Garash paced in front of the window in his quarters. He couldn't sleep, his bed a tossed mess in the corner. He pressed his hand to the new scar across his chest. It still stung with the burn of his master's lightsaber. The pain was not the reason for his wakefulness, he had slept in greater pain as a slave. Nor was it from voices or some sort of psychosis that many of his Sith brethren contracted once their force-sensitivity was fully realized. He did not hear voices, nor did he fall randomly into fits of hysterics. There was simply an order to things. He saw to it that everything fit into that. Failure did not fit into his order. Nor did uncontrolled violence. That is not to say that violence and blood shed were adverse to him, quite the contrary. He found violence a useful and pleasurable means to achieve his order. He enjoyed torturing and murdering those who were in his way. They were flaws to his order. His torturing tools were all polished and put into their correct places. His lightsaber, a beautiful and ugly thing, was cared to frequently. One end was pristine, sharp, the metal sweeping smoothly. The other end was harsh, jagged, brutal.
He looked to were it lay on his shirt, tossed to one side so he could sleep. He had already cleaned, polished, and tuned it five times. What gave him his restlessness was simple: He had failed. He had let the smuggler escape with the holocron and the bounty hunter had helped him. He had failed and it ate at him. He could feel the anger coursing through him. He held onto it, fed on it. He stopped and looked at his reflection. The bright red skin of his Zabrak heritage stood out in sharp contrast while the black tattoos melded into the space beyond.Β His eyes were two angry suns burning with power.
Just then his reflection started moving. It started to pace though Garash held his feet firmly in place. The manner of pacing was vastly different. Where as earlier his steps were measured and his hands clasped behind his back, his reflection was more primal, animalistic.
"Killed it! Crushed it!" The reflection spat the words out.
"No, I needed information from him," Garash's eyes followed his reflection.
It spat, "Information, useless. Power, useful."
"Information can lead to power." He crossed his arms.
"Small power, puny power," it stopped again in front of Garash, hands pressed against the window like a prisoner. "Know real power. Remember real strength? Real power?" His reflection had a wicked smile.
"I remember," Garash narrowed his eyes at his reflection. "And I don't see how you fared any better."
His reflection snarled angrily and with a incoherent yell, slammed it's fists into the window. The opening of the door yanked Garash out of the argument. He glared at the officer standing shaking in the doorway, "What?"
"Pardon mmm-my lord," the officer gulped, "B-but there, ah, seems to be... That is..."
"Do I need to pull the information out of you?" He didn't turn to face the officer, simply using the windows reflection to see him.
"No! No, m'lord," he cleared his throat, "The expedition seems to have disturbed a large and viscous beast."
"So? Kill it." He waved his hand dismissively, "That is what the troopers are for."
The officer gulped again, "It's just that it has...eaten all the forces that get too close."
At this Garash finally turned around, "It has what?"
"It has," he adjusted the collar of his uniform, "eaten all the outer guards and at least two more platoons. The droids too, m'lord."
Garash let out a low growl and could feel a tingle as lightning crossed the gaps of the horns that were one of the trademarks of his species. It gave him a viscous crown of horns and lightning. The officer grew pale. "Get me a ship," Garash looked at the rank markings on the officer, "Lieutenant."
The lieutenant started to visibly shake as Garash started to walk forward. "Yes, m'lord. Right away, m'lord!" He cleared his throat, "begging your pardon, my lord, but your hand..."
Garash looked to see the skin broken and bleeding, "A ship, lieutenant, now." His voice was calm and even. The officer nodded and bolted down the hallway like a womprat with its tail on fire.
Garash looked at his shirt and lightsaber then to his busted hand. He could hear cracks and pops as he moved his fingers. Focusing on the pain he used it to make the tissue stitch back together. With one last glance at his shirt and lightsaber, we walked towards the hangar.
The lieutenant from earlier almost ran into him as he got there, "A thousand apologies, Lord Garash. The shuttle is prepped and ready, just waiting for you." He fidgeted some, "Perhaps I can fetch your light-" Garash ignored him completely and continued toward the shuttle, "Of course, m'lord, your prerogative, m'lord."
Once inside the craft, he stood between the pilot and copilot chairs, "Bring me as close as possible to the problem."
The pilot simply started working the controls, not saying a thing. Garash watched out the main viewport with his arms crossed as his reflection started to pace and was facing the on coming planet. "Yes! Yes!" It turned to face him for a second, "Kill it! Crush it!"
The planet looked closer and soon they were through the atmosphere hurtling over the dense undergrowth. The shuttle made landfall in the makeshift landing pad in the main camp. When the hatch opened, Garash could hear the sounds of blaster fire and explosions. He made his way towards the sound, with troopers throwing as much ordinance out as fast as possible. Their target was obscured by dust and debris, but it's silhouette was impressive. He stood next to a ranking officer, "Tell your men to cease fire."
"WHAT!? Are you joking?" He turned around with a start and practically fell backwards, "My lord! Apologies, I thought... I will order the cease fire immediately." He walked a few feet away to send the order over to all the soldiers.
Garash walked forward, rolling his shoulders as the smoke cleared. Stopping between two barricades he got his first good look at the creature. It was some sort of hulking insectoid. It stood a good four meters tall, the lowest legs were digigrade, with two knees like some avian creatures and some reptiles. The thorax was solid and covered in chitinous plates. Another set of limbs ended in what looked like scythes and the top most pair looked wicked and sharp enough to worry some walkers. The head was situated between the top two limbs with large plates of chitin covering it to the point the eyes were hard to find. The jaws on it were massive and filled with tooth-like spines as well as copious amounts of drool or some similar substance. It stood there for a moment, confused. It seemed to be wondering why all the noise stopped. It looked around and seemed to settle on Garash, at whom it roared and began to charge.
Then it faltered a little.
Garash let out his own howl of challenge and burst forward. Any sort of subtlety or decorum, gone. His only thoughts were crushing the beast. He poured the force into his limbs to make himself faster. With a leap into the air he slammed into the ground with thunderous force. Lightning crackled from his landing site and he planted a solid blow with his bare fists into the things chest. The thing roared and twitched some. Garash could feel its anger and pain, and it was glorious. He pulled in those feelings and used it as more power, the rush was euphoric. The beast, though, had other ideas and swung a massive claw down onto the Sith. Feeding on all the fear, pain and anger around him, Garash focused the force into a small shield in the palm of one hand, which stopped the massive claw for reaching it's mark. With the other he launched a concentrated blast of lightning into the things abdomen again. It convulsed again, and brought the other claw sweeping in. This one mostly missed its target, but did knock Garash back. The Sith bolted forward, using the middle limbs as spring boards to reach the things back. He howled as his whole body erupted into a shower of lightning. Raising his hands, he brought all of the electricity up to his hands then slammed it into the things neck, between some of the armor. It roared and thrashed, tossing the Sith off it's back. It responded with one side claw coming down and the other sweeping horizontally. Garash ducked to the insided of both claws and landed, if the thing had been human, a gut punch. The connection was hard with a thunderclap and burst of electricity. The thing, much to the onlookers amazement, was knocked back several feet, but not down.
It planted it's hind legs and foremost claws and began to make odd noises. After a moment, out of it's massive maw came a torrent of a vile substance. Garash flipped back out of the was just as the vomit hit where he had been standing. The ground sputtered and fizzed with acid. The insectoid beast made another below. Instead of a verbal response, Garash launched himself going higher with the use of the force and landed a blow laced with force lightning to the things head.
The thing staggered back a few steps and shook it's head to swing back blindly and back handed. It knocked Garash to the ground hard, he could hear cracks and pops as he stood. He focused on that pain, gathered it into a ball and fed it into his own power. Pushing that power out, he extended his hands and the beast slowly began to rise into the air. It flailed in confusion. Garash could feel currents of energy pulsating around his body as he began to move his hands apart from each other. The hulking insect started to howl in pain and flailed around more and more. Garash's muscles strained against the feed back from the force as he pulled at the thing. Then with a last cry of rage and pain, the beast split in two uneven chunks and came crashing down in a heap of chitin, flesh and green ichor. Garash strode forward through the biological debris. He rummaged around until he held something about the size of his head in his hands that had several tubes leading into it and oozed more of the green ichor. With a viscious smile, Garash maddened as he was, began to take ravenous, gluttonous bites out of the organ. He dropped it after a few minutes of devouring what was most likely the things heart and limped back to the line of soldiers. The field commander he had spoken to earlier came up to him.
"M'lord! That..." Garash simply put a hand on the mans chest plate and shoved him aside, leaving a violent green hand print on the armor. The Sith managed a few more paces before everything went black.
His world resolved into the inside of a kolto tank. His reflection had a wicked, evil grin underneath the oxygen mask, "More power. Good."
"You could have gotten killed, you idiot," Garash's voice was a little muffled from his own mask.
His reflection shrugged, "Live on. Means strong."
"What purpose did that serve?" Annoyance was coming out in Garash's voice.
A medic came over to the tank, checked the instruments on it, then began pressing a few buttons. Soon instead of floating in the medical concoction, he was standing in the tube waiting for it to open. He pulled the oxygen mask off as the chamber opened. The medic handed him a towel then some clean clothing to wear, "Lord Garash, there are soldiers waiting for you outside."
He took the clothes and waved the medic away. Outside the medbay doors were two Imperial soldiers, though their uniforms were different. The armoring had aspects of the beast Garash had killed and they had bright vibrant green hand prints on their breastplates. Both knelt before him, "M'Lord, we have been tasked to escort you to our commander."
"Very well." This was all the affirmative they got.
The two soldiers stood and took Garash to a command center. Many of the soldiers he saw along the way had similar aspects to their uniforms and armor as his two escorts. The metal of their armor was fashioned like the chitin of the slain beast and all had green handprints on their armor. Inside the command center, one figure stood out. Their armor was the most like the creatures, and their gloves even had claws. Strapped to their back was one of the middle talons from the thing, turned into some sort of sword. When they turned around, it was the field commander from before. "Ah, My Lord! Thank you for coming on short notice."
"What is it, Commander?" Garash crossed his arms.
The commander cleared his throat,Β "We saw what you did the other day, m'lord. We knew Sith were powerful, but that..." something almost like a wistfulness came over the commander, "I have pledged myself and my soldiers to be your personal honor guard and troops. We are yours to use, Lord Garash."
The Zabrak Sith looked around to all the officers in the room, they were all looking at him, "And why would I need soldiers?"
"Surely there are tasks that are beneath a Sith such as yourself, my lord," A woman officer spoke up, "And I'm sure we can offer much more."
He looked the woman over, "Hm, so be it. But do not fail me."
"I'm sure our work will get your satisfaction," She sauntered over to him. She opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a runner coming in. They were dressed like an Imperial scout, but again, with the slight twist of the troopers who now serve Garash.
"Lord Garash!" The scout knelt, "A message from Darth Vesh!" Garash was handed a datapad.
He took it and looked it over. "Commander, gather your troops and get back on the ship. We are leaving. We leave by the end of the day, if anyone isn't moving fast enough or not pulling their weight, kill them." He handed the datapad to the female officer, "I will be on the ship."
Once on the shuttle, his reflection moved again, "She is ours. Take her." It wiped it's mouth like it was drooling.
"If she proves useful," He glared at his reflection.
"Ours. TAKE." His reflection had it's hands on the viewports, "TAKE."
"M-m'lord, who are you talking to?" The co-pilot of the shuttle turned a little.
Garash glared at the helmeted individual, "Not you. Ask a stupid question like that and I will kill you."
"Yessir!" They quickly returned to what they were doing. The shuttle docked and Garash was back on the ship.
Garash stood in the middle of the bridge waiting. For once his reflection was silent. He heard some one approach. "M'lord, all troops and supplies are back on the ship. Only 5 executions, mostly archeologists who refused to get moving."
"Good, your expediency and determination are noted, Commander." Garash turned to face the man, and saw the woman with him, "I see you brought a friend, Commander."
"Yes, m'lord," The woman stepped forward, "I would like to offer my services as your aide. I would do lowly errands for you, take messages, field messages that weren't worth your attention...among other services."
"Name." He heard his reflection, "TAKE. TAKE!"
"Ensign Lora Markov, m'lord." She bowed when she spoke.
Garash sent a bolt of lightning into the ensign, causing her to shake and convulse where she stood, "Ensign Markov, remember this feeling. If you fail me, it will be only the beginning."
She fell to her knees, gasping for breath, "Ye-..." She gulped in more air, "Yes, m'lord. Of course, I will not fail."
"Good." Garash turned his back to both of them, "Prepare for a jump to hyperspeed, we are going to Dromund Kaas."
