User:Drewton/Randomness

This is not a place to read, no. Move along, move along.

Space is cold. Dead. Harsh.

It is endless blackness filled with the shining stars of the dark knight.

Above all, space is a void that has no limits; a vacuum which draws in all living things to substation its being. It is a hunger.

Such is true with Darth Nihilus, a Dark Lord of the Sith. All things exist to serve him, so that he may feed on them until there is –

Nothing. A black void resembling the Dark Lord himself.

There is now only the shell of his armor upon the shell of a man. During a fateful battle in the Mandalorian Wars, he cast aside his code, his being, his identity, and gave in to the dark side of the Force, with the only intent to survive.

His spirit was at first doomed to be confided to the surface of Malachor V, a graveyard of the world on which he had fallen. But he had managed to find a way into known space.

From Malachor’s depth, he tore a vessel which had been a victim of the great battle above what remained of the world’s atmosphere. A ship that should not have even been space worthy.

That is the extent of his power.

He is a wound in the Force, more presence than flesh, and in his wake all life dies.

Sacrificing itself to his hunger.

But he knows that there is no strength to the hunger he possesses. He is already dead, it is simply a question of how many he kills before he dies.

And he knows that there must be one to continue his legacy.

The Dark Lord who intends to destroy all life learned to influence the midi-chlorians, ironically, to create one who will continue his goal of destroying both Jedi and Sith.

And that one, he hopes, will eventually destroy himself.

Silent, Darth Haagen knelt on the bridge of the Ravager as his Master, the Dark Lord Nihilus, held a scarlet blade above his head in a knighting ceremony.

Haagen knew little of his past, nor did he care for it. His only purpose, he knew, was to serve his Master and eventually continue his goal once he had died: destroying all life in the galaxy. Both innocents and criminals. Both Jedi and Sith.

Including, when that was done, he himself.

That was the only future he even considered, for that was the future. His Master had foreseen it.

More importantly to him was the present. The Sith ceremony was now complete. At last, he was a true Sith.

To Haagen’s surprise, the shadow that was Darth Nihilus projected memories into his mind of his training from the beginning of anything he could even recall. Memories of pain, and suffering.

Suffering had only made him stronger.

His Master never spoke to him in Galactic Basic, the standard language used throughout the galaxy, instead preferring to use the Sith language. Haagen had learned the basics of the language from the databanks of the dark world Malachor V, but Nihilus spoke an ancient dialect which Haagen failed to find any information on, and so found unintelligible.

In order to successfully communicate with his apprentice, Nihilus projected images and feelings along with his words into Haagen’s mind.

The memories that the shadow was currently projecting into the young Sith’s mind concluded with the fact – the reminder – that, though he was now a true Sith, he still served him.

“You are the darkness in which all life dies, my lord,” Haagen said bowing with a voice that was as cold as the mountain peek which fueled the fire within himself. “All life exists to feed your power.”

Haagen felt Nihilus’s approval through the Force. Though Haagen was completely loyal to his Master, he still felt a wave of hate for him. Hate for what he had done to him, for the scars that he had inflicted upon him.

Nihilus encouraged this.

Hate, Nihilus told him often, was the essential feeling that a Sith must feel; the driving force that urged him on when no other emotion existed. Most of all, hate unlocked the most powerful dark side energies within him and would win him many battles.

Now the shadow taught Darth Haagen the final lesson: to hate himself.

He himself was the only Haagen really, truly knew. He knew his greatest faults, his weaknesses, his breaking points.

And he would have to hate everything he stood for. The Sith teachings were merely a necessity, the path that must be taken to unlock the hate that would bring complete destruction. The strength that would gain him victory. The victory through which his chains would be broken.

In that single moment, Haagen burned in his own flame of hatred, hatred which he felt for everyone and everything. Hatred for the shadow standing before him, for the bridge he knelt on, for the durasteel which covered the entire vessel, and for the stars themselves.

In the end, the shadow was the only thing he could rely on.

Again, Haagen felt his Master’s approval echoing through the Force. He had understood the lesson, a lesson that was the final breaking point of many apprentices, perfectly.

The young Sith rose, prepared for what was to come.