The song 'Turbo Killer' by Carpenter Brut, found here officially on their channel. It reflects the wild shift between feel power and triumphant. Even the doubt and worry the moment he thinks, or discovers, his opponent in whatever battle.. could possibly kill or capture Ondur. I hope i understood and followed correctly.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wy9r2qeouiQ

Ondur's been standing in one spot staring at a projection of his home planet for twelve hours. This is not out of desperation. Though he would enjoy a visit for the first time in a long while. It is his main form of meditation lately. The lessons of struggle and backstabbing, the bond of those few you trust until you toss them away. Those are channeled inside Ondur for everything. Especially meditation and focusing on Number One, himself. Nerve shredding moments where indecision would give your killer, your opponent, your enemy of whatever total victory.

Deep inside he misses the constant darkness and connection to the Dark Side itself there. The chance to be alone with IT, the very power in and around him. Ondur is going to return and Force a lot of relaxation on the petty squabbling idiots. Those with the Force can join him and the Brotherhood or they become one with it.

So here he stands, standing being a position of power. He reminds himself that his strength is a nit and some lice compared to others..

But it is his own. Perhaps he could take a planet all his own, and reshape it in the image of Umbara. Only better, more beautiful, with a Ruling class.. Just him of course. No war even! Except the thrashing inside his heart and soul. This was usually part of the routine, the piece of the plan where he sits and deactivates all light source. Of course he can see fine, well, fine compared to a blind human fumbling around. Then there is to come his favorite meditation.

Here now, is the beautiful practice he called: Go in your head and spread the darkness. Even smear the damn power all over the place. Remembering what his failings were and imagine triumphant laughter. his or is it the Dark Side itself that had been laughing each time he set this stuff in motion? Bringing to life the days where he was weak in the Force but still had to beat the life out of children, rival children, and sometimes it fully involved beating out their life entirely.

As he trained away from the Dark Brotherhood, there were time he had to hunt down fools. He had to chase and kill escapees. Sometime slaves and other times other Force users. The focus always grew strongest when he thinks about the many times he feigned that he would let them go. The surprise that blew out their face when he demonstrated that he had lied; That was fun. It wasn't cruel. It was Umbara.

Then he would like to focus on the family. Not his. But those that had many come and trained. They varied with power in society. They often varied highly with their access to the Force. Testing his manipulation and how he envisioned the fates of his cohort. He especially enjoyed bringing a younger student to hunt the rogue escapees. It taught them what happened if you try. And sometime he saw weakness in his little helper and chose to report of the tragic loss of such potential, especially if the students he executed were friends or family to his rivals. Ondur did have a petty streak. At least more than now. Of course he wasn't a wanton psychopath. Ondur was trained by the Academy's own Krypteia. Weed out the Weak, There Go The Paperwork Left For The Weak. It was their creed. It was his tool.

His meditations focused on the heart pumping, muscle aching, triumph over someone or something that was in your way. Accident or no, it was the end of that.

The Gift Come Midnight

The gift Ondur had always wanted more of was knowledge, wisdom, secrets, and forbidden artifacts older than living memory could recall. He wanted what only dead memory or nearly dead things could recall. His studies span so much time and mastered with such intensity it's almost as if he was there in the flesh. Ondur has become a scholar of sorts in his time at the Brotherhood. A killer scholar fairly literally. But a calling he never thought would call so powerfully in his heart if at all. The lust for the forbidden intangible secret which could do things even the Force might call impossible.

Maybe that's a start, the Force somehow speaking. At least as with a voice and clarity both of it's own. He heard it grants visions and sensory insight to those who have a certain strength in some power. Yet they always sound useless. What sort of gift is that? One could write four sentences nearly at random and become an instant Prophet. Though perhaps not as good as his Master and Teacher. Apparantly the very same whom had been known under the callsign 'Prophet', especially at piloting in the worst conditions, with the best results. So Ondur always put little care in any such ramblings, Force or not.

At first dark Ondur had warmed into his meditating routine. Alternation between feverish recollections of blood and gore. Sights into abysses so dark even he needed to be outside for the ultraviolet light to make due for his eyes. Then he'd take reins and see by choice. Umbara in total shrouded glory, triumphant darkness which turned the most homesick of his kind to sick delight. The very same that made humans paranoid, so horribly and instinctively terrified, for those of intelligence at the least, and every race but his own and few others blinded by shrouds.

What a gift that would be, a shroud-robe made in some way by the very darkness covering his homeworld. Perhaps there was a way with dark alchemy, or knowledge lost even if ever known. Irrelevant, the meditation had been stopped. The thought so tangible but impossible. He'd have to return to it later. Perhaps in the morning deeper in an isolation chamber unless that will make the dark seem comparable to the splendor of the true darkness he grew up in.

"I'll be damned to stare down the brightest star at my face.. if I forget Home and it's darkest places. Even the brightest there is nigh blindness to most.", he thought. He relished memories of ambushing foreigners and thrillseekers. He couldn't so much as poke them though. Unless they were targets. He forgot what blood looks like on Umbara. But the Brotherhood is his family, and this is is home now. And he has gained so much knowledge in his time here. Academia has been kind to him, and feeds his passions just as blood did and always will.

It was the darkest hour, "mid-night" some called it. Then the entrance door slid into the ground, opening, for an uninvited guest.

Ondur was ready to break this man. There was no sense of even a trace of untrained Force potential in him.

"Who are you?!" The Umbaran saw that the man was a Twi'lek loyalist. Bearing the sign of the couriers trusted with important deliveries. Very important ones.

The red 'man' responded in Ryl, the first pleasant surprise, though alarming somewhat.

"This package is a gift for the Knight Ondur Lkaetur. Along with a holovid.", it was set to play from the Twi'lek's palm.

It was his Master. "Hey. It's good your're back from studying. I got you a gift to commemorate it. It'll be good to see you, Lkaetur. I told the courier you could understand him and that you go out at about this hour. I hope you didn't make a mess of the good man. Obviously one of those two things I told him was a lie. Well, see you soon Lkaetur."

Ondur mumbled in Ryl for the courier to get out. The man ran out before told fully. As he finished mumbling he opened the package and inside were regal Scholar's robes. Things of beauty and marked plenty with the Shadow Academy Mark. Learning never looked so good.

Ondur was truly glad to be home again.