Lightside Sith 030
AN: Well, the secondary story poll had Lightside Sith win, so here's your additional content as per what was voted~ I'll release LSS Sunday, and maybe Friday too this week in addition to its M T, W release. Amazing, your vote has consequences~~~ (vote in the next poll~)
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Tiredly rubbing his eyes, Kane swore he saw afterimages of eldritch yellow, and puke green. Studying ancient Sith sorceries was a mind numbing, taxing sensation.
During this trip, he had even found himself in a mental time loop, trapped within the confines of the book. It was only thanks to Ferus feeling a disturbance in the Force, that he had been rescued. Embarrassing enough, as if being saved by a Jedi wasn't bad enough for a dignified Sith Lord, Ferus actually only identified the symptom, seemingly having no means to awaken Kane from his stupor. ‘Thankfully’ Durge was onboard. One hamsized bitch slap, apparently, was all it took for the ancient Sith magick to be broken.
Figures, right? That the most direct path to breaking a Sith spell would be some oonga bunga might makes right bullshit.
Other than that exciting interlude, nothing much had taken place during their trip to Nar Shaddaa. Oh, sure, he trained with the other Jedi, and honestly, the eighteen year old was a young badass. In terms of strict bladework, the kid was at the peak of a Padawan’s powers. In fact, the frequent sparring pushed Ferus further, and he had actually touched upon the threshold of a Jedi Knight (low)!
Kriffing cheating protagonists!
The only way he had managed to keep up was due to his Makashi & Soresu, supplementing raw power with knowledge.
During this ever escalating arms race, Kane had also taken time to train with the lightsaber droid gifted by Obi-Wan. Initially, he had considered learning something flashy, like Ataru, or overwhelmingly powerful, like Djem So. However, he had ultimately decided on the often considered weakest, and simplest Form: Shii-Cho.
The ‘Way of the Sarlacc’ or, Form I was something all Padawans were taught, and acted as a steady foundation for lightsaber combat. Focusing on wide sweeps, and unpredictable strikes, it was generically speaking, complete ass in a 1v1 or against other lightsaber users.
However, against massive armies, Form I was kind of a bread and butter skill of the Jedi. Those wide strikes combined with a long super hot bar of plasma were pretty lethal!
Now, as to why he picked Form I over the others when he was training with a genius? Well, to strengthen his foundation. Kane found that Makashi was endless parries, specific footwork, and particularly excelled at lunges/stabs. Soresu, meanwhile was like 90% defense, and then upon the enemy's exhaustion, you would go in for the kill. He was lacking something against large groups in terms of offense, and despite his training, executing the moves felt a little lacking. By learning Shii-Cho, Kane had strengthened his core understanding of lightsaber combat, and new insights had populated his mind.
Finally, his ambition was to learn Forms IV, V, then VI in order. Although Form VII was the titular method of the Sith, and people clowned on Form VI all the time…any Star Wars nerd worth their salt understood how broken Niman truly was.
The ‘Diplomat's Form’ focused on balance, and implementing the Force into your attacks. It had a little bit of all the other Forms mixed into one. In practice, this was the standard Form that most Jedi chose to practice. However, this had the unfortunate consequence of making most Jedi jack-of-all-tradee, masters of none. In short, so many Jedi got their asses blasted during the Clone Wars due to insufficient training.
However. However. A Force Adept who mastered the aforementioned Forms, and then mastered Niman is a godlike existence. Jack-of-all-trades, master of all. That was what Kane was aiming for, thus, Shii-Cho, whilst much less flashy than Ataru, and weaker than Djem-So, was just what he needed to realize his ambitions!
Rubbing his eyes once more, Kane was within his cabin, and held onto his amulet as he imagined such a beautiful future. Although his studies had gone awry during this trip, he wasn't without gains. After briefly summoning those ghosts full of resentment to teach Ferus's Master a lesson, he had obtained new insights. Now, whilst summoning the ghosts of non-Force Sensitives was still challenging for him, he could speak to the recently deceased with little problem. And, if he was willing to set up an annoying ritual, he could speak to pretty much any dead.
Closing his spellbook, Kane felt the ship break out of hyperspace, shuddering slightly as it did so. Walking out towards the bridge, he glanced at Ferus, who was meditating in the galley. The teen was chilling, but his eyes slightly snapped open with a competitive glimmer. That depressed, mopey look had vanished in over the course of their journey. Unconstrained by a master, or the Order, the teen's days had pretty much consisted of meditating, fighting, and kicking Kane's ass at Dejarik.
Kane was no psychologist, but being away from an overly puritan toxic environment, exercising, and constantly winning at videogames against a friend were probably the best cures to depression.
Snorting in disdain, Kane ignored the guy, and made for the bridge. The ghost of a smile spread across Ferus's face, before stern rigidity returned, and he followed behind.
As the doors slid open, and the large armored mercenary's bulk came into view, Kane looked out the viewport.
The traffic going to, and leaving Nar Shaddaa was mind boggling. From the games, this hive of scum and villainy looked like a grid of super cities lit up by a continuous stream of electricity. Like Tokyo on crack, the endless city spread across an entire planet, and it was bright. There was also a nasty rim of toxic green gas coagulating around its atmosphere.
However, what no one liked to talk about, was how many kriffing ships there were!
Sitting upon a nexus of trade routes, economically speaking, Nar Shaddaa was the gateway to the western portion of the Outer Rim. Then, considering it was the hub for Hutt's, shady businesses, and gangsters of all affiliations, money & misery rained down upon Nar Shaddaa more frequently than toxic rain.
Honestly, Kane was impressed. Naboo, Serenno, and even Vinsoth were all pretty lush with grass & mountains. Relatively speaking, they had similar climates, and if Kane was in a position to google the wilderness in the NA or Asia, those grassy planes, forests, and mountains wouldn't look so out of place on Earth. However, an entire planet that was a city was both magical and terrible.
As a loner who hated big crowds, Nar Shaddaa was like a hellscape to Kane. At the same time, it was one of the most fascinating locations in all of Star Wars. With several trillion people-and probably even more unofficially-there was a non-zero chance that some idiot high on Spice wouldn't try to rob them for all their creds.
“First time to Nar Shaddaa?” Durge asked whilst he slowly began to descend through the upper atmosphere.
“Unfortunately.” Kane sighed.
“What's wrong, is the mighty Lord Renstar afraid to get his boots dirty?” Durge mocked.
“Indeed. The filth of that wretched place is enough to drive any sane man mad.” Kane said, adopting a superior tone, sounding much like a generically assholish nobleman.
“Good thing you aren't sane.” Ferus muttered.
“Ha! You choose your company well, Renstar.” Durge said, slapping a knee with one of his massive, gauntleted hands.
Kane raised an eyebrow, and glanced at the Gen'dai. ‘Bro, you're not that slick. Praising yourself like that, really?’
The words were unsaid, but the message was received.
“Tch.” Durge scowled behind his mask, but, unable to get a rise out of Kane, the big man became annoyed.
“Where are you landing us, anyway?” Ferus asked in curiosity.
Kane felt some slight alarm spike in the Force, and began to pay attention to his surroundings. All around them, mega-skyscrapers ten times or more than those found on Earth loomed into sight. As they descended, the traffic, smog, and blindingly abundant advertisements/neon lights came into view.
“Never thought you'd ask. Look ahead, boy. That there is the holy religious sight for mercs, Spice addicts, smugglers, pimps, prostitutes, and gangsters.” Durge said with pride.
HoloAds playing on the sides of buildings, openly offering services such as slave auctions, contract killings, the sale of harvested organs, and sex sex sex! Casinos, and whorehouses were on every block. This was but one of a dozen different mega Red Light districts spread throughout the planet.
Upon seeing these blatant advertisements, Ferus’s gloom once more returned, and he silently sent Kane a pleading look.
For his part, Kane saw plenty of opportunities to farm Lightside Points…unfortunately, he was in a sort of limbo until he was promoted.
[Lightside Sith Promotion Quest
1: Convert a Jedi to the Darkside 0/1
2: Gaslight an enemy into turning traitor 0/1
3: Reveal a leader’s secret resulting in the dissolution of a group 0/1]
Perhaps he could find the opportunity to advance solely on Nar Shaddaa? Glancing at the turbulent teen on the brink of losing his composure, a small grin spread across his face. Yes, pushing young Olin into releasing his rage wouldn't be too difficult, now would it?
The only trouble was, Kane was not an idiot. Openly destroying the interests of the Hutts was the fastest way to end up ten feet under. Whilst he was an enlightened Lightside Sith, that didn't mean he could afford to go on some anti-slavery crusade against the largest crime syndicate in the galaxy. Nominally speaking, he was even friends with Jabba the Hutt!
However, that didn't mean he was without options. In fact, there was a method to act like the Hero, and avoid all the heat. He then nodded at Ferus reassuringly, as if to say ‘don't worry, I've got this.’
Typing up some numbers & pressing some buttons at a console on the bridge, a call across the HoloNet began. After a few minutes spent waiting on hold, the blue image of a pale-skinned Twi'lek came into view.
“Chief Seneschal Bib Fortuna, it fills my heart with pleasure that the mighty Jabba the Hutt has remembered his friend, and deigned to take this call.” Kane said in an overly dramatic, ‘heartfelt’ tone.
“Sickening.” Durge muttered in a low voice from the side.
Ferus, meanwhile, was looking at Kane in confusion. As if to say ‘why THE KRIFF’ are you speaking with this slime?!
“Lord Renstar, a pleasure as always. Master is indisposed at the moment, however, if it is urgent, I can take a message to him right away. The great Jabba always has time for matters of import.” Fortuna smoothly said.
“You need not trouble him, steward. I just so happened to be on Nar Shaddaa, and am looking for someone, an enemy of my Master. However, I am not so crass as to ask for this favor empty handed. My present company finds itself thirsting for bloodshed, to dominate as only Sith can. Find for us a stronghold or gang overdue on their debts, one that has slighted my friend, the mighty Jabba the Hutt. Point us in their direction, and we shall, hrm…take care of them.” Kane said with a diabolical smirk, posturing himself as the young, impetuous, dangerous Sith persona that he had displayed during Jabba's birthday party.
The pale-skinned Twi'lek's lekku dangled as he became even somewhat paler. Although he had witnessed, and been involved with some shady shit, witnessing Kane bring down a chandelier with the wave of a hand, and ram his crimson lightsaber into the chest of a Jedi Knight had been an incredibly vivid experience. Since then, Fortuna had done his research. After watching the holo-recordings of the failed kidnapping on Naboo, and the absolutely brutal actions taken on Vinsoth, he had a general idea for this Sith's modus operandi.
“Hmm, let me think.” Fortuna said, tapping his chin, then typing up something on a console in front of him. “Ah yes, I think this will do.”
Seconds later, an address and some basic information populated Kane's terminal.
“The Red Eclipse-a gang of Trandoshan & Weequay slavers-have recently assassinated one of My Lord's family members to establish territory. Their leaders are brazenly selling the corpse alongside their slave auction within the hour. Not only shall we reward you with the information you desire, but upon the death of their two leaders, the bounty is yours to keep, Lord Renstar.” Fortuna bowed, and said in a deeply flattering, respectful tone.
“Consider it done.” Kane perfunctorily answered, then cut the line.
“You don't trust your Confederate contact?” Durge asked with a leer.
Kane glanced at Ferus, then imagined what trouble he could stir up between the different species of alien, and how to hasten the teen's fall. His promotion to Sith Lord (low) was all but guaranteed.
“Nonsense. I am merely satisfying my teammates and their lust for violence. Or in the brat's case, for justice.” Kane snorted.
“Heh. Fair enough.” Durge replied, then began to follow the navigation towards the auction house that Bib had sent to them.
Ferus, meanwhile, had his white/brown bangs covering his eyes, deep in thought.
Kane smirked.
All too easy.