Dark Brotherhood

[Note: Some months after the events of Party of the Damned.]

Zaaltarr strode across the sun-baked sand once more, leaving the dust and darkness of the tombs behind him. He was flanked by a pair of Tuk'ata, his hands resting upon the crest of the beasts' tri-horned heads. The shadowstrider (as he had been called during his haunt of the Shadowlands of Kashyyyk) enjoyed their company for a few meters more and then came to a stop, the folds of his cloak draping towards the surface of Korriban like liquid shadows as he lowered his hands. "Go now my friends, you have a duty to attend to, and so do I."[/i] The telepathic message was not lost on the Sith hounds, their semi-sentient minds and ability to touch the Force enabling them to comprehend the Sith's intentions. And then there was their common bond, with which they shared on a primal level: they were creatures of the night, birthed and bred as predators, given strength by the Bogan itself. Bogan. An archaic term for the Force, referred to as the Dark Side by those who knew too little of its nature. Zaaltarr himself did not divide the Force into opposing sides. In his mind, there was simply more than one way to use it. Yes, the Force was something to be used; it was not some kind of deity as the fools of the Jedi Order would have you believe. Zaal watched the Tuk'ata trot away, back in the direction of the catacombs he had been exploring for the past week. Beautiful.

Though he had had little first-hand experience with Jedi, he knew much of their teachings. The Jedi believed in one true path, that emotional detachment was necessary to utilize the power of the Ashla, or so-called Light Side of the Force properly. But they were liars. Hypocrites. Show him a Jedi who could truly fight an enemy with no emotion, no trace of aggression, and he would show you a cold-blooded killer, a psychopath. Yes, they were cold and hollow, self -righteously pushing their beliefs on those around them and striking against those who disagreed. What was worse, the Jedi shunned the notion of love, any real connection to those around them. To subject any being to such an environment -especially as a child- was cruel beyond words, and tragic indeed. So who was the monster? Love was a necessary component of growth and development, not something to lock away, as if something shameful. It was simple biology. True, the biological makeup of the galaxy's inhabitants varied, but they all operated much the same. Emotions were a crucial part of every being. They were a gauge with which sentients attained a sense of self, and they could impart the strength and focus needed to survive the challenges of life. To refute this was illogical and the height of idiocy.

Of course, most Dark Jedi and even the majority of the Sith of old had been going about things the wrong way as well. They had become slaves of their emotions, letting their thirst for knowledge twist itself into a jealous greed, pitting them against one another in a struggle both petty and meaningless. But the new Sith Order under Lord Iniquitous had great promise, and he intended to support the Overlord so long as the aim of the man's visions stayed true.

Zaaltarr swirled the sand around him idly as he continued on his way through the Valley of the Dark Lords, pushing the grains this way and that with small currents of wind. This was one of his favorite places in the galaxy. Admittedly, up until recently he hadn't seen much of the galaxy, but the Valley fascinated him more than anything. To be in a place so rich with history, amongst the tombs of some of the greatest Force-users the galaxy had ever known...it was one of the few things that put the Initiate in a good mood. In general, Zaal felt at ease amongst his fellows of the Sith Order, but he liked nothing more than to study the mysteries of the Force and peer into the unknown. He knew he was among the stronger of the Order, and yet he also realized that he had barely scratched the surface, that he had much, much more to learn. And I still need to construct a lightsaber. I have the necessary materials now, but the Lords and Ladies are bound to be too preoccupied to assist me. But Zaaltarr was not at a loss. He would turn to Xerron Delzaren, a man he had spent several years with in the Shadowlands of his homeworld. A man who had proven himself a capable warrior and whom Zaaltarr had sworn a life-debt to. But I am no longer a hunter of Kashyyyk, I am a Sith and shadowstrider. My life belongs to no one, only to that which surrounds all and binds all. Xerron and I shall be compatriots of this dark brotherhood, or nothing at all. Yes, it was time to confront his old ally as to the nature of their bond. Slowly releasing his hold on his signature in the Force, Zaaltarr opened himself up fully to the Force-link between himself and his human counterpart as he stepped through the entrance of the Sith Temple. The Wookiee headed for one of the outer courtyards that served as a practice chamber, his eyes glowing with expectation in contrast with the deep shadows of his cowl. Zaaltarr had one last test for the assassin Delzaren.