Lightside Sith 033

“Die, dry-scale! Because of you, we never have air conditioning!” A Weequay gangster spewed out hatefully, blaster in hand.

“Don't hss, make me hss, laugh! You muckrackers hog all the good loot. Greedy, petty, insssufferable!” A Trandoshan hissed, ducking behind cover while trading pot shots.

‘Ah, music to my ears.’ Kaine thought to himself.

[Lightside Sith Promotion Quest

1: Convert a Jedi to the Darkside 0/1

2: Gaslight an enemy into turning traitor 1/1

3: Reveal a leader’s secret resulting in the dissolution of a group 1/1]

Conditions 2 & 3 were completed, with condition 1 very close to finishing too. Still in the office, Kaine had the perfect view of the conflict, as he watched everything thanks to security cameras transmitting the data stream to the Weequay boss's monitors.

All across the casino and backstage, the formerly united Red Eclipse had broken down into an all out race war. Although united in name, the Trandoshans & Weequay rarely worked directly together. Only when they had to fight off other large gangs, or travel in a large raid group to pick off more troublesome targets did they operate together. For example, this night, they had planned on auctioning off a Hutt's corpse. That was a major taboo, however, in actuality, the Red Eclipse were but pawns.

Kaine, having interrogated the Weequay gang leader, discovered that the murdered Hutt was actually a hit commissioned by none other than Grakkus the Hutt, a powerful local on Nar Shaddaa. A quick search on the HoloNet showed that Grakkus was a collector & officianado on Jedi relics, and loved to force Jedi into gladiatorial combat. Coming across this knowledge, Kaine understood that whilst he was on Nar Shaddaa, that disgusting slime would no doubt attempt to capture him. Especially after drawing all this attention to himself.

Within the chaos of battle, Durge had joined the fight. The massive, armored worm-alien clad in heavy plate armor was like a tank. Whatever material he had coating his form, it absorbed the weak power of blaster pistols with ease, and he was barely slowed down when a rifle bolt struck him. Laser-shotgun in one hand, and a heavy machine gun in the other, the tall bounty hunter was mowing down both Trandoshan & Weequay like the harbinger of death. In a way, Durge reminded Kaine of the Terminator from the first movie when he gunned down the entire police station. In a word, he was badass!

Grinning to himself, he turned his attention to Ferus. The white/brown haired kid was clad in a worker's uniform, looking quite silly with a lightsaber in one hand, and a yellow-green safety vest on. That said, he was currently holding his own remarkably well. Due to the current race war, Ferus wasn't the focus, and managed to wipe out a squad here & there on his own. Making his way to the cages, his target was obvious.

Well that won't do.

Typing around on the keyboard, he issued orders to several Weequay, telling them to target the Jedi. Kaine felt like a villain twirling his mustache at the moment, but that was wrong! No, he, an enlightened Lightside Sith had just received some LS Points for freeing the prisoners. Truly, he was a benevolent being.

Leaning back in a swivel chair in the office, Kaine watched on, full of expectations. Ferus-starting to be overwhelmed trying to both fight & protect those to be auctioned off-was losing ground. Sweat covered his face, and his ability to deflect a dozen simultaneous shots was starting to slow down.

“Ferus, I sense you are at the end of your rope.” Kaine said through the intercom.

“Renstar?! Renstar, quick, reinforce me.” Ferus shouted up towards the ceiling, then barely ducked underneath a green bolt that would've taken his head.

“I'm on the other side of the facility, and won't reach you for some time. I am afraid there is only one way for you to seize victory, my friend.” Kaine said in a sibilant whisper.

Ferus's eyes went wide as his green lightsaber cut off an arm, and barely rolled out of the way of a thermal detonator. Covered in dusty debris caused by the near missed explosion, the teen had a sorry look about him.

“No. Never, I will not pull upon the Darkside.” Ferus gasped, quick on the uptake.

“You fear loss, and crave justice. Look before you, and see what the slavers have wrought. Should you perish now, what then is their fate?! Only you have the strength to free them. Pull upon your anger, unleash your hate. Let no gangster leave alive.” Kaine spoke in a strong tone, then cut the mic, not wanting to distract the Padawan any further.

For the next five minutes, Ferus was distraught as Kaine's words seemed to act as a prophecy. Too many people had been caught up in the crossfire, and he was starting to lose. Of course, if he fought with a little more stealth, or retreated, there was potential for another chance at victory. However, Ferus-for all his intelligence-was a product of his upbringing. In short, all he knew was to charge forward, or hold the line. The current generation of Jedi were too entrenched in their orthodoxy. And Kaine was relying upon that this very moment.

For a time, Kaine was on the edge of his seat, as it appeared the Jedi would genuinely die. Should Ferus perish here, it would be a major annoyance, as finding another Jedi to make fall would take some time. Clenching his fists, and staring at the monitor, Kaine finally let loose with a low, evil chuckle. He had done it.

Driven to a corner, the low-tier protagonist's hair shadowed his eyes as anger brooded beneath his mopey visage. Rage pulsed around him, forming a tangible haze in the air. One moment a Weequay was closing on him, the next, the gangster was cut in two. When a group tried to down him with overwhelming firepower, Ferus brought the light fixtures down upon their heads, snapping their necks or cracking their skulls. Darkness permeated the venue, and screams of terror rang throughout the night as a green blade ended their miserable lives. One by one, Ferus hunted the threats down, leaving none before his path alive.

Until finally, that green blade lunged at a red one. The crack of two lightsabers meeting echoed in the room full of slumped corpses, and severed limbs. High stab, knee sweep, flying limb tossed by the Force from behind, Ferus did everything in his power to overwhelm the enemy. Hyper focused, and willing to go to any lengths to achieve victory, the Darkside intoxicated the youth with images of dominance and success. He would free those people, damn the consequences!

It was to such an enraged scene that Kaine had come across. However, contrary to expectations, not only was he not mad at Ferus's sudden attack, but he was ecstatic.

Due to the lad's fall to the Darkside-however temporary that may be-he had finally promoted to Sith Lord (low). The difference between a Sith Lord & an Acolyte in a fight was like the difference between a grown man and a young teenager duking it out. Yes, a child could kill an adult, it has happened, but on average, the difference was clear!

Meeting the aggressive teen with his newly enhanced, automatically upgraded Soresu, Kaine patiently played Ferus until he exhausted the boy. Seeing a minor slip up, he finally found his chance, and plunged the crimson blade deep into Ferus's chest.

“Aughhh!” The teen screamed in pain as the scorching paralytic heat of the lightsaber set to training mode sent him to the ground.

“Awake now?” Kaine asked, whilst collecting the green lightsaber.

“Why did you do this? For some sick, twisted amusement?” Ferus gasped from the ground, clutching his chest.

“Very good, you haven't lost your mind.” Kaine smiled happily, tossing the green blade back to him. “As for why? Why to let you understand both the power & the risks of the Darkside, of course. Sith, a true Sith, does not fall prey to his emotions. He wields the Force like one does a weapon. Today is but your first lesson. To control the Force, one must understand what it feels like to be controlled.”

“I, I don't understand. Why teach me? My word was to travel with you for three missions.” Ferus gulped, and slowly stood up as the pain began to fade.

“Because I see something of myself in you. Hopeful for a brighter future, yet unwilling to be tied down by orthodoxy. It may come as something of a shock to you, Ferus, but I am nothing like a traditional Sith. Our current friendship is evidence of that.” Kaine smiled, the red light from his lightsaber casting an eerie look upon his now maskless face within the dimly lit back rooms.

“Friends? With you?” Ferus shook his head, unwilling to even consider such an option.

“Ahh, well, there's your explanation. Now then, shall we?” Kaine shrugged his shoulders, then gestured towards the cages.

“But the blasterfire is still ongoing. The fight in the upper galleries, and just a corridor to the side has yet to settle down.” Ferus got out in a weak voice.

Now that he had a second to compose himself, the Padawan looked utterly wretched. Spent, and completely gassed, he was barely standing.

“Have faith in Durge. Besides, there are a pair of helpers amongst the prisoners that will be of much help clearing the rest of the base out.” Kaine explained in an aloof tone.

Then, with little fanfare, he found a switch, turning on an emergency light system. Dim red light fell upon the scene. Ferus-now sane once again-almost puked once he saw the carnage he had enacted. Kaine gave him a pitying look, as he had felt similarly on Vinsoth. Any normal person would be at least a little disgusted or unnerved by a pile of corpses.

Letting the protag silently come to terms with reality, Kaine cut open the cages one by one. Within one particular cage, the person was tightly bound all over. He was big, black, and almost impossible to see in this dimly lit environment. Intelligence gleamed behind a pair of bestial eyes, and fur coated his massive muscle bound form was full of hidden cybernetics. Kaine sensed a great willingness to murder from this Shadowlands Wookiee. That if he stepped even an inch closer, he would tear away at the tiny gap in his prison, and bite Kaine apart.

Having taken special interest in this Wookiee once the Duros auctioneer had mentioned him, Kaine had looked him up in the database, learning a great deal about him. A bounty hunter & merc, his name was Krrsantan-really Star Wars writers, Curse Satan, a name only Disney could conjure up-and he had been working a gig for the Red Eclipse when he was turned on, and about to be put up for auction. This Wookiee was not very honorable by Wookiee standards, but given his upbringing, that was understandable.

“Betrayed by your allies once again, one can only wonder what ran through your mind when choosing to work for Trandoshans of all people?” Kaine asked in a mocking tone.

Krrsantan didn't move a muscle, and was like a predator waiting to pounce upon his prey. However, that simmering rage bubbling beneath all that fur was quite the potent elixir. In fact, Kaine felt a very minor Force Sensitivity, similar in tier to what Han Solo or Cad Bane would have. Just enough to be a legendary smuggler/bounty hunter, but not enough to be a true Jedi or Sith.

“To survive the Shadowlands, and reach your age, it is clear you are not stupid. No. There must be something that the Red Eclipse possesses that you require.” Kaine idly discussed, as if he were speaking to a friend about what color they should paint their house.

“Hmm. I know!” Kaine suddenly slapped a fist into an empty palm. “It's probably a ton of creds, more strength, and worthy prey, right?”

The Wookiee continued to stare at him, but this time the smallest smidgen of murderous intent was replaced by curiosity.

“Oh yes, I have all these things. As Count Dooku's number two man, I have access to innumerable credits, cutting edge cyberware that will make this second hand Nar Shaddaa junk look like trash, and a plethora of enemies who would cut me down. Although your current state would have others look down upon you, I know better than most the true terror of a Shadowlands Wookiee. Become my bodyguard, Krrsantan, work for Kaine Renstar for the next five years-a drop in the bucket for a long lived species-and all that I have listed shall be yours.”

Suddenly, and without warning, the Wookiee erupted with a massive roar, and uncontrollable strength. The black furred behemoth rose to his full height, snapping chains, and ripping the durasteel collar off, causing metal to shriek as it became twisted and deformed.

Breathing heavily, the Wookiee stared down at him, ready to twist his head off at a moment's notice.

“Magnificent.” Kaine whispered. “You must've been waiting to enact your revenge, and escape during the auction. A true killer amongst killers. Do we have ourselves a deal?”

The Wookiee shoved out one meaty paw for a handshake, a vicious, playful look in his eye. Sensing that this was a test, that there was actually a 50/50 chance of losing his hand here if he played it wrong, Kaine grinned, and immediately shook the dark furred Wookiee's clawed hand. Coating his own hand in the Force, he squeezed. Cybernetic strength & primal might met the supernatural, balancing one another out. Respect rumbled out of the beast's massive mouth in an alien tongue, and Kaine met it with hearty laughter.

“Then we have ourselves an accord. Welcome, Krrsantan, to Team Renstar.”