6

With a combination of brute force, and base telekinesis, Varrus pried the snake's fang from its head.

All the while, every second he gripped the fang, he received electrical shocks.

It came to the point that he had to channel a small, almost constant wave of Lightning Hands into the fang to counterbalance the energy. Interestingly, the fang seemed to absorb Varrus's force lightning.

With a thought, he could-

A giant ball of lightning rushed out of the fang, and collided with the canyon wall.

Large amounts of rocks and debris plummeted into the pond. Great clumps of water poofed into the air.

[Force Lightning lvl 3 -> 4]

[Lightning Absorption lvl 1]

"Excellent." Varrus grinned, all he needed now was to fashion himself a hilt.

Eying a part of the serpent where his lightsaber had parted its flesh, he began to carve into it.

After some effort, Varrus fashioned a crude handle made from the white snake skin.

Reluctantly, he left the corpse behind. Where as the other creatures he encountered in the jungle might have some interest to a Sith Biomancer, or Alchemist, this monster certainly would be worth a credit or two.

After a quick meditation session to recharge his reserves, and top off the fang-blade, Varrus made his way to the unfinished colossus.

The trees on the other side of the canyon were sparse, many stumps were left behind. This man-made clearing provided the perfect view of the statue.

It was a monument similar in size to the Eiffel Tower, truly massive. However…Varrus chuckled to himself. The face looked like the ugliest gremlin to come into existence!

If he was Vowrawn, he would blast that abomination from orbit, and severely discipline the Apprentice who had it commissioned!

Although, if Vowrawn was aware of this, and the slave rebellion. Then perhaps this was a ploy to draw his enemies out?

The man seemed to effortlessly become the Emperor in one of the futures. This was despite the Wrath and Inquisitor and all their overpowered plot armor.

In fact, Vowrawn seemed to know about Darth Baras's oracle for quite some time. Then effortlessly turned the Wrath/Inquisitor into his dog's to complete any mission.

The more Varrus thought about it, the more suspicious he became.

At the very least, he was party to the winning side.

During his journey, the Force directed him to a scruffy bearded bald man. Dried blood clung to his grimy clothes like a fly on shit.

"Who goes there! Oh, a Sith! My Lord, I didn't see you there! The others will be so excited!"

Varrus hesitated to draw his weapon, but ultimately decided to play along.

"Others?"

"Oh yes! Come my Lord, come! The Unchained have prayed for this day!" The bearded man repeatedly bowed, and turned to lead Varrus into a camp.

The camp, if it could be called such, was a loose collection of canvas tarps, and pit fires.

Everywhere Varrus looked, there were dozens of unkempt men and women of various species lounging about. Humans were a minority in this group.

Many of the people wore furs, and painted themselves in blood. Some even wore the green chitin plates of the Yozusks.

Varrus idly recognized some bastardized Sith hieroglyphics painted on both their shell armor, and flesh.

Despite their unclean appearances, roughly half their number were armed with blasters. A few of them even had some heavy weapons that could damage a tank, or aircraft.

When he passed the cultists by, they would stop whatever they were doing, and go full on worship mode, bowing on the floor like an ancient Hebrew to his Egyptian master.

Their fanaticism was concerning, especially given how there were easily a few hundred of these lunatics within walking distance of his home.

Varrus enjoyed respect, and wouldn't mind fostering loyalty in some subordinates one day. But blind worship from a cult he had the barest relation to didn't sit right with him.

"Leader! Leader, look, I have brought a Sith!"

"How many times have I told you disciple, we are Unchained! We are all Sith-oh! A true Sith! A Pureblood has graced us with his presence! You honor us my Lord! We had hoped this day would come! This one is known as Traga un-Vhol, your humble servant."

The leader, Traga, was a middle aged, bald, gray skinned human. He looked at Varrus searchingly, as if he was waiting for some prophetic response.

"Ahem. Yes, the true Sith have seen your worth. I have come here to be the arbiter of your trials." Varrus spat out some bs.

"Thank you my Lord, I always knew this day would come! Ever since those fools fled in rebellion, only us loyal to the cause understood that there was no escape! I am ready to be inducted into the Order of the Sith, we are ready! We are truly loyal my Lord, we follow the code!"

Traga led an impromptu chant of the Sith code, and was soon joined by more than 300 people.

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

Through passion, I gain strength.

Through strength, I gain power.

Through power, I gain victory.

Through victory, my chains are broken.

The Force shall free me."

They crowded around Varrus, forming a tight circle. The light of zealotry flashed in their eyes.

Interestingly, Varrus felt a tug in the Force from this group action. It was subtle, and barely noticeable, but it spoke of this groups unwavering resolve.

Withholding a smirk, Varrus knew that he had found the perfect tool to deal with the rebelling slaves.

"Your dedication has moved me. I have felt an echo within the Force. This solemn vow of yours is the first step on the path. But you are not Sith. Not yet at least." Varrus addressed the crowd.

The people muttered, and angrily jostled forward at Varrus's words.

"Settle down, I am sure the Lord has something he wishes to say. Please, direct us, how may we cast aside these chains?!" Traga pleaded.

"Simple. You must wash your past away. Take me to the rebel camp. Today, you shall all be reborn as Sith." Varrus injected a minute amount of the Force into his speech to secure their loyalty.

"Unchained, move out! Today we feast!" Traga shouted.

"Blood! Blood! Blood!" The escaped slaves chanted.

Varrus felt some sweat drip down the back of his neck. No one could be this stupid. Right?

"Uhh master Zenna, don't look now, but some creeps are coming up behind us."

"I see them Vette, allow me to do the talking."

"You sure, because the last five times you did the talking, we almost became bantha fodder."

"Enough lip slave." Zenna brandished the control switch to the shock collar mounted on Vette's neck, and put the Twi'lek in her place.

Leading from the front of the savages, a Pureblood Sith pulled away from the group, and approached her.

His armor was filthy, and stained in mud and dried gore. She wouldn't have picked him out from the mob if not for his bright red face.

In her estimation, she could dispatch the leader of this rabble in an instant, then cut down the worms as they fled in terror.

"If it isn't the newest apprentice of Darth Baras. You wouldn't be out here to spread Lord Drowl's poison, would you?"

"So what if I am?" Zenna replied cordially.

Her upbringing had instilled within her a need to act civil, but that did not mean she didn't want to scrub that smug, knowing smirk off his face with six feet of hot plasma.

"Admirable control of your rage, but you are quite transparent. I can sense your intent to violently murder me. Barrus must love such a blunt, and easily manipulated tool."

"If you don't get to the point soon, I'll introduce your backside to the meaning of the word blunt." Zenna seethed. Who did this undignified trash think he was talking too?!

'Wait, did he say sense?' Zenna reassessed the male Sith with renewed vigilance. Perhaps he wasn't the simple fool she had first cast him as.

She couldn't sense the Force in him. Either he was bluffing, or truly had the means to back it up. Curiosity piqued, Zenna decided she would get to the bottom of this.

"I'd do it if I were you, she once sodomized this Gamorrean with a 12ft pole! I've never heard one of them squeal like that before!" Vette roughly shoved her fist up in a lewd gesture.

"While I don't share such a fetish, I understand many women like watching that kind of thing. I apologize for my insincere attitude, I had no clue I was speaking with Darth Analover! My apologies, my Lady!"

"Huh, now that you point it out, she does seem to like anal! Has a real anal personality too! Can't take a joke, can't do the laundry, couldn't cook if her life depended on it, couldn't-"

"Vette." Zenna calmly said.

She pulled out both her lightsabers. One purple, and one red snap hissed. They hummed in the air, promising violence.

"Eep! I'm not talking! Nope~" Vette jumped back a foot before opening her mouth once more "Don't analyze me!...Unless you want to that is! Although the way you squirm when you used that metal pole on the Gamorrean, I thought that you were the one who wanted to be ana-" Vette stuck a finger on her cheek in thought.

"You are testing my patience." Zenna said, anger coloring her voice.

She was one millisecond away from lunging at this insufferable man, and punishing that cheeky Twi'lek.

Dark Side energies pulsed, and pulled around her. She pressed that energy upon the man, to let him know her dissatisfaction. That one more glib statement would spell doom.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were starting, I thought we were having a conversation." The Sith drew his white tooth sword.

Electricity coursed along the blade, confirming her suspicions.

Then she felt it. His power rebuffed hers. Like any Force user, his body was enveloped by an invisible bubble that protected him from the Force attacks of others, unlike the mundanes that made up 99% of the Galaxy.

She smirked, he wasn't anything close to her level, but he was above the common riff-raff, Zenna would give him that.

"Are you just going to stand there giving each other moon-eyes all day? Fight or kriff each other already!" Vette complained in a high pitch voice.

"Hahaha, an excellent choice in servant's! I like this one." The man laughed.

"Coming from a Sith wielding an archaic, backwards weapon, one leading a band of smelly homeless, you dare have the face to judge my subordinate?" Zenna rolled her eyes in ridicule.

"Awe, she does care!"

Zenna's cheeks twitched. The combined smirk of the Sith, and Vette's bubbly attitude made her want to kill something.

"Enough Nimodianing around. I propose a wager. Let us see who can kill more of the rebel scum than the other. There is an application available for the communicator that tracks kills, aren't you interested?"

Zenna was very interested in such an application, but she wouldn't show such a pathetic expression to this filth.

"And why would I do that? I would gain much more satisfaction killing you now." Zenna brandished her lightsabers.

"The victor of this little competition would be owed one favor. I may not be as impressive as you, for now, but I graduated from Dromund Kaas Academy yesterday. This antique was aquired by me today when I slew a Sith Abomination in one on one combat! Not only that, but I was directly recruited by a Dark Councilor! I am sworn to Darth Vowrawn's service. My star is still in its ascendancy, as is yours. A favor from me or you is not worthless."

Zenna scoffed at the notion that she would ever lose, and maintained her silence.

Thinking about the pros and cons, Zenna weighed her options.

On one hand, murdering this uncouth, unsavory prick would satisfy her raging heart.

On the other hand, a favor from a rising power, one unknown to her master could prove useful down the line.

She hated to admit it, but the notion of using this smooth talking slime to further her agenda was starting to grow on her, like a radioactive fungus.

"It is the way of the Sith to demonstrate their capabilities over their lessers. Marka Ragnos, Exar Kun, Tulak Hord, Naga Sadow. Legendary Sith, every one of them. Each convinced the people to follow them through stupendous feats of might. Do not tell me you are afraid to follow in their footsteps?" He taunted.

Zenna flinched at that, and clenched the lightsaber she had claimed from Naga Sadow's tomb.

Did he know?

Whispers of the Dark Side were telling her to kill.

But he had cast out an interesting proposition. To date, everyone she encountered wanted to kill her. She would revel the look of shock on his face when she turned the tables on him.

"Your manipulations are as clumsy as you are stupid. But let it never be said that I, Zenna Phaige, am a coward! I accept your wager." Zenna sheathed her lightsabers, and angrily strode past him for the slave camp.

"Charmed, the name's Varrus Krawl. I look forward to working with the Empire's future Wrath."

Zenna didn't bother halting in her tracks. The imbecile was mad! Lord Scourge had been the Wrath for the last 300 years.

Her the next Wrath?! The fool must be smoking deathsticks.

"M-master, wait for meeee!"

Zenna stomped away at a faster pace, her scowl growing to an unimaginable magnitude.

Idiots! She was surrounded by idiots!