To tame the beast

[Darth Havok]

The rain had nearly lifted after Havok’s session with his newly acquired apprentice. Their was much to look forward to in the future teachings of such a crafty man.. But turning on to pressing matters, Havok set aside such thoughts for now and turned his concentration onto his journey that lies ahead. Far and wide across the broad face of the Sith Master the words flew: Now is the time..

A short time passed as Havok traveled through the streets, he approaches a garage and after exchanging a few words with the guards on duty he sped off in a speeder bike to a hanger located outside of the city. A hanger in which a ship awaited for his departure to space.

Arriving at the hanger he pulls the bike into a storage area, and boards a personal vessel of his, the Oracle.. After liftoff he sends a communiqué to The Empire headquarters telling them of his leave, but not confirming his destination over the com for security purposes. Pushing through the atmosphere the vessel stabilizes and locks into a short orbit of the planet. Reaching it’s coarse it breaks orbit and not seconds later enters the folds of space..

Exiting hyperspace he immediately calls forth the Darkside in search of a presence he knew to be located in the sector. A sweat appears on his brow as he continues his search for the force user. His apprentice had accomplished what was most essential in this upcoming journey.. Masking his force presence, through a balance of will and lasting determination.. A small but proud grin graces the face of the Sith Master but for a moment as he doubled his efforts in sensing his apprentice. As the ship drew nearer the secret planet Havok broke the barriers of his apprentices techniques and felt his presence for just a moment; though not without straining himself some in the process. He might have done that purposely, Havok thought as the ship entered the planets atmosphere and reached a flat landing area..

Walking down the platform the Sith can feel the absolute intoxicating feeling streaming through his every vein. as his feet touch the surface of the planet he takes a knee in reverence, and utters a few unheard words paying his respect to the countless elders of evil ones who reside. He takes a seat, crossing his legs with one another he presses his hands together, positioned in the center of his chest he takes in a deep breath and rises them up over his head, bringing them down in a slow motion as he exhales.. They come to a rest on his knees and his open palms face upward and his preparatory meditations begin.

[GuardPiett]

"Eey ay easu donnie meh.."

"Doghna eey es requiem.."

"Ee ay easu donnie meh.."

"Doghna eey es requiem!"

"Eey ay.." He stopped. He stopped! Unforgivable. But there was something.. A presence. Havok. He knew it.

The Force snaked from his body, phantom tendrils probing for the Sith Master. For a split second, the connection was established... One sacred, Master and Apprentice, but the two weren't being connected by the Force. It was intuition. But as quickly as it originated, twas severed.

Sean Piett, dictating the prophesies of the Fallen Sith, had been disrupted. Not by the Force, but by instinct. He prided himself on it, actually. He was proud that he didn't lean on the Force constantly for support.

He gazed at the masses, gathered in the memorial square. Thousands, hundreds of thousands, paying homage to their Gods, the Sith. Not one said a word. Piett opened his mouth, to complete the verse of the Massasi morale hymn, then closed it, as if he were simply grabbing for air.

Suddenly, like a droid, suddenly snapping free of hindering rust, he jerked his chin and indeed, his entire head, gazing above, at the sky. That vast, endless sky. And he stretched his arm, and he spoke his words.

"Anchient ancestors, Sith of old- into your hands I commit the masses- flung into your mouth are the spirits anew. May the slaves serve you better in death than in life!"[i]

With a noble bow of his head, he began muttering, quietly, but his voice rose, slurred, the once silent, clear words booming, bundled together. With his voice rose his head, eventually staring directly up, up at the sky, up at eternity. The words went on, but his mouth was wide open, still. The crowd stared in hypnotized awe as his eyes flared with inner fire and his mouth filled with an eerie red light.

The chanting continued, slurred, loud, said faster, until they ran so closely together the words were imposible to make out. Suddenly, dramatically, they stopped.

A cloud gathered overhead. It glowed scarlet.

Piett blinked.

And thousands died.

He suddenly went limp, grabbed the pedestal for support, drained. Empty. He ambled off, looking for his master.