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Like a shadow, darkness fell upon the Sith encampment. And not just the nightfall, no - *darkness*.
Of course, darkness burned brighter than a flame in every Dark Lord and Apprentice in the camp, that was what made them Sith after all. And, while less focused, it did as well in the soldiers of the army. In a way, this whole, violent world was tinged in darkness, despite it's two suns.
But Lord Kaan felt that other darkness clear as he would've a knife in his side; he knew who it was emanating from, and that it was meant for him and him only. Calmly, he stood from the meditation position he'd been sitting in on the floor and strode out of the thin tent. Rain had begun to pour, thick drops falling from above.
Most of the other Dark Lords were either still out batteling the small battalion of Jedi desperately trying to defend their outpost, or currently resting. Besides the constant sounds of raindrops breaking on the muddy ground, the camp was silent as a cemetery.
Up ahead, closer to the middle of the camp, the dark of the night was broken by a beam of pure, red light, reflected a million times in the falling rain. Kaan subtly moved his hand to his own weapon, but kept a nonplussed expression on his face.
"What? Are you going to kill me?" he called out to his Apprentice, casual smile on his lips.
Vulta's face remained hard, as far as Kaan could tell from the distance. The Alcedian still had one of his sabers activated and held next to him, tip pointing toward the ground. The rain sizzled as it met the hot blade, filling the air around him with steam.
"Not if I don't have to."
Kaan snorted a laugh. His young apprentice had always had a knack for being dramatic. Or he simply took himself way too serious. Kaan had never quite figured out which it was. But right now, there seemed to be something more to it - his mind felt ablaze with certainty.
"We need to talk" Vulta said, narrowing his glowing yellow eyes. "About the Brotherhood."
Kaan's smile grew colder: "You don't need a saber for talking."
Vulta strode toward him, slowly, bringing his scowling face into focus. "It's wrong. The way you and all the others think of the Force - it's wrong."
Kaan, only a few steps away from the younger Sith now, crossed his arms, looking Vulta up and down. This wasn't the first time he'd brought this up - in fact, only a few days ago, they'd fallen out over this and hadn't talked much since. But there was an aura of certainty, purpose, hovering around him now. Someone powerful with a diverging goal was always a potential threat.
"Why don't we speak in my tent," Kaan said, clearly more order than suggestion. He was gently trying to touch his apprentice's mind, just weaken his resolve a bit, but the younger man had his mental barriers up high. Kaan felt almost proud that his pupil had seemingly finally understood that even before the weapons ever clashed, the real battle of minds already begun.
The Alcedian shook his head, looking more like a child unwilling to go to bed than the Sith Master in training he was. Yet after some seconds of silence, he powered down his lightsaber.
"There we go..." Kaan muttered, putting a tentative hand on the young man's shoulder and leading him into the tent. He was honestly glad Vulta was more or less cooperating, and a confrontation didn't seem as inevitable anymore. Kaan was more than able to hold his own in a fight, though direct combat wasn't his strong suit, but it would be a shame to lose an apprentice as good as Vulta over a disagreement of philosophies.
Grudgingly, his student stepped into his master's tent, Kaan closely behind him. He could clearly see how distraught Vulta was, if not by his maelstrom like presence in the Force, clearly by his tense shoulders and overall unrelaxed demeanor.
"Sit," Kaan invited the young Alcedian, gesturing at the floor, then lowered himself into a cross legged position.
Vulta sat down stiffly, eyes glaring intensely at his own hands folded in his lap. Again, Kaan tried to reach out with his conciousness, except this time his apprentice lashed back out, violently pushing his master out of his mind. Kaan grimaced and massaged his left temple, being taken aback by Vulta"s phsychological pushback manifesting as physical pain.
He breathed out, turning his scowling clenched teeth into a tense smile. Vulta finally met his eyes, and Kaan could've sworn there was a sparkle of satisfaction in them.
"So. Say what burdens you, apprentice," Kaan promted, inclining his head slightly and gesturing for him to speak.
Vulta's brow furrowed, and for a few seconds he remained silent. Then he averted his eyes and finally spoke: "We've talked about this before. You know what's bothering me."
"You..." Kaan considered his words carefully. "... aren't completely sure about the way the Brotherhood uses the Force."
Vulta huffed: "I'm not *unsure* about them. I know they're wrong." He paused, waiting for Kaan's reaction, who remained stonefaced as before. "To think the Force is merely a tool to elevate yourself to more power is just ignorant!"
Kaan narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything. What his apprentice was saying wasn't completely wrong, but he wasn't naïve enough to think the young man's doubts stopped there. And his still fairly new Brotherhood of Darkness was still too fragile; if the other Dark Lord's found out their leader's own Apprentice didn't agree with his way of embodying the Sith and their legacy anymore, it was only a matter of time until his whole group fell apart.
"The Force is more than something you can use to fight. It's... it's everywhere, everything, everyone. The Brotherhood doesn't even acknowledge that!"
Kaan was struggling to keep his voice even: "And what do you suppose I do about that? Hm? The Brotherhood isn't the Jedi Order. It's simply an alliance between mostly independent Sith to make sure we don't murder each other more than we do our enemies."
"You said we're planning to take back Korriban. And other Academy worlds," Vulta mumbled. "What are you planning on telling those students? They're not Sith yet. Most of them probably won't even have been Jedi."
"The Academies," he started, voice rising to a louder pitch. "Are a whole different topic. The Brotherhood's goal is it to wipe out the Jedi, and those students will help us with that cause. We don't-"
"Oh, so they're basically just soldiers then?! Are we all just soldiers, little expandable game pieces for you to use at will, just-"
No longer able to keep his calm facade up, Kaan thumped his hand down angerly on the ground in front of him: "Wiping out the Jedi isn't some personal vendetta of mine! The fight between us and them is as old as either group goes back! The whole point of the Sith is to rid the Galaxy of the weak, and the Jedi perfectly embody weakness." Vulta's face remained more or less impassive, but the swirling storm inside of him got stronger. Kaan sighed, lowering his eyes before continuing: "It's not just that you don't agree with how the Brotherhood handles the Force." It wasn't a question.
"The Brotherhood of Darkness has united some of the most powerful beings in the galaxy. It has *so* much potential! And yet all we do is conquer one irrelevant world after another - and for what? To spite the Jedi? To take control of the Galaxy?" Vulta spoke with disgust thickly lacing his words, despite them simply being true. "There's more to the Sith than our rivalry with the Jedi. For generations, we've collected knowledge, perfected our tactics, achieved groundbreaking things in the Force! We weren't just warmongers like we are now!"
Vulta got to his feet, staring down at his master for a second. Kaan could see something in his eyes that made his blood boil more than mere anger or disgust ever could've - pity. "I'm leaving."
Before the young Alcedian even got to leave the tent though, Kaan was already on his feet, the hilt of his saber drawn and pointing directly at the back of his apprentice's - his *former* apprentice's - head: "I can't let you do that."
Vulta glanced over his shoulder, and upon seeing the unignited weapon aimed at him, drew his own two sabers. The next second was a flash of red, everything moving so fast Kaan had to rely solely on his extended senses in the Force to grasp what happened. Vulta threw himself backwards out of the tent, igniting his sabers so they slashed up at Kaan as he fell back. He on the other hand let his own blade flair to life, the deadly beam shooting out to where the Alcedian had been a few microseconds earlier. Instead of moving out of the other's blades' path, he used a simple Forcepush to veer them slightly off course, making them miss him by a few centimeters.
With slow steps, Lord Kaan strode out of the tent, saber held in a reverse grip at his side. Vulta was crouched in a defensive position, blades held up in an X before his torso. For all his aggression towards Kaan, the older man could feel a seed of uncertainty, fear almost, in the Apprentice's mind. Like a vine, he slid his conciousness into the other's, nudging his doubts and dimming out his conviction. Vulta let out a frustrated growl as he noticed his master's meddling, eyes narrowing in anger.
But Kaan didn't give him the chance to lash out. In a quick motion, he stabbed his saber forward, causing Vulta to dodge away to the side. Before the Alcedian could even regain his balance, Kaan was already pressing the next attack, swinging his saber down in a swooshing arc. This way of fighting kept your opponent on their toes, but it also meant constantly pushing one strike after another. It was meant to be used on lesser opponents, or if you needed to buy time, but neither was really the case here.
Vulta was Forcesensitive, but not exceptionally so. What he lacked in his natural affinity for the energy of the universe, he made up with in form of saber skills, brilliant tactical thinking and an immense knowledge about pretty much anything. Naturally falling short of his peers in the Sith had made him tougher, more dedicated. That's what had made Kaan take him as an Apprentice in the first place - everything Vulta had, he'd earned for himself with hard work, not like some lesser Sith in the Brotherhood, whos talents had been given to them at birth.
Kaan knew that in the past, the relationship between Master and Apprentice had been one of betrayal and inevitable murder. That was one of the main things he had wanted to change in the Brotherhood. If the Master knew their Apprentice would murder them at some point, no reasonable Sith would give them the tools to do so. They'd keep their most important knowledge and tactics to themself, and when the Apprentice eventually overpowered them despite this, that knowledge would be lost. The concept's main philosophy was that there could only ever be one Master, but why wouldn't you prefer two Masters leaving the Apprenticeship, both ready to train new students?
Of course, a lot of people in his Brotherhood still didn't trust their Apprentices, which was in a lot of cases a wise decision actually, but Kaan had never felt that strong of a trepidation towards Vulta. He wasn't sure if he'd say he trusted him exactly, but he certainly didn't constantly feel on edge around him. He'd been looking forward to Vulta standing by his side as an equal in the Brotherhood.
That wouldn't happen any time soon though, he thought bitterly as he lashed out with his saber again. Every blow would end deadly if the Alcedian was too slow to parry it, but Kaan knew he would. Their duel had moved a few meters out of the camp, onto the rocky tundra stretching on for miles. Rain was still falling, and the air around them sizzled with drops evaporating on their sabers.
Vulta somersaulted back, sabers drawing bright red lines though the night. Kaan had to grimly admit he was glad for a few moments to catch his breath. He wasn't a duelist, and the battle meditation he'd been using to boost his troops' moral over the course of the last battle had apparently worn him out more than he'd realized. But he wasn't even considering dying in this fight.
The other man's feet hadn't even touched the ground yet again when Kaan already slashed at him, a swoosh at waists height from the side. Vulta wasn't taken by surprise though - he didn't try landing on his feet, instead dropping into an almost laying position. A push through the Force made Kaan stumble, using his momentum against him. The second it took him to regain his balance and spin to face Vulta, the Alcedian used to jump to his feet again.
They stood roughly two meters apart, both holding their weapons in front of them. As they began to slowly circle each other Kaan raised his voice: "So what is you plan right now? Kill me and overtake the Brotherhood to preach to them about your views of the Force?"
"Maybe!" Vulta sneered. "Most of them would accept me as their new leader if I showed them I killed the previous one!"
Kaan clenched his teeth in anger: "The whole point of the Brotherhood is to avoid that!" Of course, he knew that if he - just about the only one actively defending the idea that the Sith shouldn't murder each other - was killed by a fellow Sith, and his own Apprentice nonetheless, it would be all the proof the doubters could ever need to solidify their belief that he was wrong. They might just accept Vulta as their new leader with open arms. Or someone else might want to take their shot and try to kill him, and the whole endless bloodbath the Brotherhood was working against would start again.
Vulta clearly saw that too and didn't bother to continue arguing against Kaan. He lunged at him, sabers coming down from both sides. Kaan blocked them, one with his saber, the other with the Force, but was forced to take some steps back nonetheless.
The rain intensified, and thunder could be heard from the distance. The duel, a deadly dance of blades, continued to move through the bleak terrain, the camp now barely more than a splodge in the distance. Minutes passed, hours perhaps. The two moons still hung high in the night sky though, tinging the world into a silver light.
Kaan hadn't thought Vulta to be this capable a fighter, but several times during their duel, he'd found himself surprised at the Alcedian's tactic and skill. Perhaps Vulta had been the one to withhold information. Still, the younger man had already taken some bruisings, while he had yet to land a serious hit on Kaan.
He ducked out of another slash of the two sabers, stepping back. But as Vulta brought one of his blades up, he was a millisecond to slow to parry it. Kaan couldn't suppress a startled cry of pain as the red, hot weapon met his shoulder. Before it could burn deeper, he pushed it and Vulta with it back with the Force. Still, the wound at the side of his shoulder pulsated with pain, rendering his right arm useless for now. The saber had burned a few centimeters into his flesh, and Kaan didn't doubt he'd be left with a scar for life.
But he wasn't defeated. With his pressed breath, he blew out the physical pain with it. The body was weak, but the mind was not. Through pain came anger, and anger was what fueled the Dark Side in him. He removed his hand from the wound, instead raising it towards Vulta, fingers outstretched.
Still revelling in his momentary victory, Vulta didn't have a chance to throw up his mental walls. He dropped to his knees, eyes wide, hands clutching his head. Kaan's fingers closed in, slowly forming a fist, and with it, his grip on the other's mind tightened. This wasn't a technique he used often, it required far too much concentration and was too straining to be used in normal battle against the Jedi or other foes. But right now, the logical part of his mind succumbed to the pure anger and betrayal that pulsed through his veins.
Vulta screamed, hands digging into the sides of his head. Kaan stepped closer to him, weavering yet manic smile on his lips: "Vulta..."
He didn't know if the Alcedian could hear him over his own screams, but it didn't matter, really. Kaan looked down at him with wide, cold eyes. Despite himself, somewhere deep in his core, he truly felt sorry for the young man. But he'd made his choice.
Their eyes met, and just for a moment, Vulta's were clear, not clouded by Kaan's grasp on his very being. Maybe he saw the silent apology in Kaan's.
Not easing his grip, Lord Kaan reignited his weapon, and with one swift motion slashed it across the younger man's chest. Only when Vulta's eyes slid shut, he let go of his mind.
He could feel his body trembling, a heavy kind of tiredness settling on his bones. His head felt like someone was stabbing it from the inside out and the wound on his shoulder felt ablaze. It would be an exhausting way back to the camp.
Kaan threw a look back at Vulta. He could see his chest rise and fall ever so slightly. No matter. He would soon succumb to his injuries, the aftereffect of Kaan's mental attack only weakening his energy. Here, alone on a hostile world, in such a condition, there was no chance he'd survive. Kaan turned away, pulling Vulta's sabers into his hand through the Force as he walked.
He didn't look back.
Lord Qordis sat among the group of Sith and high-up army commanders in the tactics tent, sweeping his gaze from face to face as the gathered people all stared impatiently at the front of the tent, and the vacant place where Kaan had been supposed to be minutes ago.
Murmurs began to ripple through the crowd, ranging from accusations to almost genuine worry. Qordis didn't join in. While Kaan wasn't usually one to be late, he didn't believe this to be cause for concern yet.
As if on cue, Lord Kaan strode through the entrance of the tent, everyone getting to their feet as a sign of respect. The usual confidence emanating from him like light, and an easy smile creased his face.
Qordis wasn't fooled though. He knew Kaan well, and he could tell there was something wrong. Then he realized a very obvious answer to that; Vultar Daanat wasn't there.
Others noticed it too, Qordis could tell. And he knew Kaan was aware as well, but it didn't shake his confident facade: "Friends." He spread his arms in greeting. Qordis' sharp eye didn't miss that he didn't move his right arm as much, as if he was injured. Something had happened, he was sure of that. "There haven't been any updates from Battalions One and Two, but it's safe to assume they still have the upper hand against the Jedi. The remaining Battalions informed us they're on their way back and should be here in about 4 hours. We should be ready to leave this world by tomorrow."
Despite hoots of joy over their victory from the crowd, Qordis still felt the tension and uncertainty in the room. Kaan continued: "For now that's all the news there is. I will call for a meeting if something changes."
No one stood at the dismissal. Instead, a shout that may have come from Lord Kopecz ripped through the tent: "Where is your apprentice?"
For a moment, Kaan's face fell, an expression cold as ice on his features. He cleared his throat, then looked into the crowd with a hard look: "Vulta Daanat was a traitor. He was a danger to the Brotherhood and I dealt with him. There is no need to speak of him further." Qordis felt Kaan bluntly touching all of their minds, nullifying the rising confusion, anger and fear. It didn't work on him - while his emotions ebbed away a bit, his mind remained sharp as ever, unwilling to let Kaan midtrick his way out of this.
"If anyone needs me, I'll be in my tent." As quickly as he'd come, Kaan left, leaving the tent in a scurrying state of disarray. Qordis stood and followed his leader, unbothered by the cautiously mumbling people around him.
He entered the other Sith's tent without announcing himself: "What is wrong with you?" It was as much an accusation and insult as it was a genuine question.
Kaan whirled around, eyes wide and hand held out like he was expecting to have to defend himself. Angerly, he mumbled: "Never heard of knocking?"
"On a tent?" Qordis asked dryly. He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes a bit - waiting for Kaan's answer.
The Dark Lord threw his hands up exasperatly: "What do you want?!"
"What happened with Vulta? Where is he?" Qordis pressed further.
The air around the other man seemed to crackle with his outwardly emanating emotions. His face was hard as stone as he spoke: "I already said. He's a traitor."
Qordis snorted: "What, did you kill him?" Kaan's look, colder than the void of space, said it all. Qordis was speechless for a moment. Kaan was always going on about how the Brotherhood would be a new start for the Sith, free of the constant murder of their own kin - and now, the first Sith of the Brotherhood killed by one of his fellows had died at his hand?
"He was a traitor," the other man repeated again, hands ever so slightly trembling at his sides.
Qordis forced a smile onto his lips. By the way his brow furrowed, he could see that it surprised Kaan. "Traitors must be delt with accordingly," Qordis nodded. "You did what was right."
Despite his words, he felt a seed of doubt beginning to bloom inside of him. He hadn't thought Kaan a fool of course - the feat of uniting ever Sith willing to follow him under one banner and wiping out every that wasn't clearly spoke of the man's capability and cunning. But Qordis had always considered his fixation on having the Brotherhood of Darkness being one harmonious strong front with no internal murder a weakness. He'd thought that if the moment came when his rule became too overbearing, he wouldn't break his own rules of turning against his Brothers. It had been foolish to think.
"Yes..." Kaan agreed, looking up to meet Qordis' eyes. There was something unsettling in his stare. Like a wild animal. "We're Sith, after all."
Qordis didn't like it one bit.