***WARNING: THIS SUBMISSION IS ABOUT A DARK EVENT IN THE PAST CONCERNING ELLAC’S ABUSE/PARENT’S DEATH. THIS IS NOT A FAMILY FRIENDLY STORY.***

*Contains domestic violence

“Get up!”

Ellac heard his father's voice shout above him as he spat the blood from his mouth onto the floor. Pushing himself to his knees, he felt the toe of a boot slam into his stomach, knocking him onto his stomach.

“I said get up!”

Ellac shot up in his bed, gasping and dripping with sweat. “Just a dream… It was just a dream,” he said, reassuring himself as he forcefully steadied his breathing. His room was quiet, with only electricity humming in the lightbulbs and the rhythmic ticking of the chronometer to add to the sound of his slowing breaths.

Pushing himself up from his bed, he walked over to the bathroom sink, splashing himself with cold water. His whole body was sore, aching all the way to his bones from the tension in his muscles, and the bag under his eye did little to hide the lack of sleep he’d been getting recently. But it wasn’t just his body. His mind was foggy too, muddled even. Off-balance due to the nightmares that showed no sign of stopping.

From the other room, the sound of his apartment door sliding open snapped him out of his wandering thoughts. His hands raised slightly in anticipation as he rounded the corner, meeting the familiar gaze of his master, standing just inside the door.

“Oh, it’s you,” Ellac said, letting his guard drop.

Sykes glanced around the room, sizing it up with his usual glare. “Cute place.”

“You could’ve told me you were coming,” Ellac scoffed.

Sykes took a few steps into the room, turning his glare on him. “I could also cut your tongue out and feed it to you if you’re not gonna keep it in check.”

The fatigue was doing very little to temper his growing intolerance of the conversation, but as much as he wanted to snap back, he could feel the irritation sapping away at his energy. “Whatever. You’re here now, so it doesn’t really matter. Besides, you didn’t come for a social visit,” he said, squinting doubtfully at his master. “Why are you here?”

Sykes reached down, imputing a command into one of his vambraces that opened a hidden compartment. In one swift motion, he raised his arm, releasing a toxin-filled dart that lodged itself right into the side of his apprentice’s neck.

“What the-” Ellac’s hand reflexively went to his neck where the dart had injected him. “What the hell are you doing?” His whole body began to numb as he stumbled backwards into the table by his bed, collapsing onto the floor. His mind began to fog, his vision blurring and his breaths became shallow as his consciousness slipped further and further away into what seemed like the beginning of another one of his nightmares. “No… No, frak, No!,” he tried to shout, but his mouth refused to move.

Sykes crouched down in front of his paralyzed pupil, slightly cocking his head as he looked into Ellac’s panicked eyes. Drinking in the fear that radiated in the Force around him, a small, malicious smirk spread across Sykes’ face. “Time for another lesson.”

•••

Ellac’s eye cracked open as the paralysis from the toxin began to subside. His cheek throbbed from laying facedown on the cold stone floor, and the earlier tension in his body had formed a knot in his shoulder. Ironically, he actually felt a little more rested after being unconscious for who knew how long. On the ground in front of him his laid his lightsaber, the only tool it seems Sykes was willing to leave him.

Clipping the weapon to his belt, his hand went up to the still-tender spot on his back where the dart had found its mark as he rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling above him. The room he found himself in was a dim space, barely bright enough to make out his surroundings as he pushed himself up off the ground. “Where am I?”

“Ellac…” A muffled voice echoed through the room, bouncing from wall to wall. It sounded like someone he recognized, but with the distortion, he couldn’t quite place who.

The hair stood tall on the back of his neck as Ellac quickly leaned forward onto his knees, his head on a swivel after what happened with Sykes. “Who’s there?”

Silence hung in the air as his own voice seemed to echo back at him.

“Stop hiding and show yourself!”

“Ellac,” The voice called out again, closer than it was before.

Ellac looked around again, but couldn’t see anyone else in the room, but it began to dawn on him that he knew this place… The furniture, the walls, the house itself was the very same as the one Ellac had spent his early childhood in. The same one that his parents died in. His heart began to race as he realized where he was standing. “Come on then!” he shouted out into the air, rising to his feet. “Come on!”

“Son.” The voice said, any distance or muffling it had now completely gone, and its echo had been silenced, speaking clearly to Ellac as if someone were standing right behind him.

Ellac froze where he stood at the voice in his ear. A lump formed in his throat as he recalled where he had heard the voice before. “No… You’re dead… You’re dead, I killed you,” he said, his chest heaving as he spoke.

“You are too weak to kill me. You have always been weak.” His father’s voice was almost hissing now as it spoke into Ellac’s ear. “Isn’t that right, boy?”

Ellac’s hand instinctively summoned his lightsaber, igniting it as he swung as hard as he could behind him. The blade cut through the air, but made no contact.

A sharp pain shot through his back as a blast of electricity arced from his father’s fingers from behind him, the energy surging through his nervous system. Ellac yelped, dropping his lightsaber as he fell to his knees, his singed robes beginning to smolder.

“Get up, Ellac!,” his father’s voice spat above him.

The toe of his father’s boot slammed right into Ellac’s stomach, knocking him onto his side.

“I killed you! I crushed your neck with my own hands!” Ellac shouted up at the figure before him. This was the first time he had fully seen his father since he appeared. His eyes were dark and cloudy, and there were bruises covering his neck where someone’s hands had wrapped around it. He hunched slightly forward as if he weren’t fully alive, but not dead either.

“Not in your mind, boy! I survived in your fear! You kept me alive!,” his father cackled.

As Ellac pushed himself to his knees, another boot caught him on the side of his head, sending him sprawling onto his stomach. His vision flashed white as the room spun, the shock of the impact causing his head to throb.

Stepping over Ellac, his father crouched down, grabbing his son’s neck with his hands, squeezing his neck as he leaned into his face. “You disappoint me, Ellac. After everything you’ve been through, you’re still weak.” He jammed his thumb into Ellac’s empty eye socket, causing the boy to cry out in pain. “Nothing but a coward, frightened of a dead man,” his father hissed as he watched Ellac gasp for air, struggling to stay conscious. “Come on, boy! Fight back, just like you did when I killed your mother.”

Ellac’s eye went wide at his father’s words. Concentrating his mind on the Force around him and his father. Ellac thrust both of his arms up towards his father, sending him flying into the air, landing with a heavy thud off to the side. Pushing himself to his feet, Ellac noticed every ache in his body. The sting in his back, the ache in his stomach, the pulsating throb in his head, all screamed out as he stood tall above his father on the ground. The Force around him grew dark as it passed through him, his own Dark Side energy corrupting it as he drew in more and more. The fear that had plagued his mind melted down like heated metal being poured into a mold to forge it into a deadly weapon. From his fear a deep anger grew, and from that anger grew his hatred, and from that hatred… His rage.

His vision faded as the world around him fell away. The last thing his eye could see was his father, rising to his feet. Extending his hand, Ellac recalled his lightsaber to his hand, its blade igniting with a bright red flash.

“Yes… Give into your anger, boy! Let it be like the breath in your lungs, and the blood in your viens!”

Ellac lunged at his father, no longer in control of his own movements. The Dark Side of the Force coursed through him, combining with his instincts to guide his blade towards his mark, strike after strike.

Dodging and weaving away from every blow, his father had managed to avoid getting hit, but relentlessly being driven into one of the corners of the room, he was losing ground quickly.

As Ellac’s blade spun furiously toward his cornered prey, he raised his weapon to deal the final blow, his lightsaber collided violently into another red blade that had sprung up from the hilt in his opponent’s hand.

The image of his father had melted away, Ellac hesitated for a brief moment as Sykes stood in his place.

“Show me the power of the Dark Side! Show me your rage!” Sykes shouted at his apprentice.

Ellac’s bloodlust pushed him forward, not fully aware of what was transpiring. The two Sith wielded their blades against each other, the Marauder against the Juggernaut, an unstoppable force against an immovable object.

Ellac pushed to his very limit, throwing everything he had at his master until finally exhausting himself. His breaths became ragged as he collapsed to his knees, mustering the last of his strength to look up at his master who stood above him.

Sykes looked down upon his battered apprentice, the malicious smirk finding its place upon his face once more. “Well done, my apprentice. Now you are Sith.”

“Where’s the Rodian?”

“Look, I’d tell you what you want to know, but you’re gonna have to be more specific! There are tons of Rodians in Ebon Ridge!”

A blue light flickered to life in the darkness, shining off Ellac’s face as he glared down at the Devaronian he had by the throat. The light portrayed the rotating bust of a bounty contract that had been opened on a chosen target, a Rodian with green scales and a tell-tale scar that ran across his face from his left ear to the right side of his throat.

“Dweebo Sartoona,” Ellac said. “I know you know him.”

“Dweebo? That’s who you want? Why didn’t you just say so!,” The Devaronian chuckled nervously. “Sure, I know ‘em! He used to do some jobs for me back in the day! Did some real nice work too, I mean real nice, a professional even! B-but I don’t know whe-“

Ellac tightened his grip around his victim’s throat. “That’s not good enough.”

The Devaronian gasped as he tried to squirm free from the Sith’s grasp. “Okay, okay, I know where he is!”

“Talk.” Ellac said, loosening his grip just enough to allow air to pass through.

Relieved to breathe but now even more nervous, his whole body began trembling. “Well, I mean, I don’t know where he is right now, but-“

Ellac began to squeeze his throat again, but the Devaronian yelped in protest.

“WAIT!, I don’t know where he is right now but I know where he’s going to be!”

Ellac pulled the frightened man up as he leaned close to his face. “You are officially out of breath to waste. Tell me what I want to know, and *ONLY* what I want to know, or I’ll close your windpipe permanently.”

“Okay…,” the man panted. “Okay… The last deal I had with him, he said he hit the jackpot. He told me about a deal he scored with one of the bigwigs of those fancy casinos. Apparently Dweebo was gonna make a trade with this guy for a lot of credits, but that’s all I know, I swear!”

“Where is this deal?”

“He said it was gonna be on the outskirts, a place they call the Scrap Pits! But you’ll need an invitation to get in. They don’t let just anyone in, ya know!”

“So where can I get an invitation?”

”I don’t know, I never got one! It’s all very hush-hush. It’s not like they do the most legal stuff in there! Those deathmatches are brutal!” The Devaronian cried.

Ellac dropped the man, rising to his feet. “That’s exactly what I needed to know. Thank you.”

The Devaronian let out a feeble laugh as he crawled onto his knees. “Hey, no problem! Anytime! And thanks for not killing me, ya know? It’s bad for business...”

“Of course,” Ellac said, drawing his blaster from his holster before firing a bolt through the man’s head. “Don’t mention it.”

•••

The sun had barely set under the horizon as Ellac approached the fence to peer inside the salvage yard. Broken pieces of ship debris and speeder parts collected in mounds scattered throughout the lot.
“The *Scrap Pit*?,” Ellac muttered to himself as he slipped through a hole in the wire-mesh fence. “That’s a bit on the nose, even for me.” Being careful not to accidentally kick any buckets or cause something to shift in the piles, Ellac pressed deeper into the salvage. *‘Still, something in the air doesn’t seem right for a place like this.’* To him, it almost seemed as if the piles of wreckage were breathing, quietly humming deep underneath the surface. *‘It’s too… alive.’*

“That’s the only way we like it.”

Ellac spun on his heel, his lightsaber instinctively drawn, but not yet ignited. The source of the voice, standing above him on one of the scrap heaps was a human like himself, holding his head up to stare down his nose at Ellac.

“How’d you get in here?” His accent was thick, almost like that of an imperial, but the way he said certain words like “Way” and “Like” sounded very similar.

“I got an invitation from a friend of Sartoona.” Ellac said. “I came to see him.”

The man above Ellac burst out laughing, as if he couldn’t contain it if he tried. “You want to talk to Sartoona? You mean, with the bounty on his head and all? *Suuure*, please, by all means, he’d be more than happy to see you!” he said, still laughing to himself. “I mean, really? C’mon, you don’t actually think you can just walk in here and sit down with one of our esteemed guests like you’re old mates from the academy, do you?”

“We all have our delusions.” Ellac said, still staring up at him.

“No kidding, mate.” He said with a smirk. “Tell you what, I like you. So here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m not gonna kill you here, and I’m not an unreasonable man, so how would you feel about being the Scrap Pit’s next contender? You and another fighter step into the ring, fight to the death, and if you win, we’ll let you see Sartoona. Sound like a plan?”

Ellac had to stop himself from smiling at the thought of being in another ring fight. “Alright, I’m in. When do we start?”

“Why not now?” The man said, gesturing to a significantly larger pile of scrap in the middle of the yard. “In that salvage heap is the warehouse, and inside there, the ring, and your opponent is already waiting for you. Just remember not to die, and you’ll get what you came for. Now off you pop!”

Ellac looked over to the warehouse for a moment before making his way over to the large mound. A piece of metal slid out of the way, a doorway opening up to the Scrap Pit inside. The ring was about an eight foot deep recess into the ground, with a four foot fence standing on all sides. An office box sat above the standard seats to provide a better view of the fights. In side the ring, a wookie slave had been thrown into center, clearly more of a prisoner than a willing participant.

“Right this way.” One of the thugs inside gestured to a gate in the fence.

Ellac stepped into the ring, the heat from the bright spotlights bearing down on his shoulders.

“How many men does it take to kill these furry little buggers?” Ellac muttered under his breath as he stared at the holo-projection in the center of the assembly that had been gathered in the courtyard of a nearby Clan outpost. The conflict with Taldryan and their merry band of Ewoks was getting messy, with both sides losing ground as quickly as they managed to take it. But as the hunt neared its end, Scholae Palatinae knew they’d need a coordinated assault if they wanted to turn the tide.

“The answer, like always, is too many.” A low voice mumbled from beside Ellac.

The Knight turned his head to see the man standing next to him. “I didn’t think you were gonna come.” Ellac said with a smirk.

The man kept his gaze focused forward as he rolled his eyes. “You and I both know I didn’t get a choice.”

Ellac looked back at the projector as the members of the Clan Summit entered, circling around the table at the center of the stage. “Well, don’t cry too hard about it, Sennix. I didn’t get a say either.” He said, nodding towards the Emperor, who had been the last of the Summit to enter the room.

“Emperor Lap’lamiz?” Sennix said, staring at the Empire’s reigning authority.

Ellac grunted, but didn’t elaborate as he watched Kamjin clear his throat, stepping forward to address his army of Sith and Soldier alike.

“Ladies, Gentlemen, protectors of our beloved Empire, today we face a threat of the most curious variety. As you all know, Clan Taldryan launched an attack on one our own, Shadow Nighthunter, seeking to destroy her Ewok farm and free her pets. This transgression has not gone unpunished, as we dispatched several units to capture Lieutenant Colonel Teebu Nyrrire, and while they may not have managed to apprehend the Ewok Clansmen, we have managed to draw the enemy out into open conflict with our forces. Now the time has come for us to finish them once and for all!”

Roars erupted from the Clan at Kamjin’s words. *Ever the inspirational speaker, Kam.* Ellac chuckled to himself as he watched Nighthunter herself, who had been standing off to the side, drag a skittish-looking Ewok in on a leash, pulling him over to where Kmajin stood.

Kamjin stooped down to greet the creature at his feet with a cruel smile Ellac knew all too well. Grabbing it by the scruff of it’s neck, he hoisted the Ewok into the air as it thrashed about, trying to squirm free. “Adorable, aren’t they?” He said, a small smile spreading on his face. “These are nothing more than simple beasts, and will be dealt with as such.” Another cheer erupted from the Clan. Kamjin let the Ewok drop, and no sooner than he did did the Ewok try to make a mad dash for the door, even before touching back down on the ground.

Shadow raised her hand to the air, the sound of electricity arcing off her fingertips caused the hair on the back of the Ewok to stand straight before it collapsed to the ground in a trembling ball of fur, much to the delight of the audience.

Kamjin lifted his hand to silence the laughter of the Clan members. “Taldryan forces are making their way here as we speak. My orders are simple: All present forces will be divided into strike teams; One large group which will serve as the primary defense of this outpost, and and the rest of you will be tasked with engaging the enemy from their respective flanks. This will effectively divide their focus and allow us to eradicate the opposition. Your detachment leaders will provide you with further details.” He said, detaching one of his lightsabers from his belt, raising it to the air as it sprang to life with a familiar *hiss*. “For the Empire.” His declaration echoed across the courtyard as the men raised their weapons in salute.

“Ready to burn a few of these fleabags?” Sennix jabbed Ellac in the side with his elbow.

“Ready to burn a few more than you, you mean?” Ellac grinned over at his companion.

“Krast! You’re with me!” Someone shouted out behind the two men.

Looking over towards the voice, Ellac saw an Officer that had been standing near the stage approaching with a few Storm Troopers in tow behind him. “Looks like you’ve been assigned your detachment, Sennix.”

“And it looks like you’re with us.”

Ellac felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to see who it was connected to.

A man about Ellac’s height that he didn’t recognize stood behind him, his green eyes locked onto Ellac as he offered an unsettlingly charming smile to the young Knight. Standing behind the stranger, Ellac recognized Kah’ri and Reiden, but he thought he must be missing something the way both of them looked like they were trying to keep from laughing.

“The name’s Thran.” The stranger said, extending his hand. ”Thran Occasus-Palpatine. We can skip the pleasantries, I’ve heard them all so many times. Besides, I already know who you are.”

“Is that so?” Ellac reached to shake Thran’s hand, but the Elder paused for a moment as he inspected the scars along Ellac’s arm.

“Man, Mav really wasn’t kidding when he said he uses you as a chew toy!” He said with a laugh, glancing back at the other two who looked like they were on the verge of hysteria at this point. Looking back, he grabbed Ellac’s hand with a firm shake.

“Why am I not surprised?” Ellac said, looking over Thran’s shoulder at Kah’ri and Reiden.

“Don’t blame us, you’re the one who thought it’d be a good idea to head into the Jungle with Kam.” Kah’ri said, trying to compose himself.

“Guess some people just have to learn the hard way.” Reiden said with a nudge to Kah’ri.

“We’ll at least I learned, all you did was coddle him, Reiden,” Ellac said, pointing at the Equite’s former Apprentice.

Ellac stared blankly at the pale infirmary lights that hung from the ceiling as the medical droid unwrapped the bandages on his arms. “Your burns have all healed. As such, I’m discharging you,” the droid said dryly. “Do give Master Lap’lamiz my regards. Seven years I’ve been serving in this station, and I’ve never had to tend to a single patient as many as I have you. Now get out of here. I’ve had enough of you for one planetary cycle.”

•••

The mess hall was quieter than usual, with a lot of people taking leave to be with their families and friends, or even just to get away from the recent conflicts. But for all the vacationing, there were still those like Ellac who didn’t really know what else to do with his time. Sykes was away on some business with the Clan summit, and the others who had gone on Kamjin’s little ‘Island retreat’ were either still recovering or visiting family of their own. As Ellac slid his tray down the line, shoveling food onto his plate, he noticed a grey-skinned Togruta sitting alone at one of the center tables, glaring at his meal as he tossed it with his fork. His orange eyes glanced over, locking with Ellac’s for a moment before he stood up, dumping what was left of his food in the bin as he left.

“If you’re done gazing at tall, dark, and broody over there, could I be a bother and ask you to go eat in peace so I could get some food?”

Ellac chuckled as he looked over his shoulder at the man behind him, immediately doing a double-take when he saw the blood-red hair and maroon facial tattoos laid over his pale skin, with a black piece of cloth wrapped over his eyes. “…Sorry,” Ellac said, stepping away from the counter.

“Are you?,” the man asked.

“I’m sorry?,” Ellac said, looking back at him.

“You don’t even sound sure anymore,” he poked.

Ellac stared at him in equal parts irritation and intrigue as the man turned with his tray towards the Knight.

“What?” he asked, biting off a piece of bread from his plate.

Ellac hesitated, inspecting the cloth over the man’s eyes. “How can you see?”

“Never met a Miralukan before, huh? Allow me to introduce myself then. Azerith Wesmir. Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said, extending his hand.

“Ellac,” he said, reaching to shake his hand before finding his right hand was extended to Azerith’s left.

“A man with no last name? Someone has trust issues.” Azerith teased, switching his hands around.

“Let’s just say the last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye. So no, not a fan of the whole ‘blind trust’ thing,” Ellac smirked, finally shaking hands with the Miralukan before setting down at the table beside them.

“I see what you did there,” Azerith snickered.

“*Do you?*”

“No, but apparently neither do you.” Azerith sneered. “Sounds like it was a good time.”

“Agree to disagree on that one.” Ellac spooned a bit of the standard issue slop into his mouth as Azerith chuckled between bites.

“Oh yeah?”

“*You* dive headfirst into a pile of poodoo and tell me that you’re having a good time.”

“If I recall,” a familiar voice rang behind Ellac, “it was more than just poodoo.”

“Master. That was rather quick for a summit gathering.” Ellac turned to greet Sykes as he took a seat beside his apprentice.

“It wasn’t nearly as long as I’d have liked,” Sykes said, eyeing his apprentice’s meal with distaste before shifting his focus to Azerith’s plate. “Enjoying Elaina’s lovely cooking, I see.”

“If it can even be called cooking.” The neophyte grinned as he pushed his tray away.

“Trust me, kid, there are worse things to eat. Enjoy this while you can.” Sykes let his words hang in the air as he turned back to Ellac. “We’ve been given a new assignment. Kah’ri and his master will be joining us on this one,” he said, rising to his feet. “You’ve got fifteen minutes. Get what you need, and get down to the hangar.” Sykes’s robes trailed loosely through the air behind him as he made his way to the door. “Oh, and Ellac,” he said without turning back. “**Don’t keep me waiting this time.**”

Azerith grabbed his tray as he rose from the table, waiting until he was confident that Sykes was out of earshot to speak again. “He’s a ray of sunshine, isn’t he?,” he said with a smirk. “Tread carefully with that one.” Placing his flatware in the same bin as the Togruta earlier, the Miralukan left with a nod towards his new acquaintance.

Taking one last bite of his food before doing the same, Ellac jogged down the corridor to the lift that took him back to his quarters. Gathering his weapons from the footlocker at the end of his bed, Ellac glanced over at the chronometer on his nightstand. “Damn, I’m gonna be late,” he said, clipping his lightsaber to his belt. Draping his cloak over his shoulders, Ellac rushed off towards the hangar.

The heavy blast doors slid open as Ellac stepped through, peering through the bustling assortment of pilots and droids to find Sykes leaning against the inner-wall of a primed Lambda-class shuttle, Kah’ri and another man Ellac had never met already sitting in the seats behind him. The muscles in the Hunter’s shoulders stiffened as he approached the ship, sensing the shadow looming over his master.

Sykes glared at his apprentice as he walked up the ramp, the young Sith opening his mouth to speak before closing it again as he continued up the ramp. As he stepped past his master, Sykes grabbed his arm, leaning in close to Ellac’s ear. “I warned you.”

Confusion flashed across the hunter’s face before he realized what Sykes had done. His left arm dangled limply from his shoulder as he pulled away from his master too late. Sykes pushed him down into one of the seats lining the shuttle wall as the poison began to spread to his chest. “Orders are not optional. If you’re not going to follow them, poison will be the least of your concerns. Clear?”

Ellac strained to nod his head as the toxins streaked through his bloodstream, causing his body to fail. The Hunter wheezed as he fought to maintain his breathing.

Sykes reached to the wall above Ellac, closing the bay doors of the shuttle as he commanded the pilot to take off, muttering as he walked towards the cockpit. “And you thought Kamjin was bad.”

The poison from Sykes’ ring began to drag Ellac’s mind into a heavy lull, his vision blurring as he struggled to maintain consciousness. *’This is STILL better than the rancors,’* he thought to himself as the last of his cognizant brain functions were wrest from his grasp.

•••

A sudden bump jolted Ellac from his toxin-induced sleep, his eyes squinting up at the orange evening sky above him. ‘*This isn’t the shuttle.*’, he thought to himself as he inspected the land speeder he was now laying in. Multiple people sat in the speeder around him, their tattered clothes and bound hands matching the grim expressions on their faces as they rode to whatever fate awaited them.

“Hey, you’re finally awake.”

Ellac craned his neck as he looked over to the man who spoke, doing another double-take when he recognized the red hair and blindfolded eyes of the man sitting in the speeder beside him. “Azerith?”

“Fancy meeting you here,” the Miralukan chuckled. “You’ve been out for a while.”

“Just having another good time,” Ellac sighed, trying to push himself up before realizing his hands had been bound, too. “What the…?”

“Oh yeah, looks like we’re slaves now,” Azerith said, raising his hands to show a pair of stun cuffs.

“What are you talking about? **Hang on, why are you even here?**”

“I didn’t have anything better to do, and I wanted to know what you guys were up to, so I kind of, sort of peeked at your shuttle’s navi-computer when no one was looking and I followed you guys over here. I showed up just as the rest of our friends here were loading onto the speeders,” he said, gesturing to the other slaves. “When I saw that master of yours toss you into this speeder, I followed suit.” Azerith smiled.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Ellac said, pushing himself up with his elbow. “As soon as Sykes finds out-”

“Oh, he already knows,” Azerith interrupted with a grin. “He saw me jump in the speeder, but he couldn’t do anything to me without rousing suspicion, so here we are.”

Ellac shook his head with a laugh. “You’re either crazy or brilliant.”

“It’s funny how often those two coincide,” Azerith said, maintaining his grin.

“Quiet back there!” the pilot growled from the front of the speeder.

Ellac looked over at the other slaves, realizing that they hadn’t uttered a word since he woke up from his ‘nap’. Recall the earlier incident, Ellac also noticed that he hadn’t seen Kah’ri or Reiden since the hangar. “Where are the others?” he asked in a hushed voice to Azerith.

“The only other person I saw get out of your shuttle was *that* guy,” Azerith said, pointing towards a brown-haired man riding in another speeder in front of the one these two were in.

*‘So there IS a plan,’* Ellac thought to himself, noticing the same grim expression on the ‘passengers’ in the other speeder. *’But of course Sykes didn’t feel inclined to share it.’* He shook his head in frustration, turning back to Azerith. “Did you happen to find out where they’re taking us?”

“Nope. I just hope it’s not one of those places like the Hutts on Tatooine. They’ll feed you to a rancor if you look at them sideways,” he said, realizing his poor choice of words as Ellac’s expression began to match the slaves’ next to him.

Ellac clenched his teeth at Azerith’s words, pushing the memories of the Arx Colosseum from his mind as he looked up to the enormous structure as they emerged from the tree line. “Looks like we won’t need to guess,” he said, pointing up at the castle before them. “That’s [INSERT SYNDICATE NAME HERE]’s castle.

The two speeders slowed to a stop as they approached the massive gates, the pilot in front passing a datapad to one of the many guards posted at the perimeter. Ellac and Azerith were too far to hear what they were saying as they inspected the shipment of ‘cargo’. Handing the datapad back to the pilot, the first guard waved his hand, signaling for the gate to be opened a moment before the two solid steel plates slid open just enough to allow the speeders to pass through.

“I’ve got a bad feeli-“ Azerith started as their speeder passed by a menacing looking guard.

“Don’t say it,” Ellac cut him off, looking up at the castle.

“Fine,” the Miralukan said with slight disappointment. “So what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Then what are we doing here?” Azerith asked as they drew nearer to their destination.

“**I** am here on assignment from my clan. **You** decided to follow us, so like it or not, you’re part this now.” Ellac said plainly. “So do me a favor, and don’t get yourself killed.”

Ellac and Azerith watched as the speeders pulled into a wide tunnel at the far side of the building that appeared to function as a loading bay both for outgoing and incoming shipments. Carrying the latter, the speeders pulled to the side, stopping before a door that seemed to lead deeper into the castle.

“Everybody out!” A burly red Twi’lek barked as he strode out from the doorway. Ellac guessed by the white and gold armor that he must be some kind of Captain. The young Sith hesitated a moment as Azerith stood to follow the rest of the ‘passengers’ as they slowly shuffled out of the vehicles. “Are you deaf? I said get out!” the Twi’lek said, signaling a nearby guard who climbed into the back of the speeder, grabbing Ellac by the neck as he shoved Azerith out of the vehicle.

The Miralukan crashed onto the stone ground, wincing as his shoulder softened his fall. “Easy tiger,” he chimed between coughs. Another guard jabbed him in the side with an electro-baton, causing Azerith to yelp in pain. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he looked up the guard with a grin. “I’m *shocked*. Is this how you treat your guests?” **ZAP!** Azerith yelped again as the guard pulled him to his feet. “Worth it,” he choked out as the guard pushed him through the door.

“You wanna play wise-guy too?” The guard snarled at Ellac, tightening his grip around the young Sith’s throat. Ellac grimaced as he reached for his lightsaber, his bound hands finding nothing but his empty belt. ‘*Great.*’ he thought as the guard threw him to the ground, knocking the air from his lungs as the back of his head hit the stone, his head throbbing as his vision turned grey. A few more nearby guards came and grabbed Ellac by his arms as they dragged him inside.

Ellac’s eye strained as he tried to take in the room, his sight still spinning from the impact. It looked to be a staging area for their cargo, with variously sized crates stacked against to one side of the room..

“Backs to the wall, all of you!” the Twi’lek shouted, following after Ellac.

Spirit’s broken, the slaves slowly turned their backs to the crates like drones under a hivemind. The guards dragged Ellac to his feet as his head began to clear. Falling in line with the others, he noticed Kah’ri was missing from the lineup. *‘Really?‘*

“Welcome to [INSERT SYNDICATE NAME HERE],” the Twi’lek interrupted his train of thought. “My name is Captain Tyba Da’iim. I will be your new master.” He sneered, baring his artificially sharpened teeth in a twisted grin. “Let me make something clear to you. You are not servants here, you are *slaves*. You have no value here aside from your usefulness to me. If you cannot obey the commands given to you, I will put an end your worthless lives, the only act of mercy any of you should expect to receive. Have I made myself clear?” he asked, the slaves answering his question with silence. “I’m glad we have an understanding,” Tyba said with a nod, turning to walk away as he told the guards to take them to their cell.

The guards pushed the slaves into the hallway outside of the cargo area, they natural glow of the evening sky being replaced with the artificial lights inside the castle. Ellac squinted as the guards led them through the hallway, the polished prismatic floors throwing the light back up at him. Finally arriving at their the new living space, Ellac recognized multiple races of some of the prisoners who had experienced the misfortune of meeting Captain Tyba before he did. The guards pushed them forward, despite there being multiple empty cells, and forced them all into one wider cell at the far corner of the hall. “Enjoy your stay!” one of the guards taunted as the closed the door behind them. As soon as the the door had been locked, the slaves stun cuffs fell from their wrists.

“Very hygienic,” a bruised Azerith said, inspecting their new living situation. “At least it’s roomy.”

Ellac nodded, rubbing his wrists as he joined Azerith in examining the cell. It looked to be considerably bigger than the neighboring cells, but with about a dozen slaves all together, any thought of privacy quickly became a distant memory. “The sooner we get this done, the better.” Ellac said.

“Any ideas?”

Ellac grit his teeth as he remembered that Kah’ri had disappeared. “No, not yet.”

“Well, we need to figure something out, ‘cause some of the slaves from the other speeder are looking at us like we’re ‘entertainers’ in a cantina.”

Ellac shook his head at Azerith as he glanced over at the other slaves. However odd his expression, he was right about them staring. A particularly beefy Duros made no effort to avert his eyes as they locked with Ellac’s.

“So what now?” Azerith asked, drawing Ellac’s attention back from the other slaves.

“I don’t know,” Ellac said, leaning against one of the walls of the cell as he stuck his hands into his pockets, his fingers brushing against the tip of a vial before he pulled it out to inspect it. “What is this?” Ellac stared at the small vial of clear liquid that had been placed in his pocket.

“Where’d that come from?” Azerith asked in a hushed voice, noticing the vial.

“It looks like…” Ellac stopped for a moment as he twisted the cap open just enough to smell its contents. “…Poison,” he continued. “No doubt belonging to Sykes.”

“Why do you have it then?”

“Well, knowing my master, it’s some kind of test,” Ellac said, turning the vial in his hand.

“What kind of test?” Azerith asked.

“The kind where failure isn’t an option,” the young Sith said, his eye staying fixated on the vial “This is likely a ‘gift’ intended for someone important here, in which case my job is to make sure they get it.” Ellac looked up at the locked cell door, instinctively reached for his lightsaber before realizing again that Sykes had confiscated his gear.

Azerith grinned again as he felt Ellac’s rising tension. “Don’t worry about the door. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” he said, patting Ellac on the shoulder as he eyed the Duros again. “Oi, Muscles! You want to help us get out of this cell?”

Standing from his spot on the ground, the Duros walked over to Azerith, cracking his knuckles in the typical tough-guy routine. “No point in tryin’. They’ll kill us all before we leave the cell block.”

“Well, better to die free than to die a slave, right?” Azerith chimed.

“I’d rather not die at all,” the Duros said, turning back towards the other slaves in the cell.

Azerith’s cocked his head as he reached into the Duros’ mind with the Force, a hint of a mischief creeping onto his face. “So you’d leave your wife and daughter to fend for themselves? You’d rather slink back into your corner with the rest of these cowards than see your family again?”

The Duros spun on his heel as he grabbed the Miralukan by the throat, as he brought their faces close together. “How do you know about my family?”

“That’s not all I know, Lithmar.” Azerith’s grin widened, even as the Duros tightened his grip.

“How do you know my name? Who are you?!?”

“I’m the man offering you a chance to win back your freedom.”

Lithmar maintained his grip as he stared at Azerith’s face. “A chance? That’s all you’ve got? A *chance*?”

Ellac’s frustrating grew to anger as he lifted his hand towards the Duros for a moment, wrapping the Force around his neck as if it were his own fingers as Lithmar began to cough and wheeze, his own grip on Azerith loosening. “Would you rather see what **I** have to offer you?” Ellac spat at the Duros. “Take a moment to consider that you’re not locked in a cell with those guards. You’re locked in here with *me*, and I will give you no such chance,” he said, Lithmar’s blue skin fading into a light shade of purple as his eyes began to bulge. “Now tell me, Duros, which would you prefer?” Ellac released his grip as he dragged his victim to the his knees.

Lithmar gasped as his windpipes opened again, sweat pouring from his domed head. “No more!,” he shrieked between breaths. “No more!”

“Good choice,” Ellac said, turning back towards Azerith who stood in a brief stunned silence at the young Sith’s rage.

Ellac sipped the glass of wine in his hand as the alarm beside his bed chimed. He had woken up a few hours ago, but he forgot to turn it off. Ceremonies always put him in a contemplative mood. Clicking the power to the alarm, Ellac turned his gaze back to the viewport in his room, staring out into space. His mind drifted to thoughts of his home on Raxus and of his parents. A life he had left behind for the Brotherhood.

Another chime interrupted his thoughts, his holoprojector beeping on the table behind him. “And so the day goes on,” he said to himself, gulping down the last of his drink. The holoprojector flickered to life as Ellac picked up the device, his master’s image forming in his hand.

“Today’s the award ceremony. Wear something nice.” Sykes’ voice echoed softly around the room.

“Good morning to you, too,” Ellac chuckled. “And I’m already dressed.” He looked down at the his black suit.

“Good. I’ll see you there.” Sykes said, ignoring his first comment. The image faded as Ellac’s room fell back into silence.

“Oh well. Time to get moving,” Ellac said as he set the empty glass on the table, picking his A180 blaster up as he clipped the projector next to the lightsaber on his belt. *“I’d rather have it and not need it.”* he thought to himself, holstering the pistol. Grabbing his cape from the rack beside the door, Ellac left for the ceremony hall.

“You clean up nice.” A voice said beside Ellac as he stepped into the lift that would take him directly to the award hall. “Well, aside from the… you know.” Already standing inside the lift, Adept Kamjin Lap’lamiz smirked as he gestured at Ellac’s missing eye.

“If I remember correctly, I have you to thank for this little souvenir.” Ellac chuckled as he input the floor number into the lift controls. “Given the occasion, I’m not sure if I should be calling you Maverick or ‘Sir’,” he said, extending his hand towards the Sector Admiral.

“It’s a special night. You can call me ‘Sir’ if you’d like, but just for tonight.” Kamjin smiled as he shook the young man’s hand. “I hear you got promoted. ‘Hunter Ellac Conrat’. Congratulations.”

“You had a part to play in that, Sir. Thank’s for giving me a chance back on Arx.”

“You know what? I’ve changed my mind. No more formalities for you.” The two men laughed as the lift slid to a stop, the doors opening to the entrance of the ceremony hall. “Well then. Shall we?”