Djuga Helios

[djuga]

Name:Djuga Helios
Race: Anzati
Age: 150(He appears 25 due to his species long lives.)
Birthplace: Anzat

Allegiance:Sith
Status:Sith Lord
Rank:Assassin

Height/Weight:7 feet/220 pounds
Appearance:

Someone could be mistaken for thinking that he cares for power with the way he carries himself because of his blood lust. His features, though pleasant and nonthreatening, make him look like someone raised in position and bred for power - something he often uses to his advantage when people think he wants power. Hoping to catch them off guard he does not usually correct people on that assumption. His bright blue eyes display the blood lust to those well observed, although it usually only happens to someone else thirsty for revenge. Attempting to push people away he will be blunt and rude when facing them directly. Looking people in the eye and making them uncomfortable is usually the response. Certainly, if they want to get rid of him, someone will not pay attention to him too closely, or so he thinks anyway. The second side of the last lightsaber, once collapsed, acts like a guard.

It is immediately obvious that he does not care much about his appearance after years of enslavement. Dust and dirt is usually covered all over his skin because he bathes on the irregular. Immaculate skin hides under the dirt and mud - on occasions that he has assignments off world and away from his ship he maintains a pristine appearance that emphasizes welcoming and warmth. Djuga spends almost no time straightening or combing his long hair so it is usually covering his face with only his eyes fair. His ivory hair, transformed by his years of being trained by the dark side of the force almost looks feminine as it grows near his shoulders. The only reason the dark side has not affected him more is because his use of active force abilities is limited compared to others that are force sensitive.

Although he is thin for his height, he maintains a strict training regiment that makes his physique very athletic. Honing it over his bodies muscle over a decade spent in seclusion on board the Alexandria has made him very agile. Because he would be dead, for not thinking on his feet, he takes great effort to continually exercise to remain fit. Training in increased gravity environment has honed his body into weapon as he trains in martial arts. Preferring to fight with a blade as the case may be, fighting unarmed as become a crucial part of how fights in a battle. Realizing the battle is over with a sword, he will abandon the weapons entirely and fight an opponent unarmed.

Druja's movements are always executed with a certain amount of intensity. Used to more intense gravity, he sometimes appears as though he is always refusing to stand in one place for so long. Fidgeting in his chair or moving around a room to avoid standing still is something that happens in room full of people. Although he is a patient person, he hates being in one place for to long. Pacing is just a habit that he developed to deal with situations where more thinking was required than brute force. He feels tactics on a grand scale just unnerve in a room full of generals.

When it comes to lightsaber combat, he often can be seen staring at his opponents weapon as though that was his opponent. Forming a decision between different maneuvers usually brings him into a trance like state. He begins to think only about his opponent as they become locked in combat. Distracting him from everything outside of the moment the moment begins is a staple of his addiction to battle. Even when he is not included in the battle himself, his gaze seemed almost godlike as he imagines what he would do in the same situation. Leverage, position, advantage. He is a fencer at heart that will not cease to enjoy a good fight. To him it rivals sex in terms of enjoyment.

Donning his battle armor outside of battle is something that can usually be seen on his person. Removing his helmet at any point in battle seems fool hardy as it would most likely get the young Sith killed. Two collapsible double sided lightsabers can be seen resting on his utility belt. Although blasting away at things is not his first choice, a sniper rifle can usually be found strapped to his back. The capstone of his ensemble is a black cloak that hides his armor. Additionally, Pk-5 can usually be seen at his side

Personality:

Living as a slave for the better part of a hundred years has made him a different type of Sith than the norm. Power, knowledge, wisdom. None of those things matter after his enslavement. Revenge is the driving motivation behind his existence. Even if he defeated all his enemies, in a fate worse than death, he would see their ghost in everything. He is stubborn, there nothing that he would chose over revenge. The only possible middle ground would be under the condition that they shared the same enemies and suffered the same betrayals, otherwise, nothing could prevent him from enacting his vengeance on an enemy.

There is a silver lining, however, because he will be the most loyal servant any Sith would ever want by their side. For most Sith that is a contradiction, hence, he is often riddled with contradictions. Sitting on the throne of an empire and handing it back to its rightful owner is one of his defining characteristics. However, this is not to be confused with loyalty because the longer he would be in a position of power the less likely he is trust the person responsible for placing him in that position. Because he is after revenge, standing still for to long might make him consider a throne a betrayal.

Enslavement has made him a fighter that only lives to fight battles where the outcome is uncertain. Risking his life for the thrill that comes with slashing someone apart is quite cathartic for the young Anzat. He can be come quite bloodthirsty in an effort to satiate his blood lust. Someone could say that he is chasing ghosts because he does not have the power to destroy all of his enemies. He is patient, he will wait for a thousand years to destroy his enemy, if he had no choice. Sabotage, tricks, dishonor. He does not see the nature of a fair fight. If an advantage exist, there would be nothing to prevent him from utilizing it.

The young Anzati loves a challenge that will work him into a good sweat so much that it has made him ruthless. Sometimes, most of the time, he has trouble knowing when to stop a fight. After he considers someone a worthy adversary, he puts forward everything he has to give. Laying down in a fight is something contrary to his nature. He might change tactics, but he will gladly sacrifice his life to see a task completed. However, he is not suicidal and that is not his opening move. He knows when to walk before the fight has begun, but afterwords he usually can't stop himself and needs to be restrained.

He is self-delusional, he often overwrites events in his head so that he does not consider himself the villain of the story. Although enslavement as made him a victim, he has also victimized people so much so that is how he copes with his actions. Thinking his suffering is an excuse for his action is one of the primary foundations of his personality. No one amount of pleading or argument could change that opinion. Refusing to accept anyone's opinion but his own is also a staple of his personality. Although he will follow orders, personal arguments don't really phase him anymore.

He can be quite intelligent when it comes to machines because he has a talent for ripping them apart and analyzing them. Seeing the patterns in his head as he alters machine code is something that appeals to him. Working with machines is one of the few distractions that eclipses his thirst for revenge. He is quite likely capable of secluding himself in a room with a computer for days editing files and writing programs. This is not to be confused with battle tactics because he is not meant to lead. The most he knows is when a fight is over before it begins. The equations in his head are usually survival against the thrill of a good fight. Depending on the victor of that argument will usually decide his actions.

Ships/Vehicles:
Nightwing

Equipment:
shoto: single phase, synthesized crystal, red
shoto: single phase, synthesized crystal, red
collapsible dual-bladed lightsaber: single phase, synthesized crystal, red
collapsible dual-bladed lightsaber: single phase, amber(stolen from a Baselisk Jedi)

(Credit to creator of image)
Magnetic Cuffs
Data Crystals x5
Ion Grenade(25mm)x3
Sonic Grenade(25mm)x3
EM Pulse Grenade(25mm)x3
Nightshade
PK-5
Trident x2


Stats:

Strength -  Average
Agility - Superior
Intelligence -  Average
Charisma - Below Average

Force Stats:

Telekinetic-Apprentice
Telepathic-Apprentice
Body-Master
Sense-Expert
Protection-Apprentice
Healing:–Apprentice
Destruction–Adept


Combat Training:
Teras Kasi - Average
Ranged Weapons:Average
Rifles:Average
Pistols:Average
Piloting - Below Average
Vibroblade - Below Average

Force Training:

Force Concealment - Master

Other Training:



Programming (Same scale as lightsaber training model)

-Neural Linguistic Programming - Average
-Machine Code Programming - Average
-Parallel Circuit Board Programming - Average
-Machine Code Programming - Average
-Matrix Programming - Average
-Artificial Intelligence Programming - Average
-Droid Repair, Creation, Modification - Average
-Hacking Machine Code - Expert

Lightsaber Training:

Shii-Cho- Master
Jar-Kai/Dual Wield: Double bladed or shotos or mixture of both - Specialist (specialized in defending against 3-4 opponent)

Biography:


Arriving on Anzat after a chase through an erroneous nebula, Jedi master Koufu, who was an Anzati himself was quite taken aback. Being on his home world after so many years apart dazed him. Having been away for nearly a thousand years was mesmerizing. If not for his skills as a Jedi, he was practically an alien to his own people. So much so that he was attacked by one of them once he began exploring a wreckage. Clearly, force sensitive but never trained his opponent lunged at him. Training as a hunter made him a fierce opponent for the older Jedi, but he eventually managed to get the upper hand. Murdering his attacker quite readily like it had become commonplace to him.

Sensing a strong presence in the force as he began to explore the wreckage was enlightening. Discovering an infant in the wreckage. He wondered, like himself trained as a Jedi at birth, that a Jedi would be able to raise him right. Removing the child off world after he clearly murdered his only family seemed like the proper course of action for the Jedi. Eventually resulting in his removal from the Jedi order, but the decision was still made to train the infant. Placing him with other younglings in their nurseries would be the beginning of the infant's life.

The first six years of his life were prominently unremarkable. Although he had a willful attitude, presumably inherited from his parents, it was something he struggled with from a young age. Despite the fact that he has never known anything but the Jedi lifestyle, his disregard for rules seemingly was intrinsic to who he was. After he was inducted into the lifestyle of a youngling, he became obsessed with force holocrons detailing their history. The Sith were always of particular interest. When he had any free time at all, it was spent studying the temple archives. Attempting to learn more ways that force users have impacted history in the past. He was never more certain that he might want to be watcher someday, exploring different races in order to locate more force sensitive users.

Among the Jedi High Council, there were two widely accepted truth about the youngling. Expressing that he was the most stubborn and discipline younglings of their generation. That willful attitude, after inheriting his stubbornness it from his people, the discipline he acquired from the Jedi. When he was not studying for his lessons, he would spend nearly six hours a day practicing his lightsaber techniques. While some masters considered this an asset, the majority considered his almost complete disregard for anyone else's opinion, once his decision was made, disconcerting. He had even set up sparring matches, using training lightsabers, among other younglings. Sometimes those sparring matches would get very heated, leading to some blackened eyes and bruised ribs became a part of his daily routine. Although it was not out of some need to be the best, he genuinely desired to be challenged in any way he could find.

Shortly thereafter, he soon met Nejera, a 150 year old Anzat, who was a master in the order. After seeing him practice his lightsaber training, witnessing discipline beyond his years, she offered to become his master. She explained that she argued against the council’s decision to send him to the exploration corps. Revealing that she believed that with discipline anything could be achieved, equivocally, she stated that discipline was a very difficult concept to learn. For the longest time the only form of training she taught him was mediation. Taming his spirit she called it. She always used to say that his spirit was connection to the dark side. Their need for the soup could destroy them. If he ever let it go unchecked, he could never take up the reigns again. Flabbergasted, he never considered that he was holding himself back at all.

The next few months with Nejera were spent learning the basics of the art of Shii-Cho, with a training lightsaber, before being sent to the one of the moons in the Corellian system. Disagreements arose between settlers native to the system and Mandalorian refugees, prominently trading disputes. Although he would just sit and watch his master through most of the negotiations, in private he would argue that the more powerful force should be the group who should take control of that moon. Despite losing the argument, regardless, Nejera went with his side of the argument. The Mandalorians proceeded to remove the settlers from the moon and nearly start a galactic incident because the Corellians requested support. Even though Nejera was eventually able to avoid too many casualties, a Corellian was killed, by calming everyone down, Djuga was beginning to see that not everything was attainable through force alone. That is when he began struggling with how much force to bring to the table.

He failed miserably, the actions that once flowed seamlessly began to test his control. It seemed to affect everything, when his Shii-Cho training continued, his movements were all always more subtle and in control then before. Around this time she thought it was time he acquired a lightsaber because of his improvement in his skill with Shii-Cho. Although he was not alone for his trip to Ilum, his master had agreed with her fellow Jedi that it might be best were it a group expedition. Leading to the addition of two other padowans, Jahaq and Sheena, for their quest through the arctic tundra. They were warned, after they arrived on the planet, they would not have an infinite amount of time to get things done. Nejera had previously warned him that several Jedi died in attempt to acquire their crystals in the past.

Jahaq decided to foolishly go his own way. Remembering the events of Corellia he went with Sheena in the direction that she chose. That image of a watery, frozen solid, grave stood before his eyes as they trekked through the cave. After wandering for hours, they reached a bridge nearly 30 feet across, with a dozen pillars on either side. Everything seemed like it was falling apart, as Sheena began approaching her crystal. Although she managed to acquire her crystal, the bridge fell apart. Hanging on with her last breath he rushed to her aid because he refused to have another life on his conscious. The ice melted, rays of the sun gleamed, and the cold wind breezed chills down his spine. Grabbing her hand as he told her to hold on, she was... gone. After she slipped and fell, he realized that the hand waving and second guessing was getting him nowhere. There was never control, that was his first thought as he gripped the crystal that was now in his hand.

Although he regretted her death, even lamenting her passing, there was not much that he could have done about it. Before he could account for his whereabouts, he realized that he had lost his footing. Plummeting into another deeper cave. The cavern he found himself in had his own crystal at the end of a jagged crevice where he saw where Sheena's body at the end of its spine. That gnawing, turned inside out, nail biting feeling gripped him as he felt the rocks pierce his skin while crawling to her body. It was something he felt he owed to her because he had failed to save her. Reaching her body was only half the battle because now he had to get her body back to the entrance. Time was running out, he was losing steam as he dragged her body to the entrance of the cave. As the entrance was beginning to bridge the gap, his master was able to pull their body to safely exit the cave unharmed. Explaining the situation as best he could where he expected to be chastised for failing to save her. Instead, Nejera was pleased that he returned her body, speculating that most would have simply left her body behind.

After learning the basics history Jar'kai from Nejera, it seemed appropriate to abandon the traditional aspects of normal lightsabers in favor of dual shotos. The speed, agility, and maneuverability seemed to fit the young padowan quite well. That grueling, edge on the heel of a boot, kicked into high gear moment happened as he began selecting the various metals for his blade. It took him almost two months to finish construction because none of the metals never felt quite correct in the palm of his hand. Carbonate, wood, gold. The possibilities for the appropriate metals for his shotos were endless, however, vibrosteel was the only material that felt right in the palm of his hands. His instincts dictated that the vibrosteel be thin, like anyone else would struggle to wield it, choosing nothing fancy on the blades themselves. Eventually he managed to complete his blades, beginning his theoretical study in Jar-kai.



Beginning with his knowledge of Shii-Cho Nejera began honing that particular skill to an advanced degree. For months he did nothing but duel Nejera until it became hard to breath, his muscles ached, and sweat seemed to seep into every fiber of his being. That grotesque, thrown out of a window, cut open on a surgery table of powerlessness feeling overtook him as they battled each other day in and day out. It seemed like that was all they did for year was make him feel as though he did not know how to wield the blade at all. Then the ground shifted beneath his feet. Without warning, she began switching in between his training of Jar-kai and Shii-Cho effortlessly, expecting him to do the same. It was exhausting, months seeming like he was getting beaten up before the force techniques that involved Jar-kai began to reveal themselves.

Declaring that it was time for more hands on learning Nejera revealed that there was an assignment involving the Mandalorian underground. They had been ordered to protect a refugee that had sensitive information that needed to be delivered to the counsel. Arriving in a Mandalore settlement on one of the moons in the Kuat system a few weeks later and they proceeded to investigate. Djuga began learning how the criminal element of Mandalore operated. They were bounty hunters, slavers, and smugglers with the informant they were looking was hiding, in plain sight, amongst them. Dressed in the garbs of smugglers he began slowly discovering the difference the between the misguided from the vastly evil ones.

Now 16, his sheltered life began to shatter in the wake of new discoveries. Testing his resistance to the soup. Flabbergasted by the decadence being seen here, it was a culture shock to say the least for the young Jedi. Strippers, prostitutes, slavers, bounty hunters. In an atmosphere that was palpable with the kind of detestable filth he could never have imagined. He was tested, Laurien, a beautiful Twi-lex, had made several advances. Despite his Jedi training, he found that she held some sway over him. This was it, not sword techniques or the mastery of the force, it was mastery of these mortal connections that challenged a Jedi's resolve. Her advances continued during his time on the moon. That uncountable, stand on pins and needles, euphoria gripped him as attempted to control his lust for her that grew with each passing day. Djuga was nearly at a point where he was ready to seduce her. Keeping their affair hidden from the Jedi order, of course, then his missing master brought him back to reality.

Although it became clear this would not be easy, he realized before long his master was missing, or was it just another test? Knowing that it was something his master might have pulled, he continued on with the mission. Besides any trouble she got into he knew she was more than capable of handling it herself. Used to the buckling noise of the fringes by now, he barely even noticed when someone familiar crossed his path, Laurien. Djuga was beginning to wonder what he was doing here, or had this been the test all along? Djuga had the distinct impression that his master was watching everything. It got worse, the curve of her hips, the softness of her breast, the tenderness of her lips as he imagined being inside her before waking up each more morning. It was clear, he had feelings for her, however, the search for the informant began to steady him. Then the ground shifted beneath his feet once again.

Laurien had a habit of appearing, inexplicably, out of nowhere and tackling him on the ground in the hopes of convincing him into some lewd, rubbing her breast against his body was her readily available maneuver. Then, subsequently, they were cornered in the local bar by bounty hunters looking for the stolen data crystals. Confused, he began to realize that all of her advances were an attempt for him to realize that she was the informant that he had been searching for in this system for the last seven months. The universe can still surprise him, was his first thought, he never accepted a woman to use her body so effortlessly in response to getting what they wanted. He was practically innocent, when it came to the machinations of the female form. It was just not something that the Jedi prepared an initiate for all that well. Something like this could only be learned firsthand.

That jaw dropping, goosebumps rolling down arms, sensation revealed itself to him as he took responsibility of the woman. Although he was not yet as skilled a swordsman as Nejera, he was able to use his skills in Jar-kai well enough to defend Laurien, of course, he failed. Exceedingly outmatched in manpower and skill, he only lasted for about an hour against three bounty hunters. Powerless, he placed himself in front of the woman prepared to give his life for her in that moment, though not out of bravery or selflessness, he had clearly fallen in love. It would become one of his major struggles as he continued on his path as a Jedi. As the bounty hunters flocked around him, like a pack of wolves and their prey, Nejera appeared suddenly in from the crowd outside. Freely dressed as a smuggler, she had been there all along waiting for the right opportunity. Revealing that she had used the informant, as bait, because she knew her young padowan would protect her, though she never expected his reasons to be love.

When he was not training in Shii-Cho, he found himself standing by Laurien's door. He was practically a love sick school boy, however, his master realized this all too well. Because the many trials one faces as a Jedi, Nejera decided to let this particular moment play itself out, of course, nothing was ever that easy. Naturally he had to know if her feelings for him were reciprocated. Eventually getting her attention, she revealed that while it her antics initially were just a gambit to reveal herself to him, leaving the smugglers unaware. Instead, she discovered that she felt the same way. That being said, after a moments pause, she offered him the chance to run away with her, exploring the galaxy together.

That chained, like being strapped down to a gurney, response that comes from being a prisoner feeling washed over him. He had considered her offer all the way back home. Choosing her would mean being expelled from the Jedi order when he had hardly even begun. Wrestling with it as she would sneak into his bed and attempt to get him to break his vows as a Jedi. Each night she almost succeeded, however, he still felt his calling to the Jedi order. Being raised by the Jedi his entire life made this the first opportunity that he had to truly consider leaving. Although he had struggled with decision for weeks, he was about to make the conscious decision to leave the Jedi and go join her, but the night he decided to think it over one last time induced a vision that made him consider all possible outcomes.



Although unaware by him, he was about undergo the trial of spirit. The vision converged on the year 3603 BBY. Emerging on the battle of the Jedi Temple on Rhen Var was a battle hardened Sith Lord that the youth did not recognize with the mask covering his face. Proud, brave, courageous, run into a burning building individual that embodied the Jedi Knight that stood before him reminded him of himself, though the face of the Jedi Knight was disguised by the hair covering his face. The hale falling, mist in the background, and rain causing goosebumps on the back of the Jedi Knight. That dreadful atmosphere, gnawing that sacrifice of one's soul, was inherently palpable as the Jedi looked into the mask of the Sith, wielding dual shotos. He was livid, the Jedi was clearly outmatched but in his hubris he would rather die than admit he was the weaker man. Something Djuga watched hopelessly as he remembered his master saying the same thing about himself from time to time.

Pleading with the Sith Lord to spare the younglings at the temple gladly offering his own life in return. Although the masked Jedi had yet to reveal himself, standing before him now was the woman he had come to know as Laurien. Betrayal, deceit, megalomania, those were thoughts that stood in his mind has he watched the woman at the heart of this conflict, seemingly, decide his fate. Was she a symptom of the disease, or was she the solution? It was hard to tell and everything was jumbled. Powerless, he was always drawn to the woman by an almost otherworldly obsession. It was kismet, everything seemed to be falling into place as he saw himself ready to die for the Jedi order. The Jedi was forced to watch powerlessly as several younglings were slaughtered needlessly. Confused, he began to see what would go so wrong that choosing love over duty would lead to being dragged around in chains.

The light, gleaming the darkness, stood as a lighthouse for the bastion of Sith Lords and Knights, as Laurien dragged the chained Jedi Knight to her masters. She had convinced the Sith that he was worth converting to the dark side of the force. Although not a Sith herself, her voice carried weight in the empire. He was tortured, even in his agony his willful attitude was going to get him killed, that was something his master had struggled with weeding out in him for quite some time. His strong disregard for other's opinions revealed through his skin being flayed alive. After months of torture, the mysterious masked figure offered him the chance to learn the ways of the dark side. However, his identity refused to be suppressed by the whims of the empire that now threatened the galaxy. The Sith began starving the prisoner for weeks at a time, however, his will so strong that he cut out his own tongue and plunged a needle through his eardrums. Preventing the Sith from getting what he desired by committing suicide had always been something of a hero's demise that he had always imagined for himself.

That slush, drown in one's own blood, pool of water feeling converged on him as his first vision came to an end. Emerging from witnessing him drowning in his own blood and the part as he saw Laurien's role in it. Although his feelings for her were as strong as they had ever been, he found himself now able to pull away in the opposite direction, though her pull was still powerful. Conversely, after he revealed the nature of conflict, love or duty, Nejera realized that had experienced the first trial that identifies the Jedi's readiness to undertake the path to knighthood. Considering the nature of his conflict he considered his decision to remain with the Jedi order to be his trial of the flesh. Because if he chose love over duty, he would be expelled from the Jedi order. Intending to have the youth make his own decision he sent his padowan to escort Laurien through the outer rim.

Before he departed for the task in escorting Laurien across the core worlds his master decided to discover where he stood with his training. Refusing to give him any leniency she did not hold back. That was it, after insisting one more lesson, she went all out in her sword techniques, like she never has in their sparring sessions. Discovering that he still paled in comparison to her skills, but as they sparred his instincts took over. Her movement with a lightsaber alternated between genius and godlike, and converged on faster than he could keep up, so a plan had to be devised. First, he attempted his new skills with Shii-Cho, only to have his attacks easily defended. Next, there was his recently acquired skill with a Shii-Cho technique, after a forward motion of both his blades that involve two strikes in the same motion, she easily swatted him away like he was a fly. Then, he stopped thinking, unleashing his instincts and he landed a blow by seamlessly bringing together all the lightsaber techniques of Shii-Cho he knew. His master determined that he had mastered Shii-Cho.

Although he had been on several missions in the past, the twenty year old Jedi was on his first task on his own. Learning that after he and Laurien were transferred on board the Trident, a Zabrak galactic class battle cruiser, he was terrified of her. The dreams, the torture, the second guessing. Djuga had not felt like this since the days that he felt responsible for the death on Corellia, his first task as a padowan without supervision. Despite him being drawn to her, there was now the very real possibility that she would lead him to the dark side. Her face resonated between the most beautiful woman in the known universe and the most dreadful, and pierced the veil toward being a woman scorned, so something needed to happen to break the tension. Unless, of course, it was all still in his mind reeling from his vision quest where she murdered him.

Now 20 years old, the trials to knighthood had begun. After Nejera commissioned his trials to knighthood, he was sent to the outer rim, Ordo, to be more precise, more accurately one of the moons. The space pirates, mainly various humonoids from the rest of the galaxy, were attempting blackmail her for the information she was safeguarding by kidnapping her younger sister from their home on Curoscant. The pirates had a reputation of resonating between tragic and calculating, and gravitating toward more ruthless business techniques, so a lateral move was devised. Dismissive, he decided to use himself as bait to sneak in and rescue her sister, Anliza. Because she was adamant about her involvement, she went undercover as his wife. Playing the part of fellow bounty hunter. Djuga was even able to acquire a pair of vibroblades to play the part properly. They spent months on the moon investigating who might have her sister before the right bounty hunter, Klutzer, who was an Anzat, was located.

Left to the four winds, the wind chilled the skin, the trees whistled, blasters could be heard in the background. Discovering that the machinations of pirates were not to be underestimated as he infiltrated their crew. The pirates shifted from calculated and ruthless in the blink of an eye, and they rarely deviated their planned routine, so they proceeded with caution. Unaccustomed to the boldness of their operation, it was an instinct that began to creep into his pores the more he infiltrated their organization. First, it was the lewdness of their behavior, he was taken aback so readily by their desire to accumulate wealth, power, and physical satisfaction. Although his time with Luarien had given him glimpses, there was something about the freedom they offered that he felt connected to them in way that had begun to remove him from the Jedi. Luarien seemed to only be the catalyst.

Breathtakingly beautiful woman were always available, he simply could not avoid them for long enough to still accomplish his task. More than that, everyone smelled of sex, he could just not avoid the aroma of it. Then, apparently, Luarien, suggested they break the tension themselves. That was his first step to the dark side, the moment he began to change, and after unzipping her jacket and removing her blouse he was lost. The curves of her hips, the softness of her breasts, it was clear that he was ruled by lust and romance did not factor into it anymore. His possession of her in that manner clearly revealed that he had no loyalties to the Jedi. Soon thereafter, his task became more about not disappointing Laurien, who satisfied his every physical whim and desire.

It seemed their physical relationship was a stronger bond than his fear what path he might follow, if they were together. Then, aggressively, he revealed he was Jedi, to Klutzer, but that he would offer his services to them on the condition that they freed Anliza. Intrigued, after explaining that He needed to return to the order one last time, the bounty hunters released Aniliza. Dismayed at the outcome of events, he was quickly summoned in front of the Jedi High Council. After explaining everything that had happened, the council agreed he no longer belonged with the Jedi, confiscating his lightsabers.



The space pirate’s leader, Klutzer, revealed that he was a Dark Jedi, who had left the republic nearly sixty years ago now. That pirate alternated between shades of calculated and wrathful energies he was unaccustomed to, and converged on ruthless whims the likes of which were still alien to the young man, so he was taken aback by his willingness to do everything. Left to his own devices the first thing Klutzer did was place Laurien into his custody for proper motivation. Announcing that she would be returned to him once his powers had been adequately mastered. Klutzer had planned to test his skills with a blade almost immediately. They took the Horas, a simple freighter, with barely any functions besides life support, traveling to the outer rim.

Threatening him with being tossed out an airlock for the simplest mistake was a part of his daily routine, though it never seemed serious. When they were deep enough into space, they began a rigorous training routine with a lightsaber. Klutzer had begun putting him through his paces. The mind altering, stabbed in the back, euphoria that makes people forget about everything in the universe began to take hold of the young man. Although never stated equivocally, it was clear Klutzer was attempting to break Laurien’s hold over the young Anzat. He was inhuman, the techniques he deployed were attuned to the strengths of the Jedi. Each day before their usual training sessions with a blade, he would put him through torture by way of force lightning.

It was madness, there was no rhyme or reason, and it was a breathtakingly relentless display of power and control. There was an almost a serene look on his masters face as he tortured him, lacking neither malice nor satisfaction. The only redeeming quality about Klutzer was that he lived to find a challenge, a worthy adversary. He was a fencer, leverage, position, advantage - in a one on one match with a bladed weapon he had no rival. However, it was how he changed when he picked up a blade that was notable. Klutzer alternated between acquiring a childlike innocence and unreserved resolve. During their sparring sessions there was never anything on his mind other than the task at hand. Djuga learned quite quickly that the battle hardened warrior could only express his emotions through his blades, hence, began his intense study of Jar-kai.

They would do nothing but study for months. That mouthwatering, swatted like a fly, terror that instills inside of someone when they realize they were beaten began to overtake him. Djuga woke up that morning with tightened muscles and nearly ready to sleep for a week. The bruised ankles, the broken ribs, and the blackened eyes were not excuses his master took into account as he was training him. Left to his own devices, having been beaten to near exhaustion each day, he would have been destroyed long ago were it not for his previous Jedi education. Klutzer used to say the day had not begun until he saw him bleed. His master almost never relied too much on the force besides his almost godlike mastery of force valor, arguing that was cheating. To Klutzer an individual dual with a lightsaber was sacred, refusing to let him use anything but vibroblades.

The only time he used force lightning was in attempt to break him and forget his past entirely. That part of his instruction never stopped. That needles, crawling through every crevice, vibe that comes from being brutalized made the hairs on his arm stand up whenever Klutzer entered the room. Beyond the torture through force lightning, there were drugs injected his circulatory and autonomic systems that made it impossible to see clearly. Explaining that he was going through was for his own good. Laurien was beginning to become nothing but a memory, although at this point her grasp on him was still stronger than his fear of Klutzer. That is when he devised a new method to break him that he, honestly, never thought was a remote possibility.

That stunted, lost to the universe, aroma of sex and wanton violence enriched the room as the woman at the center of his desires entered the room, or see he thought. Anliza, Liarien, some random Twi-lex. There were droves of women who came in who were designed to seduce to him, ignoring everything else. Although unaware by him, each woman was Anliza dressed up in a different hedonistic outfit orchestrated to break him. This magnificent specimen could easily be described as nearly being Luarien's twin. She had become just another one of Klutzer's servants during her captivity, returning to him once freed. The drugs flowing through Druja's system allowed him to no push the truth to another corner of his mind. Regardless of his own desires, he was put through his paces. Some days his these sexual encounters were more torturous than pleasurable, however, eventually he had to let himself given into everything in order to survive it all.

Now 32 years old, the young Anzat almost gave into the soup. Although not without her servitude to Klutzer, Anliza was not without her humanity. She would comfort him in the middle of the night, acquiring somewhat of a romantic attachment to her. Her face would alternate between someone scared by cruelty and terror to an elegantly beautiful woman, who had walked through this detestable place and survived unscathed, and that resonated with his own sense of powerlessness. Falling in love with her was his way to cope with his situation. There were times when she would lay there in his bed just cuddling for hours to get him through the trauma. Eventually she revealed how she went through a similar experience, being a former Jedi, though she does not remember that part of her past vividly. Bonding over that relationship allowed him to come to terms with his fate. They became inseparable ever since.

Soon after however, he experienced the most intense interrogation he had ever felt before. The emotions coursing through his veins ranged from dreadful guilt, over his betrayal of Luarien, to suffering that seemed inhuman. Klutzer was never a saint, but the looking glass he gave him now was godlike terror. Dragging the young Anzat to a medical operating table in the middle night having spent in Anliza's arms was jaw dropping. Strapped to a gurney, needles were plunged into arms. Beginning almost directly afterwords was the sawing in his legs began to break his bones. Enlarging them through surgery was the excuse, though it was prominently another method to break him. That terror, instilled by the unknown, crept into every crevice of his pores. There was nowhere to run, he was witnessing hallucinations of Luarien, taunting him as he was being tortured.

Exploring his demons and his angels was the tuition of the day. Proper questions, like his name, his birthplace, his allegiance. Any answers that were contrary to the responses Klutzer wanted were met with agony. Before long force lightning attacks began to take their toll. Eventually he was so destroyed by the intensity of the attacks that it caused him to have another vision. This time it was a simulation induced by the chemicals as Klutzer made him see anything that he wanted. There he was, trapped inside his own mind, facing a completely different future than the reality he faced now. Destroying the idea that there will always be someone to save him by implanting the vision of Anliza rescuing him from this hideous torture.

Klutzer only planted that simple idea in Djuga's head. Filling in the blanks was the young Daravin's fractured mind. He saw Anliza rescue him from the facility, believing her love for him was stronger than her devotion to Klutzer. Managing to get to the Horas, though Anliza remained behind, as their engines were knocked out, they drifted for days without end. Months stuck on that operating table, were spent imagining that he was starving, forced to ration food. That grueling, sucked through a dark hole, suffocating through drowning feeling eclipsed him routinely. Convincing himself that suicide was better than living that way he decided to commit suicide. His emotions shifted between disgust, at his own weakness, to regret as he took a razor blade and slit his wrists, bleeding out on the floor. Waking up on the operating table the drugs and terror had finally wiped away all memory of his past.

Klutzer began an intense reeducation, instilling in him the idea that he was found by Klutzer, abandoned and exposed. Klutzer used images and hypnotherapy to make the young Anzat romanticize his imprisonment so that he thought he was rescued by Klutzer. The young Dark Jedi felt indebted to Klutzer now that his psychotherapy session had brainwashed him into the perfect servant. Someone unchained to the whims of either institutions or the monolithic organizations to which they are enslaved. Remaining him Thorn. Explaining to him that he had fashioned a false identity in the form of Djuga Helios. That was what his real identity was to him now - nothing but jumbled pieces of artwork that allowed him to come and go through the republic as he pleased.


(continued on next page)

[djuga]

Now 40 years old, the young Anzat walked out of the Horas as The young Anzat. No more, no less, no memories. Before he realized what had happened, he had spent the better part of ten years on the Horas, whoring, training, and being broken by Klutzer's machinations. Luarien was now nothing more than a memory, even the twenty odd years he spent with the Jedi had vanished. He emerged from his isolation and brainwashing transfigured into a new man. Druja, who was now nothing but a memory, came walking out of that ship. The second guessing, hand waving, indecisive youth had vanished in the wake of, seemingly, unending agony that would only cease once he gave up on the past. Klutzer, apparently, wanted one final test to discover where his allegiance emerged. That putrid stench, recoiling in the background, aroma of being abused and terrorized, as Luarien stood there, looking completely removed from the elegant beauty she once used to dominate him. Her face having been terribly scarred.

Being borated around the pirates one after another was the subject of the day. Certainly, it appeared as though she had gone through a similar process as the young, now, Dark Jedi. This, apparently, was another grotesque experiment. Klutzer had been fooled before and this was no different. Ordering her death by the young Dark Jedi's hands had a sense of poetry to the situation they all found themselves in. Walking the hallway of the Vericrus, the personal chariot of Klutzer, he surveyed everyone in attendance. In a time that has faded from memory, he would have once found everyone in this room detestable, however, he now wanted nothing more than their honor and respect. These pirates, these slavers, these bounty hunters, these smugglers.

Approaching Luarien with a sense of devotion to Klutzer, he raised his left arm, summoning both shotos in the stance of Jar-kai, a form now mastered over his imprisonment. Raising both of his blades seamlessly and without effort. That euphoric, like having been just inside a woman, addictive feeling washed over him, she... was gone. There was nothing, no hesitation, no remorse because Klutzer had done his work to well. That was his first kill, swelled with pride, kneeling beside his new master as he took the name the young Anzat.

Around the Dark Jedi's forty first summer he had begun working with Anliza, raiding incoming and outgoing cruisers on the fringe. Aniliza was also quite skilled in Jar-Kai, focusing his current bladed training there, of course, the young Anzat had other problems. The young Anzat, who was having nightmares about Luarian's death, had found himself crying uncontrollably. Mourning her death was a fact of life for him, although he had no inkling as to the purpose behind it. Assuredly, the young Anzat had killed more than one person during raids. Besides her face was heavily scarred so she had lost any similarities to her sister in those ten years. The memories he was experiencing, as a result of her death, were assumed, by him, to be of Anliza. One memory in particular stood out, back in the days when he was still a Jedi, though he was in civilian garbs, in this memory, they had stolen a moment, during their investigation of Klutzer.

Dazed and confused, the rays of the sun gleamed in their direction, splashing water could be heard from miles away as they lost themselves in each other, falling asleep on the beach. They would spend hours discussing who had kidnapped her sister. Exploring all possible scenarios about which bastard despot had captured her. Acknowledging that it might be a dream he all but interrogated Anliza about. Distracting him with her body until he simply carried his tasks set out to him was her usual response, but that was not always acceptable enough for him. He began looking more closely at his mentor. Klutzer was not an easy individual to investigate because everyone around him was so loyal. Knowing that no one around him would commit to any action against him he chose patience over action.

However, he was only interested in why he was upset after Luarien was murdered, but he knew his mentor was a master at deception, who would already be convinced that a falsehood real. For now he honed his skills with the force, beginning to master force valor. Learning to train against multiple opponents with Jar-kai was something Anliza valued tremendously. Facing almost a dozen opponent daily was how she trained him. Three, four, five. They usually came in waves, forcing him to think on his feet. Lunging at him with everything they had he nearly died several times. Broken ribs, sprained ankle, and fractured spine guided his path. Each injury simply meant that he needed to work harder and more frequently.

Concentrating on exploiting the knowledge he gained from the young Anzat during his brainwashing he was able to locate a transport that was likely transporting younglings on their way to Ilum. The young Anzat, who almost no piloting skills beyond casual flying, was usually only sent in once ships they were raiding were ready to be boarded. Although they did not have a specific location, these space pirates had been threatening vessels in the Cerean system for months before they finally discovered a group of younglings. Expecting there to be at least a Jedi Knight on board he was sent in to lead the boarding party. Nejera, his old master, was the Jedi ordered to protect the padowans. Because of the mask he usually wore, his identity was more than easily protected.

Unless, of course, she sensed who he was underneath that mask, however, he was no longer the same person. Even he did not remember who he was, allowing for the possibility that neither would she. That harbinger of doom, gleaming with grotesque terror, filled his mind with nerves as he approached the master Jedi. Despite not having any memory of her, she had imprinted on him. Raising his hands as he took the stance of Jar-kai forced her to take the stance of Jar-kai. Exploiting the ship as his alley the Dark Jedi propelled his body with the force in a way that never mastered while still the master's apprentice. These days his movements with force were as natural as breathing. The wind speed, the curves of his shoto, his connection to the force. The ship was just as powerful as any enemy, the bulkheads, the reams of the hull, and ceiling above their heads. Everything was his alley, the universe seem to fade away, and Nejera was the only thing standing in front of him.

It was otherworldly, the instincts that form, the young Anzat began to feel his connection to the master Jedi. Did she feel the same? That was the question on his mind moving forward. Every swing of his blades seem to reinforce the concept that he was only beginning to explore his abilities as the master Jedi overtook him. Seemingly using his own power against him, he was thrown back into the ceiling after the exchange of several blows. If not for the interference of Anliza, everything would have been for naught. Taking the form of Juyo, Nejera was taken aback by the offensive nature of Aniliza's attacks. Their faces shifted from godlike and those seen in fairy tales, as they began to move faster than he could follow, or maybe that was just his nerves from a concussion. Regaining his composure he discovered the two remaining youngling and knocking them out because there was no need for pointless murder. Acquiring their crystals in response.

Returning to see Aniliza successfully gain the upper hand and murder his former mentor gave him an intense feeling of guilt. Before disposing of the body he searched the Jedi's belongings recovering a database of older communication files. Exceedingly low on patience, he was about to throw everything out before he reviewed a file that displayed a record of his past. Unaccustomed to what laid before his eyes, he saw images before him that displayed his face. Nothing but a few notes, he read diligently what his master thought about him in the end. The defiant pupil, the fencer, the impulse. Exploring her notes revealed that while all those things define him, she thought that in the end she respected him for giving up everything for love. Something she did not have the courage to do herself. Revealing an image, what he though was Anlize listed the name of her sister, Luarien.

Returning from their raid of the Jedi convey, Anliza gave the credit to the success of the ambush to the young Anzat because she felt him wavering. As a result, he was given the task of hunting an enemy combatant that had betrayed Klutzer. Anliza, followed him to continue his training in Jar-kai, was also concerned about his behavior as of late. Although she had yet to explain anything to Klutzer, he thought they were just advancing some romantic entanglements they were keeping secret. They found themselves in the Mandalorian star system. Examining a wreckage near one of the moons orbiting the forth planet in their system had them engaged a firefight with their target.

Surveying their task amongst the endless stars took them several lightyears to discover their targets location. Accruing tremendous amounts of training in Jar'kai in the process. Discovering themselves in the Mandalorian system hunting a runaway USF-1 ShadowHawk Inteceptor. Feeling the controls of the ship were pure terror for the young Anzat. The space between spaces was the only name that adequately described the emotions racing through mind as the controls felt like they were working against him. The modules, the engine, the destruction, the terror. The power behind this machine was something that made him uneasy once he took the reins. Space was different, the vast emptiness seemed alive, his attainment to the force made it seem as though space was the thing that was moving.

Dragging his ship with its tail between its legs. It was terror, space always made him terribly distracted. Those planets, those space stations, those moons, those starships. So long as he was not in the driver seat, space seemed like a grand adventure. Anliza demanded it was long past time he acquired proper skill in the art. The badlands, the asteroid belt, the nebula, the neutron star. Arriving at the star seemed as though everything could be seen in the rearview. Hiding behind the asteroid belt was a small raiding party of Mandalorian smugglers. Masking their heat signature in the wake of atmosphere of a planet surprised the young Anzat. Disrupting the sensors of everyone involved occurred after the Dark Jedi hid in a nearby nebula.

Smoke, fog, isolation, heat waves. The situation inside the nebula was rough for the Dark Jedi. Fleeing into the nebula to avoid the smugglers had caused them to lose six months of time. That dehydrating, crawling through a dessert, squashed feeling crept into every crevice of his body. Exploring his skill with Jar-kai became his only escape from this nightmare. Becoming seamlessly natural once he summoned the blades into the palms of his hand. Anliza had decreed that he had finally mastered the art. Beginning to teach him the art of Jar-kai while they waited for the opportunity to escape the nebula unawares. Releasing probes into the system routinely alerted them to changes in the enemy’s formations. Exceedingly rare not to be shot down, the probes only ever returned sensory information about the position and vastness of the amassing fleet.

Battlecruisers, drop ships, personnel carriers, military grade interceptors. Confused, the young Anzat realized, obviously, that the Mandalorians had set a trap for their small raiding party. Confronting Anliza about the situation was illuminating because it was clear the Mandalorian fleet was chasing a ghost. Revealing that Klutzer had run afoul of the Mandalorians by stealing one of their ancient artifacts. Escaping to parts unknown with the Dark Jedi left to take the fall. That emasculating, thrown to the dogs, with a hand pulled up his back feeling resonated within the young Anzat. Livid, resentful, vengeful, heartbroken. Raising him like a lamb to slaughter was the first thought that popped into his head. Feeling betrayed, he was able to catch Anliza unawares and impulsively struck her down, though she was alive.

Poisons, torture droids, electric shock therapy, pain sticks. Pleading with him that she had no choice, but follow Klutzer's orders fell on death ears. Consumed with anger and guilt, he began flaying her alive. He was vengeful, his anger allowed him to channel his powers into force lightning for the first time. Pitiful, impotent, engaging. The power that flowed through him was both terrifying and pathetic. Tripping her heart valve as he could not control the power caused him to bleed out in front of his eyes. That serene, filled with regret, vacant expression as he stood there. Watching the last of her breath leave her caused him to snap out of the, almost, dreamlike and dazed rage that had overtaken him, she... was gone, or so he thought. Being that he knew nothing about medicine, he failed to notice she was still alive. The Mandalorians had kept her alive and proceeded to torture her for information about their missing artifacts. That would be their last meeting for decades.

Tears, guilt, tightened muscles. He wailed, the image of her bleeding out on the floor had imprinted on him. Refusing to accept her death, he blamed Klutzer. Planning to hunt him down and cut the head off the snake. Questioning even the name Thorn as real the young Anzat he decided to ride out into the fleet and accept the consequences of his actions. Sending out a white flag in the form of a communication signal was cathartic. Klutzer was probably galaxies away by now, as he explained everything to the Mandalorians. The young Anzat used Anliza's dead body as an explanation that he had been scapegoated by Klutzer. Although he was able to forestall his death, the Mandalorians sentenced him to ten years hard labor in the mines in their system. Instead, a vindictive Mabdalorian statesmen, who hated force users due to Mandalorian culture, refused to keep him in their system, selling him into slavery.

Transporting him to the Senex sector, on a Dragonhawk-class Destroyer, was his first experience being enslaved. Naturally, he attempted to release force lightning to destroy the transmitter, but something broken in him because he failed. Guilt, terror, fate. Those emotions prevented him summoning up the power needed to destroy the chip implanted somewhere in his body. Beyond his connection to the force, without a pair of lightsabers he was about as powerful as an ant that gets squashed by a bug. Locking him in a deep dark hole or satisfying their every whims were his duties for the next three months. Cleaning the ships sewage system for half a day were one if his more grotesque tasks. Servicing the female crew members, sexually, was another. Something he found detestable at first, but eventually grew to be one if his daily escapes.

Detestable, disgusting, cringe worthy, terror. Those emotions were instilled in him as her arrived in the Senex sector. Dragging his feet was the only form of resistance he could manage because of the transmitter placed somewhere on his body. Revealing the truth by murdering a slave, who had proven to be to disobedient, was he was told he could suffer the same fate. Exploding right in front of him from his was his first experience as a slave. Refusing to let him bathe for weeks was the next. Imprisoning him with no light, food, water for almost a year was them breaking him in. Expecting him to be sufficiently on their leash allowed them to put him to use. Training slavers in art of the blade were his usual routine. Surrounding him with female Twi'lek slaves to further induct him into the class of a slave.

Training the denizens of the outer rim he began to, subconsciously, let go of all of all of his restraints moving forward because the demands on him were numerous. Servicing female clients sexually became a part his responsibilities. Sometimes he was required to pleasure women for days on end, becoming something of a leash, tying him to the slavers. As his reputation as a swordsmen in the outer rim grew, he found that he was sharpening his edge. There was once an enslaved Daravin, Gotzoa, who reminded him of Anliza. Appearing before his eyes on a cold winter day brought them together as he was ordered to train her in his bladed arts.

Escaping her was not option that was available to him. Revealing that the guilt over his actions toward Anliza had not lapsed. Before the sun parted on the day they met, they had been placed in their own quarters together. Approaching the third year of his enslavement, using pipes and training swords because the slavers refused to allow real weapons, he trained Gotzoa in the art of Jar'kai in the dual wield style. Discovering that she had a natural talent for the art, once more, that she herself was force sensitive. Presumably, she had lived on the fringes her entire life. Learning that she had been prosecuted as a witch and sold into slavery because of powers angered him. Although he could not yet risk training her in the force, he honed her skills as a fencer.

Now 60 years old, the young Anzat had become a teacher. Leverage, position, advantage. Those were Gotzoa's weapons as they began to extend to something more. After training her for four years, she had acquired a natural talent that nearly rivaled his own, though she had not faced real combat. That destructive, clinging to a cliff, fear the wheel as fate turns in an ominous direction was still alien to her. Soon after however, his immediate slaver, Vagroban, required some bodyguards so the young Anzat and his student were ordered to follow him on a task to capture more slaves. Conditioned so that he had no reasons to attempt an escape, there were no plans made to do so. Arriving on an unsophisticated planet on the outer rim after three weeks of travel there was a bloody chase.

Reaching the planes on the surface of one of the moons in the Senex sector. The wind revealed an opaque dust that seem to blind their path in the wake of their drop ship landing on the ground. Unsophisticated Twi'lex villagers gave a bloody chase, but there was just no, inexplicable, scenario where the villagers could manage it. Regardless, they took the stance a seasoned warrior might have, raising their weapons. As if they expected to put up a fight, the young Anzat's skills with Jar'kai were, by now, well enough to defeat multiple untrained peasants. Enraged by being sold into slavery Gotzoa unleashed her rage unchecked against the villagers. Imagining them to be her own people that had brutalized and terrorized her. More than three dozen villagers were killed by her hand. The remainder were taken away to parts unknown.

Emerging from their most recent task brought Gotzoa and The young Anzat together romantically because he was impressed by her ruthlessness. Intrigued, it was a trait he had only just begun to experience. However, in her he someone who had unparalleled rage. Discovering that she might be a tool that he could use to escape this dreadful place. Seducing her into his bed was the best maneuver he could think of to achieve that outcome. Love, sex, revenge. None of these things were on the top of his head as much as his search for power. Beginning over the next few months his campaign had succeeded because of her intense need to acquire his skills with a blade. Before long they were scheming, making grand plans to escape the grasp of slavers. Although it might take years, training about half a dozen slaves in secret was their response. Hoping to use them to steal and escape on an interceptor.

Leaping from a cliff, running across a field, and being graced by gunfire. Burgeoning into uncharted territories with this maneuver was exhilarating. Valerian, Botrzu, Raevok, Koltzan, Gradean. The young Anzat sensed that each of them were force sensitive. Those names of the slaves he knew that had been treated the worst by far from the slavers. Exploiting them to escape was his ultimate goal at this point. Acquiring permission from the slavers be enticing them to the power of Dark Jedi under their control, though less the powers of the force and lightsabers. Exploring their training over the next four years were among his primary concerns. Earning their loyalty with the promises of freedom allowed them to become the most obedient warriors the slavers had known in ages. Impressed, under the control of slave ships, they would send them out on tasks throughout the sector.

Sending out The young Anzat and his knights to the outer rim to destroy a space station and transport its denizens as slaves was their task. Engaging the station was easy because they had caught them by surprise, but that does not mean there was no resistance. Jahaq, the Twi’lex Jedi he met on his trip to Ilum, who not, for a moment, thought of since. The republic solders, the slavers, the civilians. They all vanished, to his concentration, the moment their eyes met. His knights began handling the republic soldiers, forging ahead without them. Jahaq swore there was somewhere he had seen the Dark Jedi before, but simply could not place a finger on it. Attempting to destroy the Jedi knight he took the stance of Jar-kai. Forcing his opponent to respond in the form of the backhanded style. Instinctively, the young Anzat allowed the force to flow through him using force valor.

The bulkheads, the hanger, the ship. They were his Alley. It was spectacular, their battle seemed to go on for hours. Neither individual would give the other an inch. Gotzoa’s screams knocked him out of his near trance their battle induced in him. Bleeding to death on the floor of the station gave the young Anzat the upper hand. Gifting him proper access to control force lightning again. Destroying the chips implanted in the bodies of his knights and distracted Jahaq enough for one of his knights to end the battle. Before the young Anzat realized what had happened, everyone, including the slavers, were dead. Save for a single survivor that was unable to see his knight’s faces during the battle. Word began to spread about their exploits after they stole a light Republic class cruiser and escaped to the fringes in the outer rim. Becoming known as the Knights of Slaver’s Bay because Slaver’s Bay was the name of the station that they slaughtered. Among the wreckage were about a dozen deceased Mandalorians, allowing them to take their battle armor and supplies. Additionally, the young Anzat and his knights were able to acquire lightsabers from the Jedi they killed.

Escaping on a ship they traveled the galaxy has he had begun their training in the force. Those first months into their trip were largely spent meditating and allowing their connection to the force to grow stronger. Valeria, who was a Twi'lex, was quite more advantaged with the force than the young Anzat ever was. Exceedingly well aware of that fact, her arrogance grew to monstrous heights. In spite of that fact, he was impressed by the way she just let loose and let her instincts guide her. Her control of force lightning was much more subtle and in control than his own. Taking his lead now only because his power and experience could be leveraged against her, but he knew that the moment he showed signs of weakness. Forcing him to develop a much thicker skin than what he was used to. If they had been trained together, he thought he might followed a more sensitive path.

Primarily, he trained her for the first five years as his successor. Leaving the others to work on their training in Jar-kai after teaching them the basics. Propelled by her anger, he saw in Valeria someone who could inspire the others. Molding her into his perfect animal was something that he found cathartic. Stripping her of all of her belongings and clothes, he threw her into a deep dark hole within the ship. Flooding her with poisons and nanotechnology that was in an effort to break her mind. With her over dependence on the force, her body seemed easy to break, but she still fought back. Following with using force lightning to flay her alive he thought she would break without issue. Eventually he used the same neurogenic weapons that were once used on him to suggest memories.

Beginning with a sedative to knock her out the poison began to do its work. The poison lets the user experience their most painful memory. Using force lightning he made her mind react to the trauma in a very retroactive fashion. The result made pliable to most of his whims. Suggesting that she place her hands in boiling water was the first terror he put her through. Electroshock therapy, poisoned needles, tightened muscles, pain sticks. Inducing the process over and over until she lost her memory and he could preclude a new identity. Releasing her from her torment he gave her the name Ordos. Preforming the procedure on the others gave them new identities. The remaining Knights of Slaver's Bay became, respectively, Ryoto, Slade, Lorcas, and Venac.

Finding their way to Kovath took a bit of a detour had thrown their ship from its intended destination. Honestly, the young Anzat had altered ships course, where rumored space pirates might give his knights a challenge. Altering the sensors to display an ion storm convinced his knights that the damage to the ship was accidental. Attending to the situation was not something the young Anzat had in mind when he arrived in the sector, formerly controlled by pirates. Landing their assault cruiser found themselves ambushed by rival dark Jedi. Anger, hatred, fear, instinct. Those emotions ruled their power and they unleashed it, the Knights of Slaver's Bay. Impressed, the young Anzat watched his knights unravel their enemies, as they carved out a bloody path to be remembered. Then everything changed.

The ground almost shifted beneath their feet. Appearing, almost otherworldly, hidden from within the forest in the clearing was clearly meant for the young Anzat. Leaving his knights to deal with the fodder allowed him to follow the Dark Jedi into the forest. Ominous, relaxing, intense. Hidden behind a mask, the young Anzat took to the field. Clearly at a disadvantage, he took a page about the book Ordos played with. Refusing to wait for honor or respect he attempted to launch his lightsaber at his enemy. Launching force lightning immediately following that assault. Gone were the days that thought he still had to fight fairly. The rival Dark Jedi was wounded in his left arm. Fighting slower after that. Acquiring the drop on his opponent even the playing field, but the battle was hardly over.

No bulkheads, no ship, no hull. Exceedingly low on support, his instincts led him to take the stance of Jar'kai. Observing the stance of Jar-kai by his opponent took him a bit by surprise. Under normal circumstances the rival Jedi would have completely overwhelmed him. The strengths of his attacks were astonishing. After the exchange of several blows, his opponent slowed down long enough for the young Anzat to put an end to his antics. Throwing his lightsaber was his opponent's last ditch effort to survive. Bleeding from the back of his left side of his neck left a scar to always remind him that the fight isn't over until his opponent was dead. Vowing to never give an enemy that chance again he sliced through his head without a moment's hesitation. In some ways, before that moment, he had yet to cross every line. However, the dark side took him further into the dark side. The acceptance of his own mortality changed him.

Realizing they were on Tatooine changed everything because the Hutts had captured them. Learning they were the Knights of Slaver's Bay initiated a change of venue. The Hutts offered them some careers as mercenaries, otherwise, the Hutts would have murdered them on the spot. Accepting the offer for the group was a transition that did not seem to go over well, though his knights still followed him because they feared him. Instilling that in them during their brainwashing. Regardless, they began committing assassins for hire. The Hutts even supplied them with six USF-1 ShadowHawk Inteceptors to get by unawares, adding a Sith carrier ship and a crew to go with it. Their tasks took them as far as Coruscant. The bargain he made with his knights was to continue their training, if they hunt Klutzer. Routinely, he would mentor one of them during the other's investigation.

Becoming Mercenaries after their escape from slavers was the decision made by the Knights of Slaver's Bay. Working for the Hutts was their primary form of occupation. Most of The young Anzat's time was spent on Tatooine as a result. The young Anzat, in particular, was attempting to locate Klutzer. Their bargain was that in exchange for teaching them the ways of the force they search the galaxy for Klutzer's whereabouts. Beginning his task of studying the backhanded form of Jar-kai was his own task anytime he got the chance. Decreasing with frequency, were those opportunities, because of his investigation into Klutzer. His knights had sent word that they had been interrogating a woman based on the information he had given them.

Purchasing passage on a freighter, he headed for Coruscant. Exhaustion, boredom, vengeful. The young Anzat began reviewing everything remembered about the past seventy years. Assuredly, things were a bit fuzzy. Then came the Pirate King, no... Klutzer was his name. Because he no longer feared the man, his real name should now be used. After arriving in the system, he donned Manadalorian battle armor, as he found his way to the less civilized portions of Coruscant. Dressed in the same Mandalorian battle armor, the Knights of Slaver's Bay stood there having interrogated a woman by force lightning for days. Revealing the woman to be Anliza was disturbing to the young mercenary.

Remaining calm in the wake of her experience was difficult because he thought she was dead. Shock, impulse, reserve, vengeance. Numbing those emotions down, putting up a stoic face, as he caressed her shoulders and then stood in front of her. Dripping down her neck was sweat, stemming from days of torture. Alienated in that room for who knows how long saw her devastated the moment she saw him. Exhaustion prevented her committing to any accusations, but the look on her face was pure terror. Ordering his knights to leave the room he removed his helmet for the first time. Powerless, she reached out her hand. Expecting him to slap it away might have been the proper course, but he with a compassion he thought was lost he... embraced her. Willing to throw everything aside for her was the urge that began to overtake him.

Releasing her from the constraints as he promised set her free was a surprise to his knights, however, that was not the end of the story. Attempting to gain her trust so she would lead him to Klutzer was clear. Hoping that his knights would see that and act accordingly. Expecting them to play their part he motioned for his lightsaber. Following his lead was Ordos, naturally, attacking him with everything she had to bring to bear. Unleashing his own instincts as the other knights joined in. Knowing their weaknesses allowed him to adequately fend them off, but they were refusing to hold back. Preventing him from determining their position, of course, to really digest it was that they did not kill him. Assuming that they read his motivations perfectly was proper course of action to be able to continue on this path.

Dropping her off at a black market doctor he refused to leave her side. Perhaps it was the task at hand or childhood memories, but he knew she would find it suspicious should she wake up with him nowhere to be found. Desperate for an answer to this quandary, he took the risk during her usual sleeping patterns. Revealing to his knights what happened. Explaining that they were well aware and had been waiting for further orders. Discovering that they had been completing any assignments they received from the Hutts in the meantime. The young Anzat then illustrated the plan as he envisioned it. Convincing his former employers that he was still their underling and that nothing had changed.

Ordering them to go dark until he gave them the prearranged signal from where he ended up. Implanting a tracker underneath his skin was the plan. Explaining that he knew that it would eventually go dark. That would be the order for them to move in, regardless, of how long he had gone dark. Rushing back to the black market hospital, he had the tracker implanted near a kidney because he figured he could afford to lose a kidney should anything happen. Returning to her bedside seemed like kismet because she woke almost the moment he sat down beside her. Acting like he had been sitting there just reading her books beside her bedside made her terribly grateful. The look on her face alternated from fear to readiness, and converging on dedication. As she agreed to lead him to Klutzer, she caressed his hands before leaning in for a kiss, like no time had passed between them at all.

Revealing that their journey would take six long years because the Klutzer’s ship always moved regularly. Belated by their time apart, she was so grateful for her rescue that both their sexual relationship and training resumed. Jarkai, the backhanded form, was what she began teaching him in the wake of their departure on a Corellian freighter that was heading in the right direction. Concerned over her lack of resentment, he began to wonder the likelihood that he was walking into a trap. The seduction, the resolve, the gutlessness. These were all factors that played into his mistrust of her behavior, but there were times that he thought she was living in the past, as they laid together in their quarters. Sometimes she would remark about times before her torture by the Mandalorians like she was still there. Remarking about her murder of Nejera like it was yesterday.


(continued on next page)

[djuga]

Now 80 years old, it seemed like the young Anzat might be on some foolish crusade. Some twelve months into their Journey they boarded a Twi'lex vessel heading to the outer rim. The nebulas, the gas giants, the spatial anomalies. These familiar instances made the young Anzat behave under the perception that Anliza was taking them to Mandalore, but he assuming he was just being paranoid. Stunning him was the one instance that she broke out of her almost trance like state. Describing her torture by the Mandalorians was worse than anything he had experienced or induced to date. The droids, the claws, the terror. Exaggerating her experience was clear because he was sure that she did not remember what really happened. Regardless, her trauma was and real making him wonder. Was he on some wild goose chase?

Continuing his training, after two more years of travel, he had reached intermediate education status with Jar-kai. Revealing that most people did not go this far into the outer rim they landed on a planet on the edge of the outer rim. Working a few mercenary tasks for clients in order to afford a ship because his assets were tied up elsewhere. Besides the act he was playing for Anliza required a certain amount of hardship. Mabeal, who was Wookiee marauder, required a skilled assassin. Speaking Mabeal's native tongue well enough Anliza made most of the arrangements. Mabeal had hired a raiding party to hijack a Corellian battlecruiser carrying some important political figure in the outer rim. Being incredibly vague was something he was used to in this line of work so he did not examine anything too closely.

Tracking down the ship would take a further few years. The young Anzat would sit with Anliza growing concerned for her welfare, as though she were deteriorating faster and faster. Whispering in his ears about the terrible things that Klutzer had done to her in their time a part. There was just nothing she could adequately put into words. The scars on her writs were something that she had seemingly done to herself, but the look of terror in her eyes when she spoke his name made his mind wander through every possible scenario.

Beginning with the operating table was the most dreadful idea he had. Scalpels, bone saws, inversion fields. Imagining her being repeatedly cut into and sown up infected his dreams. Pushing her torture into the corner was the way he was able to sit through the day. Seemingly, the only thing that ever brought her back to reality to was his weapons training. That trance like state that seems to only affect fencers seemed to calm ground her. Before he realized it, another year had gone by and had they were closer to their target than ever. Beaming with the guilt of having tortured her consumed him. Refusing to accept the idea that she was in this state because of him was maddening. Near the farthest edges of the outer rim, they had finally reached their target.

Exiting from hyperspace found themselves surround by an entire battle fleet full of starfighters that surrounded the battlecruiser. Knocking their freighter’s engines prevented them from escaping, as they were boarded. There he was, Klutzer, he was the dignitary that had that the wookiee was attempting to murder. Being that the young Anzat had left behind his lightsabers, he was in no position to defend himself. Relying on his knights was the only possible move he had left to play. Expecting they might appear once the tracker in his abdomen was still sending out a signal, or if they would receive this far out. Regardless, that should be the prearranged signal they set up. Removing his helmet from his battle armor left Klutzer taken aback completely.

Being curious about where he has been, Klutzer put his former student right back in his box. By this point the tracker had been deactivated, but kept on his person. Interrogating him for nearly two years caused him to think his knights had abandoned him and he began to give into the pain. Traveling back into the core systems on his Corellian battlecruiser, Klutzer was surprised when there was a firefight on board, but technical equipment he was using to torture him had malfunction. Resulting in the loss of memory all over again. Releasing him from his cage was Anliza, who had regained her sanity during his captivity. Carrying him into an escape pod because she was unaware the Knights of Slaver’s Bay were under his command.

Following into an escape pod they eventually found themselves on Tatooine where she did not tell him about his abilities or his past, though she brought his Mandalorian armor along. Dressing him in the armor in case anything regrettable occurred. Although the harshness of their crash landing on Tatooine had other ideas, even with his mask, he was terribly scared and surgeons on Tatooine had to remove his skin and graph a replacement. Because he had no funds to pay for the operation, he was placed in indentured servitude. Regardless, he still acquired a completely different face. Punishment for his involvement in her predicament.

Because of his past with the order, no one in the core worlds would likely advance that information freely. Anliza purchased him black market identity information that was past all but the most secure background checks. Boarding on a transport vessels to parts unknown the first chance received. Before her departure, however, she was able to get him a position working for a black market mechanic. Although his instincts and knowledge of his swordsmanship skills were intact, there was no one to inform of such skills so it never occurred to him.

Finding himself living under the name Thadeus Bradley, The young Anzat began working as a black market mechanic learning to repair droids. Possessing no memory of the last ninety years he had become a completely new man. Believing that he had recently been in an explosion in the droid factory on Coruscant. Tiberius, who was a Duros, had spent the last two years teaching him the repair, creation, and modification of astrodroids and battledroids. Certainly, he was still learning, but he was developing quite the knack for repairing most droids he came across. Tearing things a part and putting them together again gave him untold hours of excitement. The terror, the frayed nerves, the opportunity. Everything he felt for his previous lives felt like nothing more than a dream.

Working basically as a janitor was something the young Anzat found detestable. Clean the gutter and sewage reclamation systems when droids broke down or needed to be decommissioned. Once he was stuck in the most putrid smelling container for days repairing one of the astro droids. Bleeding from his hands were common with how many droids he had to repair each day. Sometimes he was assigned to smuggler ships for short runs off world. Repairing and maintaining their droids he was practically invisible to them, but on one occasion he was assigned by his employer to a long term deep space assignment because the crew needed a top notch operator in the outer rim. He thought, as far as he knew, he had never been off world before so why not.

Signing that contract turned out to be the worst mistake he could have thought for the young man. The young Anzat was cooking and cleaning every part of the ship for weeks on end. Refusing him shore leave because there was too much work to be done. Losing his memory a second time seemed to affect his mind more than anything he could dream up. The young Anzat had begun missing the angles that were once so easy to see. Missing the fine prints in contracts just seemed like icing on the cakes. Whats worse is that he seemingly lost the will to resist his enemies and simply took everything that was thrown his direction. Beaming right in front of him attacks he would have executed someone for previously. Burgone, an infamous slaver, was a Hutt that had enslaved him all over again.

Repairing and modifying his droids were part of his enslavement that he found dreadful because he had no freedom. Harsh were the days ahead, as he would sit in a factory shipyard with thousands of other workers. There work schedules were almost inhuman levels of torture. Almost as though some karmic injustice was be served as the universe swallowed him whole, forgetting he existed. That is what it felt like to the young Anzat, as he toiled away in the shipyards somewhere in the outer rim territories. Forcing him into the mud and the dirt where their boots were firmly placed on their throats. Before he knew it, six years had gone by building droids in the outer rim. Eventually, he was assigned to a female supervisor, Lorilat, who was a Zygerrian that was a bit enlightening.

Burgeoning on the burden of discovery, Lorilat had taken his attentions entirely. That being said, after learning about his skills with repairing, modifying, and constructing droids, she removed him from the droid factory. Exploring the creation of her own unique battle droids was the task she set him upon. Something that eclipsed anything he had committed to on previous occasions. Requesting that he build her a personal astro droid that could easily suit her needs. Providing him with a workshop and any tools he could think up. Beginning to have him taught non-linear isomorphic artificial intelligence programming so he could be of more use to him. Much of his time was spent with Petryov, who was a male zabrak, genius programmer and mathematician.

Following their introduction his first year was spent studying advanced mathematics. Differential equations, matrices, fractal calculus, non-linear equations. Attempting to learn advanced mathematics was something that came naturally to the young mechanic. Spending time understanding a single equation or different way of thinking was grueling. Problem solving skills was something that he thoroughly enjoyed. Sacred, exciting, generous, decisive. Those feelings instilled in him any time a math problem was placed in front of him. Balancing the equation was something that fulfilled him in a way that he had never felt before. Computing mathematics was soothing. Calming him in a way that he had never been before.

Spatial recognition patterns, dutronic neural pathways, non-linear programming. Learning that patterns seem natural to the young Anzat. Programming neural links and connections were some of his more difficult lessons. Matrix hyper drive theories were all, seemingly, skills he would have never thought to learn. Before long another two years went by as he began studying machine code at its most fundamental levels. Studying his individual lessons with Petryov involved numerous lessons in advanced mathematics before he was given any real world tasks. Everything he was given was always on a simulation in his study. Accommodating this was his personal astro droid, PT-5, an archival astro droid that was stolen from the republic, though all of its sensitive information was wiped. He spent another three years learning mathematics and programming.

Essentially, in all that time he had been programming the software for the droid because Lorilat had requested specific personality quarks in the droid. Programming was one of those unique skills he found fascinating. After all why do something that could easily be done by a droid in this day and age. The droids personality was finalized and he was beginning to build the chassis in the same way he learned at the droid factory. Rounding out the design took even more time than the he imagined. Square, octagon, cone, spherical. Endless builds could lead to a completely differently designed machine than had otherwise been dreamed up before. Purchasing beaten up astro droid and placing the artificial intelligence inside was the next step. Testing its intermediary form to iron out any problems.

Bridging the gap between man and machine was his astromech droid, PK-5. Despite all of his hard work, his programming turned out to be exceptionally poorly written because it seemed to only have motor functions as soon as he activated it. Deviating from the norm gave him the droid only fine motor controls and Neurol Linguistic Programming. Requiring him to teach it everything the droid knew about the universe, so to speak. The young Anzat was able to convince Loriat to fund his trek traveling around the galaxy because she believed her droid required it. Sitting in a radio room on board a Hutt battlecruiser was among his latest duties. Coincidentally, he was on the same battlecruiser that was given to the Knights of Slaver's Bay.

Waiting there watching the screen day after day was his duties. The command crew, the janitors, the soldiers. The power and control, that overwhelming animosity, that comes with deciding someone's fate. Certainly, not everything was in his hands, but he could delete camera recordings or edit them before they were sent up the ladder. Before long he would let PK-5 decide their fate by connecting the droid to the networked systems. Digging through the footage became one of his more engaging activities on the shop. Because of the dozens of meters of hull in between them, the Knights of Slaver's Bay were unable to sense his connection to the force. Recording the crew led him to discovering an underground gambling tournament that he began to visit frequently.

That exhilarating, walking on hot coals, fighting for his life feeling washed over him. The mercenaries, the smugglers, the assassins. Although he was clearly afraid them, there was also a part of him that felt extremely well connected to them. About a few months into his gambling habit he was a final match of a poker tournament against Taral, who a Zabrak who won nearly all of his matches, but the young Anzat had begun to see things before they happened. Most of the time it was just the outcome of a hand, betting accordingly. Eventually he had won everything Taral owned besides a pair of lightsabers. Convincing him to bet those blades for a chance to win everything back.

Aces, kings, queens, hearts. Easily overcoming Taral made him terribly enraged. His instincts took over. The lightsabers flew into his hands and his muscles took over, as Taral lunged at him. Like meeting a lover separated by lifetimes, his muscles remembered his training. Although he was a bit clumsy from, having not used his training in over a decade, Taral was able to fight on equal footing. It was gambit of experience against the young Anzat's instinct. Barely able to deflect the approaching blaster fire, his arms were slightly burned. Enraged, his anger gave him the power to overcome his enemy. Boasting that no novice could have so easily bested him, the zabrak squired away with his tail between his legs. Not long after that incident he was approached by the Knights of Slaver's Bay.

Around the time he was approached by the Knights of Slaver's Bay not a single one of them recognized him as their master. By this time he had been on their ship for five years working their radio room. The young Anzat had simply changed too much to be considered their master so it never occurred to them. Offering him a chance to them he refused. Instinctively, he knew they would reach for their lightsabers because of their past, though it was only instinct for him. Forming the stance of Jar-kai like he had done so for the entirety of his existence with slavers. Circling him they acted, like a pack of wolves, a pound of flesh made the young Anzat cringe, like he was their meat. His former knights seemed to recoil as they saw him take his unique stance not seen for nearly two decades. Their hesitation allowed him to gain the upper hand and catch a few of them unawares. Their lives flowed away, like sipping a cup of tea.

Remaining around him were four of the fiercest warriors he had ever seen. The resolve, the power, the violence. Their hesitation had vanished. Refusing to hold back in the wake of his, apparent, skill. Wounding another fatally, his control returned, after the exchange of a few more blows took him where he needed to go. Eventually, the last two knights gained the upper hand through a series of under handed and deadly techniques designed to keep him alive. The young Anzat was thrown into a deep dark hole. Drowning, suffocation, electric shock. Torturing him in an attempt to break his mind had gone on for about two years. The same procedures he was enacted on them. Because of his time among the Hutts, his resolve saved his mind from being fractured. Long enough for PK-5 to rescue him and get him to a USF-1 ShadowHawk Inteceptor, allowing him to escape to hyperspace.

Traveling through hyperspace seemed wondrous to the young Antaz. The darkness, the stars, the controls. Reaching puberty in the darkness of seemed mind altering. Running out of food was the primary junction point. Feeling his muscles tighten as the weeks rolled out was maddening. Dispensing the last of his fuel as he followed a shooting star caused him to drift until he was found by the, now, Dark Jedi master Koufu, who had originally discovered him on home world, as a newborn infant. Koufu used the force to slow down his heart beat because he thought he might be a worthy apprentice, saving his life.

Now 100 years old, he was back in the hands of slavers, of a kind. Dragging him to the outer rim in the Jaemus star system took about a year. Koufu had him receive medical attention in a black market practice, however, his wounds took him almost a year to heal. Leaving him in the hands of a cantina owner so his skills with a lightsaber could be trained up, but he was obviously rusty. Mavegrec, who was a Cerean, owned an underground fight club that Koufu placed him in as an indentured servant. The rays of the sun, the sweat on his cheek, and the sound of skulls bashing their heads together was how he woke up the next morning. Thinking he was half dead was a wakeup call. Handing him a pair of lightsabers he was tossed in the ring. Watching him from the audience was Koufu. Because they had not crossed paths in a century, the young Anzat would not recognize him at all.

Blood, guts, adrenaline. That was the first thing he noticed about the Zabrak standing in front of him. More than pain the back of his neck, was the seething viper facing him. Understanding that this was a life or death situation put him on edge. Forgetting the fact that the last thing he remembered was being in a ship unnerved him. Looking around for any sign that this might be a joke was disheartening. Knowing that there was no reply as his eyes wandered aimlessly. Missing the horn that begun the match, because of that distraction a moment ago, caused him to be slashed across the chest by the Zabrak. Nearly killing the boy, the zabrak went in for the kill. Fighting back after realizing his death was imminent caused him to lunge at the zabrak in a kamikaze maneuver that reeked of desperation allowed him to gain the upper hand.

Surprising the Zabrak allowed him to summon his lightsaber that had been knocked to the ground slashing the Zabrak in the chest. Killing him without thinking he thought he would be released, but all he heard were wales of terror. Knocking him unconscious were guards as he was beaten half to death because he did not wait for the order to end the man’s life. Learning from other contestants that fight club was backed by an unknown party, but in truth Koufu had helped, among others, to fund the sport, hoping to discover an apprentice among them. Designing the fights so that whoever won ten straight tournaments would have all of their debts cleared and released. Electrified fences kept the prisoners from simply escaping.

Realizing that the fights were rigged so that no one ever got that far. Koufu expected him to fight his way out, planning to collect him after either killing Mavegrec or simply beating the odds. Either outcome was acceptable to Koufu. Before long four years went by that had allowed him to hone all of the skills he acquired in the previous matches. They had all returned to him as though he had never lost them. Rumblings that he had gone undefeated in three consecutive tournaments had wrought more and more contestants every day.

Wine, drink, woman. Escaping in them were a distraction as he found himself all but enslaved to another master. Existing in one fight or another until he simply had enough brought him to the decision to put an end to Mavegrec. Setting in motion a chain of events that would lead him back to Koufu. Attempting to convince his fellow contestants not to fight was his first step. Refusing him because they stated that has already long been tried. Murdering all of the contestants was the result of previous attempts.

Watching his next few matches would show him the way out of this situation entirely. Peotnal, who was a Draethos, had competed in just about as many matches as the young Anzat. Remaining undefeated was his primary concern to keep the momentum going. Creeping into every crevice of his pores was the fear after witnessing Poetnal's latest victory. Fighting with such skill and intensity that could not possibly exist. Letting everything go and giving into his instincts would best describe the match that played out in his head. Then, of course, nothing ever went as planned. The Draethros laid down his swords after realizing how his opponents eclipsed his own skills with a blade.

Responding with advanced martial arts that seem to give him the upper hand. Although he could overwhelm his opponents, his hands nearly made him bleed to death, after getting by the blades, but the Draethros came out of that match alive. Abandoning his blades and simply using his body as a weapon was not a scenario he ever considered before. Knowing that some of the inmates might need sword training he offered it in exchange for martial arts training. Meeting Boev, a human, through one of the other prisoners allowed him to begin training in the martial arts form of Teras Kasi. Although unused to unarmed combat, he quickly discovered that as long he was fighting someone he felt connected to something.

Training martial arts in between his matches was difficult. Eating, sleeping, socializing. Everything else that mattered, besides training, seemed to cease to exist. Developing his speed day by day each with each sparring session gave him more of an edge. Some particular matches stayed with him though. Failing to anticipate one of Boev's strikes cost him two broken ribs because he was not paying attention. His education continued on in that matter for a further four years before obtained intermediate skill in the art. Eventually he was scheduled for a match against Poetnal in the next few weeks. Terrifying was the only emotion that could describe how felt about facing him.

Running away was something that he would have attempted had the option been available to him. However, his resolve would be forged after one last training session with Boev. Equivocally stating that he knew he was about to take his last match. The young Anzat mistakenly thought he meant Boev was escaping the fight club because he was so much well trained than himself. Boev began teaching a technique invited by him that used an opponent's strength against them. Taking the stance he had seen many times. Raising his hands almost as though he was prepared to strike his heart. Boev lunged at his young student, after a few successfully exchanged blows, placing his thighs around his arms and legs. The young Anzat could tell that Boev was holding back because the pressure on his neck was enough to easily break it, but he chose another option.

Approaching the arena floor a few weeks later Boev faced the Draethros that was still undefeated. The rage, the anger, the fear. Attuning to both contestants as they exchanged blow after blow before dropping their weapons was astonishing. Realizing they were evenly matched as their blows refused to land a single match. Understanding suddenly that he because Boev was so much older in more frail that, eventually, he would surrender to his demise. Watching their bout continue was mind numbingly upsetting. It was one thing to not realize he was going to die, but something altogether different to walk into a situation knowing they were going to die.

That was something the he could not abide. Most situations had always retained the slightest chance of success. Sacrificing his life to accomplish a task was something he found laughable. He never needed to know the outcome of his scheming, but knowing the outcome seem to instill terror in him. Then it happened, the ground shifted beneath its feet, Boev... was gone. The young Anzat watched hopelessly as his only alley had his heart stopped with several blows to the chest. He was enraged, his second guessing and fear had finally vanished in the wake of revenge. Love, friendship, partnership. Those things mattered not to the young Anzat. Destroying his perhaps only means of escape gave him a clarity of pure anger that he had never felt before. Death, mayhem, suffering. Those were the tools he decided grasp as the rungs on the ladder to his escape.

Refusing to give into his hunger, however, was something he had struggled with as long has he has remembered. Considering doing it now against the Draethos was something he found utterly detestable. Forming those connections for the first time might come to change everything about him. Wrestling with his decision over the next several months made his will to resist his hunger more and more unchecked. His most recent match was scheduled against an Ithorian, who had him quite outclassed. Beginning to give into his hunger might be the only way he would survive this place. Before his causes had always prevented this development.

The Jedi, Klutzer, the Knights of Slaver's Bay. Although unawares by him anymore, those causes always satiated his hunger. Free of those causes he found that his more animal instincts began to take hold. Leading into his match against the Ithorian he let his name escape him. Seething with the desire to taste the soup for the very first time seemed to creep into every fiber of his pores. His opponent seemed lightyears away, forcing him on his back as a result. The animal inside of him had made him lose all control with the crowd about to decide his fate. That certainty allowed him to regain his composure and sweep the legs of the Ithorian, while the Ithorian thought the match was over.

Acquiring the upper hand in that match gained the attention of Koufu once more, who watched carefully as the hunger took hold. Stopping him was tasting the soup the guards that once again nearly beat him to death, but Koufu decided that he was to undergo his training as his new apprentice, releasing him because he funded the fight club. Koufu had him drugged and placed on his ship, the Alexandria. Koufu decided begin honing his skills as a swordsmen and martial artist, while making him a bounty hunter.

Love, hate, forgiveness, addiction. They all have their place, which was something becoming readily apparent to the young Anzat. Training began to preclude blasters, sniper rifles, and automatic projectile weapons. Sitting on the Alexandria he was greeted by PK-5, who had remained with Koufu, practicing his marksmanship against several battle droids. Realizing he was clumsy with a blaster was his first lesson. Resulting in getting burned blasters leaving the left side of his right arm heavily burned. Forcing him to depend more and more on his left arm when engaged in combat. The incident where he was not paying attention to the droid had cost him dearly. Remembering never to underestimate such machines too readily.

Engaging in sniper training was something he preferred, though he was barely beginning his education in the art. Hunting was never something he experienced before so it was surprise that it came so easily. Targeting droids from miles away became second nature after about another two years of training. The targets never stood still and they always fought back. Sometimes he was stuck behind a bulkhead of the ship for hours learning the necessary tactics to overtake the droids often took him months to learn the appropriate maneuvers. Eventually, though, he could hit a target from 2000 yards away using an advanced scope, of course, his training involved a spotter that relayed the targets position. PK-5 took over that responsibility. Still, Koufu determined that he had only acquired average skill in the art.

Before long he started including training that honed skills in the weapons training he, clearly, already possessed. Lessons against battle droids lasted, sometimes, for months. Emerging on one simulated battlefield after another. Acquiring the same instincts he once had took time. Two years of training followed where he did practice technique after technique. Engaging in one maneuver for hours at a time returned him to a time before he had lost his memories. They, of course, were not his memories, but his feelings about them. They seemed to infect every fiber of his pores, as he regained his old acquaintance with a blade. Most everything was more meditation than learning how to hit a target or swing a sword.

More than technique he needed to respond appropriately to the dangers of war. That is what Koufu always spouted out at him as they sparred. Training weapons were never used because Koufu always thought that was like cheating. Following his honing of his other skills he began mastering Jar-kai again. Although he had the instincts of someone who had mastered the art there was no control. Koufu began a rigorous process aboard the Alexandria. Droids, mercenaries, assassins. Koufu had acquired several contacts that, on a regular basis, would send into the ship to kill him for further training. They were almost always expert swordsman. Prevok, who was a Wookie, was one such assassin.

Prevok was sent in repeatedly over years to kill him. Sleep, dehydration, hunger. Koufu would often force those states on him through the training methods used in the Teras Kasi that was designed to break his body. Following that Prevok would challenge him to deadly duel to the death, of course, Koufu always pulled him away before long, but that was hardly the point. Koufu wanted learn how far the young Anzat would go. The young Anxat suspect that he was being pushed to give into his anger and enjoy the soup - the sucking out of brain matter. It took everything in the young Anzat to hold himself back. Before long another three years had passed in his training of Jar-Kai. Thinking he might have acquired the control he was after, Koufu challenged the young Anzat to a duel.

The bulkheads, the palpable atmosphere, the droids. Everything seemed dead in his quarters as Koufu seemed possessed as he was attacked by his master. Ignoring anything he had seen from his master in years previous brought him to stalemate. Wondering what he had done wrong caused rippled through his mind. Had been led like a pig to slaughter, or was this another training session? Fearing that his master crept into his pores as his muscles seemed to tighten in response. Lunging at his master in the stance of Jar-Kai was his counterattack as his master had the advantage. Remembering as he did his master's skill with a blade seemed to channel his rage into Koufu's lightsaber seemed to have a will of their own. Attempting to strike his master in the slash seemingly ended the game. After a few more exchange of blows, his master returned to senses, as though he was just a play ting.

Throwing him into ceiling as his master walked out leveled him with several more questions than answers. Continuing his training as though that night never occurred wrought more rigorous education. Increasing his education by keeping him from sleeping, using drugs, he also had practiced his sword techniques for days at a time without resting or eating. The assassination attempts also continued. Eventually another three years passed and another challenge from a master of Jar-Kai, Ordos, who had tracked the young Anzat down after all this time. Koufu sent her in knowing then that one of them were about to be killed. Although the young Anzat did not remember, the hatred was clear on Ordos' face.

Now 120 years old, it seemed the young Anzat was finally free of his enslavement. The ambient light, the vacant hallways, the almost dead silence. The ominous atmosphere seemed to increase with every step, as he looked out into the observatory. Wondering the course of a wayward asteroid seemed to interest him, as Ordos struck him with a blade. Catching him unawares removed him from his trance as he took his unique form of Jar-Kai. Ordos and the young Anzat were evenly matched with the blade. Exchanging a round of blows made that fact entirely certain. However, that meant that the fight would end up being one of the most challenging that he had ever faced before. Throwing her lightsaber in a form of combat was illuminating. She was nearly on top of him, as he deflected the blade.

(continued on next page)

[djuga]

Force lightning from her struck him in response. Knocking him unconscious all but nearly destroyed him, but she was interested in inflicting untold suffering before his death. Blasting him with either force lightning or torture by chargin was one of her more colorful tricks. Her bloodlust was distracting for her, allowing him to gain the upper hand by sweeping her beneath her feat. Summoning his lightsabers she fell to the ground with a strike to the abdomen. Questioning about the reasons she hated someone she never met caused him to kneel by her dying body. Placing her bloodstained hand on his cheek she whispered that he had murdered their family, the Knights of Slaver's Bay, arguing that she had nothing to live for after that.

Following that event Koufu declared that he had mastered the art of Jar-Kai to his liking. Understanding very little about his past he took the time to think about all of his decisions. Nothing really seemed real anymore. Slave, mercenary, Jedi, Dark Jedi. He been all of these, but also none of them because of the loss of his memories. However, the reaction he received from Ordos made him believe that there was more to his story than had ever realized. Pushing that aside to complete his training was his decision because, as it stood, there was not much he could do about it.

Focusing the next phase of his training was on martial arts as the ground seemed, once again, to shift beneath his feet. For this next phase of his education, he would spar with Koufu for hours on end. However, this time around he used an artificial gravity device to increase the gravity in the room tenfold. Becoming a struggle to walk or even breathe was his daily exercise. Wanting to increase his muscle mass by lifting weights in this environment before he taught more advanced techniques in either sport. Following the next year of weight lifting and rigorous exercise allowed him to begin training again. Improving his connection by honing his skills with the basic techniques of the force happened quickly. Almost as though he had been studying it for years.

Training in enhanced artificial gravity was grueling for the young Anzat. Despite his instincts and prior education, everything seemed to almost crawl to a halt. Walking even to go take a shower was painful so had to learn to walk over again. Bumping into chairs, tables, and various furniture was exacerbated in this new environment on the Alexandria. It was months before he could stand to the point of picking up a sword. Standing in increased gravity forced him to take days before he could properly swing a sword. Running laps around the ship was another exercise to get used to the increased amount of gravity. Besides the stress of his tightened muscles he found that Koufu had placed blasters that were activated just about as soon as he stopped moving.

Because it had the possibility of the destroying the ship it was more than expertly motivated in this instance. Resting was only allowed for a period of six hours each day, otherwise, it was spent training in Teras Kasi. Sparring matches with either Koufu or a mercenary he hired to help him train were the stresses of his everyday routine. The young Anzat had no way of knowing, if he would be attacked during his training. Then, of course, the increased gravity was returned to normal during those periods. Those moments he realized what was going were dreadful. The kinks, the pounding, the fear. These feeling seem to rule him the longer he was on this ship. Deetrick, who was a human, had trained in a similar manner was brought into to test his skills about four years after the honing his skills in martial arts.

The sulfur, the moonlight, the stench. The atmosphere in the room was palpable with tension as he finally begun to get used to the increased gravity. Approaching the lecture droid he began reviewing the technical information on Teras Kasi. Watching the videos of various different techniques took a large portion of his time as he was learning to compliment his movements with a blade and his martial arts studies. Feeling as though his body was beginning to come together with his swordplay quite well. Exploring the bowels of the ship he was attacked and thrown to the ground. Wrapping his thighs around his neck was Deetrick, who Koufu sent in to test where he was with his training.

Breathing slowed as his thighs were draining the air from his lungs. Struggling with the pressure on his throat the young Anzat took a chance. Giving in so his enemy would think that he had won. Releasing him after he stopped struggling was how the young Anzat managed to gain the upper hand. Following that incident Deetrick revealed that he suggested more rigorous education methods because his current standards were lacking. Continuing his training was Deetrick, still on the Alexandria, who began teaching him several advanced techniques not readily available to Koufu. His training now included more and more hand to hand combat. Screaming squill, sleeping krayt, spitting rawl, death weave. Those techniques were among the lessons that started here.

Months spent practicing one maneuver for days occupied his time. Nothing he learned felt natural to him at all. Broken bones, broken ribs, punctured spleen. Deetrick had a tendency to not hold back so his body was always put through extreme stress. Hurting sometimes to even get up the morning. Before long he realized nearly three years had gone by learning the better parts of Teras Kasi. Acquiring an increased hunger with every year that passed by he wanted to test the soup every instance of one more broken appendage. Beginning to think that Koufu was attempting to bring out that side of him. Fighting this biological imperative became his daily trials.

Extending to his final days learning Teras Kasi was met with a final decision by Deetrick. Teaching him techniques that were designed to strengthen his body should he ever lose his lightsabers again. Pushing him to far however was Deetrick because was finally driven to the soup. Broken ribs, tightened muscles, aching jaw. The young Anzat was finally driven to rage after this last fight. Certainly, the young Anzat had needed to learn how to take a beating, but it was becoming too much for him to handle. Extending his telepathic abilities by attaching his appropriate appendages to Deetrick he attempted the soup. Failing the first time because he of the skill of his opponent unhinged him.

Reacting to several exchanges of blows there was a palpable tension. Eventually the young Anzat was able to perform the soup after Deetrick let down his guard. Fear, anger, rage, regret. Absorbing the effects of the soup brought back those emotions from all of his many lives that brought him to this point. Beginning to question everything about his existence as all of his memories came flooding back. He was gone, the boy that had destroyed again and again had begun to realize the truth about his many lives. Solider, slave, servant, leader. None of those titles described him. Understanding that he was a coward by any definition of the word made him cringe. Every single one of his actions in the past 130 years amounted to the act of a coward.

Kneeling down on the floor of the ship caused him to vow to never again trust the word of anyone at face value. Acquiring a singular mistrust of everyone else in the galaxy. Deciding in that moment to destroy Koufu after he learned everything he could from him. Reeling from the acquisition of his memories he heard footsteps from an opening door in the room. Throwing away the Thorn as he summoned his lightsabers he saw Koufu standing before him. Equivocally stating that he had been waiting for this moment all along. That this was the prerequisite to truly become his apprentice. Acquiring enough anger and hatred to fully take advantage of the training that Koufu had to offer.

Thadious, Thorn, Djuga. The young Anzat had gone by many names, but this was the moment that his birth name had the most meaning. Abandoning the moniker Thorn and reclaiming a name he had not used in nearly 100 years. Doubt, power, revenge, hopelessness. Many choices were capable of leading his final decent into the dark side. Revenge fueled his desires more than anything else as he began to plan and scheme his next move going forward. Slavers, the Mandalorians, Klutzer, Anliza, the knights of Slaver's Bay. Everyone who responsible were everything that had gone wrong in his life deserved to die. Planning to hunt them all down and destroy was the proper path. Koufu would merely be the first to be vanquished as a part of grand plan.

Following his final descent into the dark side the young Anzat began honing his skills in Jar-kai even further. Fueled by his anger towards the rest of the galaxy, his skills in the bladed arts ascended to unknowable heights. Bestowing four synthesized crystals to the young Anzat proved beneficial. Recovering his memories led to the creation of a collapsible double sided lightsaber and two shotos, though the shotos never see much use. Stemming from the revealed memories he began building a tablet hacking device in his spare time. Among the abilities of the device, included uploading, downloading and editing the machine code of droids and ships. Although it could never affect an entire ship or structure, technology that had embedded machine code could be manipulated so long as he can understand it, though it takes time.

Along with furthering his training in the bladed arts his master began teaching him force concealment because it would come quite in handy as a bounty hunter or assassin. Furthermore, the many lives he has lived has made it so the skill came quite naturally to him. Teaching him to mask his connection to the force, either light or dark, cost him the use of all of his force related abilities. For now it required extreme meditation, but Koufu was teaching him so that the meditation required was not so extensive. However, he found that the skill was particularly difficult under those moments that he desired the soup. Before long he learned to invoke this ability through an intense training session. Training so tremendously that he would work up a sweat was one of the methods that he acquired in controlling this ability, but he was still just barely becoming adept at the skill.

Writing programs was something that he had not done in nearly fifty years. Meaning he had to learn the process over again. Because of that most of his skills had atrophied, but the ability to alter machine code still came naturally to him. Studying the machine code of PK-5 became one of his daily activities because hoped it would illuminate his master’s activities. Learning shortly that during his seclusion on the Alexandria several systems succeeded from the Republic and became the Sith Aristocracy. Discovering the path he would take, joining the Aristocracy after he finally succeeded in destroying his master once and for all.

Training sessions often included him training with his master in situations that almost seemed to be near death, but he was always overmatched, preventing a direct assault. Resigning him to the fate of walking up behind him and stabbing him in the back. Camouflaging his attacks in manner that seemed like he was only attempting to learn how his master always predicted his movements. Coincidentally, that was actually part of it. Because his master never left an opening in their sparring sessions, he almost thought he was a sorcerer that way. Beginning with poison in his tea cups were failed attempts because he always smelled the aroma. Mines, traps, sabotage. Nothing seemed to work. Encrypting a communication to an assassin, one of the many he discovered in the fight club, met with quite an untimely death. By this point he had also reached an intermediate stage of his training with force concealment, though he can still only hide his connection to the force.

Consoling himself with his lightsaber training was his only escape. Refusing to use his telepathic abilities again because he was afraid of them left his hands tied. Reviewing the camera footage by hacking into the ships security system left him shocked and deposed. Anliza was working with his master. Although he was unaware of how far their association went, the young Anzat felt enraged at the sight of the woman who had dragged him down this path, however, his feelings about her was conflicted because part of himself still loved her. The logs, of course, dictated that she had not been on the ship in the last twenty years since he came on board, but there was a part of him that just needed to settle things with her.

Another three years went by and his training continued. Because it was passion that fueled his training, he found that his lusts for revenge guided his hand. Channeling his hunger for the soup into his passion for this particular lightsaber style gave him an edge that seemed overwhelming. There were days that seemed like he would lose his footing in some of the lightsaber techniques he was now learning. Sometimes his own power seem to work against him as he trained against battle droids. This particular style was so difficult to master that in one instance some of the battle droids nearly killed him as a result of his negligence. There were blasts from their lasers that were two inches away from his heart. Instead, breaking both of his ribs.

Ignoring the responsibility to be laid up in bed allowed him to continue his plotting and scheming. Beginning to disable the entire ship was his that seemed to be the best option. Planning to escape on the starfighter that was in the hanger bay. Almost eight months were spent hacking into the ship’s systems so he could cause major malfunction at any time. Pk-5 had steadily been planting mines, stolen from the ship’s armory, in sensitive areas of the ship were not easily replaced. Engines, shields, weapons, crucial subroutines. Editing the camera footage so the process went by unawares took almost as long as setting the mines.

Eventually, he also sent another communication to a band of assassins, that he had known from the fight club, to attack the ship at a prearranged time. Claiming there was a massive bounty on board for anyone who could take it. Passing by after a few more weeks was a massive fleet that converged on their position. Exploding the mines that were placed on the ship allowed him to ambush his master, setting the ship’s weapons to automatic fire, stabbing him in the back in the process. Djuga escaped on board a USF-1 ShadowHawk Interceptor, with PK-5 in tow, heading to the Sith Aristocracy.

Although the young Anzat had plans for revenge, he acquired neither the power nor resources to see them enacted. Choosing to hide his connection to the force, hence, he lost access to most of his force related abilities. Even sensing another Jedi became impossible, he began training so he could invoke the skill more readily. Wielding a lightsaber was about all he could do under these circumstances. Then, of course, anything but basic swordsmanship was out of the question. However, he also cannot simply begin using his abilities at any time because this ability places too much stress on him. Requiring about 48 hours between using force concealment or his remaining abilities.

Working for a band of mercenaries, called ecosystem terrorist, seemed the perfect decision that allowed him strike back at his enemies. Arriving in the Dantooine sector was where he first met the group. Playacting as farmers allowed them to hide in plain sight. Contacting them through one of his fight club contacts seemed appropriate to him at the time. Comprised largely of Manadalorians he was forced to use just his skills with machine code hacking that were among his duties with them. Because the Manadalorians were also on his hit list, he used this as the perfect opportunity to study them for weaknesses. Around this time they were planning on acquiring some ancient Sith artifact from a power plant in Bastion.

Djuga's position was to hack into the system and gain control of the security system. Monitoring for any threats that may come up. Entering Bastion airspace was easy enough with the correctly forged travel documents to get them through security. Most armed conflict was dealt with by the other members because they would recognize him as a force user, if he attempted to wield his lightsabers. Carrying a simple pair of hand guns and sniper rifle were his only defenses on these types of missions, though PK-5 always came along. Regardless, once they finally arrived at the power plant he jacked in using his tablet device. Reading machine code was not simply like flicking a switch or finding vulnerabilities.

Writing programs on site was not as simple as anything someone might expect it to be. Pattern recognition was something he found addicting. Forming in his head was the code as he typed in the different variable, for loops, and indeterminate connections that would eventually get him where he needed to go. Imagining the code in his head while he translated it to machine code would determine the success or failure of a mission. Pk-5 would usually wait as spotter for a hasty exit should the situation arrive or if his sniping skills were required of him. Djuga was a spotter, while they were inside the building. Constantly communicating the position of guards and other personnel.

Exploring some the advanced neural optic technology in these facilities were exhilarating for the young Anzat. Crystals, vibrosteel circuit boards, neural inhibiter chips. The feeling of hacking into those systems almost gave him untold peace. Generating a prearranged deterministic programming model he sent a virus through the science labs facilities. However, there were Jedi sent to guard this particular facility. Approaching him was a single Jedi master, a Baselisk, who wielded a single collapsible double-sided lightsaber. Realizing he had no choice he, without telekinesis, pulled two shotos. Taking the stance of Jar-Kai caused the Manadalorians to almost look like they were about to revolt.

Stunning was the best word to describe the fighting style of the Jedi Master, who used an advanced form of Sokan. Evenly matched as they were the young Anzat was prepared to take every advantage available to him. Slashing any nearby electrical charge hoping to cause a surge would begin to dictate the outcome of the gambit. Everything seemed to be converging on them both, as the Mandalorians realized he was only using sword techniques and not the force itself. Blasting away at the Baselisk with their blasters allowed Anzat to gain the upper hand and murder the Jedi. Choosing to take his lightsaber as a trophy to better sell his lie to the Mandalorians. Claiming he worked for a Dark Jedi in the past that taught him their bladed arts seem to appease them.

Revealing that there was no Sith artifacts after all, save for empty holocrons, enraged their marry little band of terrorists. Sure, they wanted to sabotage the plant, but they needed to fund this operation. Purchasing the holocrons from the Mandalorians was easy because they considered them somewhat worthless. Although they still charged a hefty fee, he was able to use the small fortune he stole from the Alexandria before he left. The Mandalorians also allowed him access to some of their battle armor. Officially making him a part of their group after he destroyed the Baselisk Jedi. Sewage facilities, mines asteroid belts, various shipyards. Before long he realized that he had now been going on raids with them for about six years.

Now 140 years old, everything had come full circle for him. Eventually he learned that Anliza was responsible for the creation of this group. Being contacted for a meeting on her ship, the Boknor, seemed ominous at best. Wondering if she knew who he was at all. Knocked out and drugged immediately upon his arrival was her response. Strapping him to a chair and claiming that she has known about him all along. Allowing him to get here was so they could come to terms. Arguing that he betrayed and nearly killed her was said without rage or vengeance, like she found some sort of peace. Responding as though he were a viper hunting its prey he argued differently in response. Explicitly stating that she betrayed him all of those years ago with Klutzer.

Kneeling before him she realized he remembered everything that had occurred to him since he abandoned the Jedi a lifetime ago. Realizing that her feelings for him were just as real they embraced each other on the floor of the interrogation room. Watching was probably her attendants, but she gave no mind to them at all. Fading was his need for revenge, against her, because they equally hurt enough so that they could simply seek out their revenge against on their remaining enemies together. Anliza, who had become a senator in the Sith Aristocracy, decided to continue his training in Djem-So like they had never lost each other's side. She became the center of his world.

Refusing to trust anyone one else in the entirety of the galaxy. His was response was surprising that he mulled over his choice for months. Wondering how they both still be have feelings for each other after all this time. Becoming her personal assassin as the he saw the aristocracy begin to transform into a lethal fighting force that would one day become the Sith was fascinating. Senators, rivals, diplomats. There was almost no end to the amount of people that she had issues that needed to be dealt with reasonably. None more so than Klutzer himself, who she had tracked away hiding on Dantooine. Plowing fields as though his previous life as pirate, slaver, and torturer never occurred.

Arriving on Dantooine around 3608 BBY he is completely surprised by the appearance and condition of his former master. Being shaken and destroyed by the force has so disfigured him that he no longer looks human. Grotesque looking sludge in pile of almost wet goo has deteriorated his body completely. Reaching out with his mind with the force Klutzer requested that the young Jedi murder him. Offering him wealth and power, his secrets of the force, should he grant his request. Power, revenge, hate. Those were the choices in front of him and he easily chose revenge. Leaving him in that state was poetic justice and a fate worse than death. Something he could have never dreamed up himself. Gathering up the blob that remained he encased it in a vibrosteel container, blocking his telepath abilities, that he buried 1000 feet underground beneath that very house.

Informing Anliza of Klutzner's death he broke all ties with the Sith Aristocracy. Hearing rumors of his mentor's ship being spotted in the outer rim he had to make sure his mentor was indeed still dead. Locating the ship in the Ryloth system because he knew its corresponding beacon frequency, otherwise, it would have been left floating adrift in space for who knows how long. Finding his mentor's body he gave him a funeral in space he deserved. Using the fortune he had earned over the years and what was left on this ship he had it completely retrofitted to a destroyer/frigate hybrid, the Nightwing. Hearing that not long after this the Sith had revealed themselves to the galaxy he decided to offer them his services.

Arriving Korriban a few days later was a bit daunting to say the least. Although he was not allowed in the Inner Sanctum. He was tested by one of their leaders. Walking into the chambers of the academy an ominous atmosphere perpetrated everything. Striking him down immediately was one of those Sith, a Zabrak, who belonged to the Inner Sanctum, fighting with everything. There would be no second chances, his life was at stake, that much was clear. Standing and prepared to fight was the young Anzati's aim. Because the member of the Inner Sanctum took the stance of Juyo, the young Anzati did the same.

No hesitation, No second guessing, No remorse. The only thing on his mind in this moment was the fight standing before him. Certainly, than might of been a test, but the Sith, whoever she was, did not respond that way. No words were exchanged as the fight commenced. Although their skills were arguably, nearly, evenly matched, there was more to her technique than he actually learned with art. She left herself no weak points of which to take advantage. Fighting with everything he assumed she was now holding back as the fight continued because he realized he left several openings in his own techniques because he was thinking too much.

Exchanging a few more blows before he was thrown into a wall in a manner that seemed overwhelmingly powerful. Learning that force abilities were not his skill set, but then again his abilities with the force were always middling compared to any Jedi or Sith. Abandoning force techniques in his attacks that were purely offensive long ago. Prepared, he laid down his lightsabers and attempted to strike her down in a stance unique to Teras Kasi would be his next attempt. Throwing down his lightsabers surprised his Sith opponent. For moment she was disgusted before realizing the young Anzati simply realized that he would win neither with the force nor with a blade.

Examining him for moment the Sith seemed pleased with him and realized that she he would have to kill him to stop the fight. Instead, she had her attendant knock him out and place him in one of the barracks until he calmed down. The bloodlust still clearly on his face. Waking up in one the rooms that belonged to former knight who taught at the academy was quite inspiring to the young Anzati. Emerging from room he saw acolytes training, constantly.

Approaching him eagerly was the Sith, who explained the reasons for the test, she needed to know his skill. Describing his skills with a blade impressive. Claiming that he should acquire some more talent with force, but that she understands why he would not use it offensively in his situation. Being wise enough to abandon something that he would never succeed as anything more than a middling practitioner was understandable. Receiving a comission as a Sith Lord with a rank of Assassin shortly thereafter.


The End

Roleplay Sample

Hunting Jedi and their counterparts in an opposing fleet had become commonplace for Helios, as electrical outages screeched in the following hallway. Enduring echoes of screams his recon team boarded a republic dreadnought in search of a renegade Sith, who was seeking to deal them a lethal blow. But after the electrical currents died down and darkness seemed to cover the room, it was obvious what happened. Being lead into a trap so easily was something that he had accounted for, however, he did not expect something so bold from this particular target as he slashed away the wreckage that was floating in the room. Altering the gravity was probably a failsafe Helios expected.

Wandering past the wreckage of the destroyed part of the ship he dead bodies that were killed in the blast could be seen. Thinking this place was abandoned would be a forgivable mistake for someone that was not trained in hunting force users. Understanding that the bodies surrounding them were little more than slaves to distract long for an attack that was obviously coming their direction. Then, of course, he knew things never go to plan because the Sith they were searching for had been among this graveyard. Smelling like burned flesh it was as though hydrochloric acid had been placed in a bucket where he was thrown inside. Melting him alive as though he was no mote than cattle.

Looking around the graveyard it was clear that whoever responsible was recently here because of the heat residue. Knowing that all of the bodies around them were still warm gave Helios room to pause as he explored their remains. Finding a data crystal among the Sith's clothes of the man they had been searching for seemed ignite an ominous feeling in Helios' troops. Closing behind them were the doors that sealed the level of the ship that they had boarded. If they this was going to be a short mission, than they were clearly mistaken.

Searching the records of the panel beside him he attempted to break the encryption on the doors locking them in. Miscalculating the security measures on the door an electrical current pulsed through him. Dragging him away before his recon team could react was an assault droid that pulled him down to the lower level of the ship. Waking up without any of his equipment was jarring, as he might as well have been naked. Acquiring his bearings about him he could have sworn that he was in a jungle.

Digging through what felt like mud and dirt he could almost feel like something was crawling on his skin. Before he realized it, he felt a spider crawl up his back. Although he was stung, he managed to use the force to repel it backwards. Smashing it with his bear hands he found his muscles and joints begin to slow. As he barely made to the end of the hall, he discovered he was in fact no longer on a ship. Regardless, he had to keep his wits about him. His arms, his lightsabers, his droids. They all entirely evaporated as he was wearing nothing but a common jumpsuit.

Walking out on the planet he felt goosebumps roll down his skin, as he could see the smog recede from his lips, when he gasped. Almost barely able to walk any further, he found an outpost standing in front of him. Although it was abandoned, there was nothing more he could do but find a way to get warm. Rummaging through the outpost there was a disabled communicator. After attempting to use it, he realized it had malfunctioned so he proceeded to take it apart to an attempt an repair. Slowly and quietly, he heard the door to what he thought was an abandoned outpost swing open.

Helios' face shifted from hopefulness to fear as he heard the crackling of the wind as he heard the door shift open. Wondering what was going on images kept being conjured in his head about the countless enemies he had made over the years that brought him to this point. Could it be the wookiee smuggler? Survivors of the Knights of Slaver's Bay? Someone that had entirely escaped his notice? Falling over his face was dread now that he considered the endless possibilities that could be walking through this door.

Regaining his composure he looked for anything, anything, to defend himself with. Seeing a rather pathetic training sword he picked it up. Although he was moderately skilled with a single blade, he dropped it in favor of his skills with martial arts. Preparing to fight he waited for the inevitable. " I'm ready for whatever you've got to throw at me. You're the type to stab someone in the back... just like me. Now get on with it because the waiting is driving me insane." Facing the door the look on his face shifted to look like someone preparing to give his life to escape this planet. Destroying whoever put in this room.

[djuga]

Seems finished, hopefully I caught over all of the silly errors. Though admittedly I have trouble catching missing words, but I think I found most of them.

[Rugs]

Hey, was just taking a quick glance over some things and have a few passing thoughts for you:

Mandalorian armor tends to be pretty restricted outside of Mandalorians themselves. I've not read the bio itself, so I can't speak to whatever your justification may be, but I just want you to be aware.

For physical stats, there's a bit of a mixup there - expert is for learned skills like combat, force techniques, etc. Should be superior, if that's what you're going for.

For Force Valor, Specialist is a rank that only applies to lightsaber forms. The highest for a Force power is master.

Speaking of, you've got too many mastered forms for a specialist rank :s The rank was created during our applicaiton overhaul because, under the old system, there wasn't a way to show devotion to a singular form. Now we have that, in Specialist, but as a tradeoff, there are limits to how many forms your character should be spending time with. I personally wouldn't give it to someone who's mastered more than one other form, and they really shouldn't dabble too much with one more than two other forms at most.

It's to show a Count Dooku-like devotion to a form.

Beyond that, you've probably got too many forms mastered in general. Age is room for learning, sure, but for balance's sake we tend to have a general plateau for characters so no one makes a multi-hundred year old unstoppable juggernaut. Now, I can't say what might need to change, again as I haven't looked through the bio, but five mastered forms is a ton.

And generally, I just want to ask you to be patient with us here. We're aware you need a look but this is a behemoth in the middle of a big influx of members. We'll take care of you, and I appreciate your apparent enthusiasm for your character Just give us some time, cause it's going to take a while to read everything.

[djuga]

If I wanted him to be a specialist in double bladed combat, but be skilled with weilding two lightsabers should I stick with Jar-Kri as his only other mastered form besides Shi-Cho? oh ok, I was not sure on balance as I tried to make him more or less much weaker in the force. I could always change the armor to something else because it's not really meant for defense.

[Rugs]

That's something you could do, yeah. That's more or less what I've done with my Sith, without the specialization, since I intend him to learn one more form through RP.

And it's cool. Mostly just the sheer number of forms. I think the most I've seen a character given is like four, in my years here. But, as I said, it's hard to judge stats without reading the bio, so it's all just looking at things generally. We'll get everything worked out for you

And that'd be good! If it's all the same to you you could make it some other sort of armor without losing much of anything, since beskar is a tricky subject here as Dutch would be more than willing to tell you xP

[djuga]

I will go ahead and edit stats and things and save bio edits for later because Dutch mentioned someone was already looking through it.

Exchanged force valor for battlemind for those mods who are looking over this and im now focusing soley on jar-kri with two shotos/double-sided lightsaber/two double-bladed lightsabers or a mixture of the two.  It should not take to much editing in history for this.  Just changing a few words here and there and a few battle sequences.  

edit:I made an edit to the ending though.  Changed to where he got the Nightwing and removed any mention of Rhen Var at the end. Alot of it is the same, but changes begin after the incident in 3608 BBY.

edit:removed battlemind.

edit:altered rp sample

[lion]

Hey Djuga, I'm lion; let's see if we can get this app lined up for finish. Sorry for the delays thus far; you've been super patient with us and we're grateful for that.

Let's take a crack at this, shall we? I'll offer what suggestions and advice I can, as well as give whatever kudos are due at the parts I think are pretty top, yeah? Constructive critique and all that. Let's get started.
-----------------------------

Basics: Name and all that seem fine; the build you mention in appearance matches the height/weight, so good job here. That said, I'd up that 'appearance age' a bit. Maybe early-mid twenties? A bit more fully developed, given his actual age and what he's gone through.

Appearance: Nice details here, I don't think I can find anything to really hone in on, though some of what you've listed does edge into personality. Just an aside, you made a name-typo in the second paragraph of "Druja". Working title, eh? Don't fret, happens to all of us. ;p

Personality: Again, seems all good here; nothing really major to grab a hold of. Good job. :3

Ship: Cool

Equipment: Again, neat; that's a fair few lightsabers! I presume he's not carrying them all at once, right?

Stats: Neat and balanced.

Force Stats: Alright here, too; looking good. 

Combat Training: Again, this is good, though I do see an issue with some of them. Teras Kasi is an unarmed form, and unarmed/hand to hand would also be the same. Just list Teras Kasi as the skill, get rid of Unarmed and Hand to Hand. :3

Force Training: Sure

Other Training: Neat, I like the detail listed here in different types of work involved.

Lightsaber Training: Cool

Biography: All looks good here, though I'd correct any mention of Jar'kri to Jar'kai. Cool story, you went into a lot of detail, it's good to see. :3

[djuga]

Fixed everything I think. I removed most of the references to other lightsaber styles, besides Shii-cho and jar-kai, and added vibro blades below average to stats, as I forgot to include it.

He will only really be using two of the lightsabers at most, though PK-5 will always hold the other two on hand.

[Rugs]

Approved

Ships/Vehicles:
Nightwing

Equipment:
shoto: single phase, synthesized crystal, red
shoto: single phase, synthesized crystal, red
collapsible dual-bladed lightsaber: single phase, synthesized crystal, red
collapsible dual-bladed lightsaber: single phase, amber(stolen from a Baselisk Jedi)
Magnetic Cuffs
Data Crystals x5
Ion Grenade(25mm)x3
Sonic Grenade(25mm)x3
EM Pulse Grenade(25mm)x3
Nightshade
PK-5
Trident x2

Stats:

Strength - Average
Agility - Superior
Intelligence - Average
Charisma - Below Average

Force Stats:

Telekinetic-Apprentice
Telepathic-Apprentice
Body-Master
Sense-Expert
Protection-Apprentice
Healing:–Apprentice
Destruction–Adept

Combat Training:
Teras Kasi - Average
Ranged Weapons:Average
Rifles:Average
Pistols:Average
Piloting - Below Average
Vibroblade - Below Average

Force Training:

Force Concealment - Master

Other Training:

Programming (Same scale as lightsaber training model)

-Neural Linguistic Programming - Average
-Machine Code Programming - Average
-Parallel Circuit Board Programming - Average
-Machine Code Programming - Average
-Matrix Programming - Average
-Artificial Intelligence Programming - Average
-Droid Repair, Creation, Modification - Average
-Hacking Machine Code - Expert

Lightsaber Training:

Shii-Cho- Master
Jar-Kai/Dual Wield: Double bladed or shotos or mixture of both - Specialist (specialized in defending against 3-4 opponent