidly, and she smiled at that, patting my head as she released my cheek and let me move as I willed. She was playing at the role of my mother, after having killed my actual mother less than two weeks ago. ”What am I supposed to do, then?” I asked.

”Don't die,” she said, a stern warning that I didn't particularly need. ”Avail yourself of the facilities at this temple; I will be checking in on you regularly, to ensure your safety and continued learning. I'll likely have fresh work within a month, and we'll depart then.”

With that, she left my side; people parted for her, clearly quite intimidated merely by her presence. I couldn't blame them. For a moment, the attention of various people in the area came to rest on me - curiosity, envy, confusion. Even if it took what felt like an eternity, my breath held beneath their withering gazes, they lost interest, and returned to going about their days.

That's how I was left, alone, in a Sith temple, with zero supervision or protection, at the age of eleven.

* * *

Being as small as I was helped me keep a low profile, ducking below the sight lines of people, easily being lost in the crowd. The occasional shove or kick to get out of someone's way wasn't anything compared to getting hacked apart by a lightsaber. I had no real destination in mind - at first, I was thinking of some place to hide, a library or a closet or something - but I soon wound up finding the training facilities.

They had combat droids, dozens of them, armed with heavy sticks and the occasional blaster set to stun. They were these thin, wiry things, stretching up a good two heads above me, all arranged in a tight pack like a quiet phalanx. When you wantedone, you'd just take it from the mass and drag it to a training room, something I picked up by quietly watching a Sith do as much.

”Come with me,” I said to one.