The Chains that Bind you.

A man can have anything, if he is willing to sacrifice. With your birth comes a sacred vow. Not out of greatness, were you created, but out of filth. The privilege you have is dirt beneath your feet. Your rights are those you take. You own nothing, You are given nothing. In the darkness, ambition will guide you. The lives you want, are yours to take. The battles you fight, the wars you wage, all of it you will wage, alone. And when darkness finds you, you will face it alone.

Star Wars The Old Republic: The

Ballad of Darth Imperious!

The year is 3645 BBY, approximately 3645 years before The Battle of Yavin and the death of Darth Vader, on the slaving rock known as Mek-Sha, a small settlement known for its selling of slaves and other luxury items. There, a particular Sith lord, Darth Malgus makes his presence known in search of an object. But what he finds may not be the kind of weapon he had intended.

* Clank! Clank! clank! Clank!

The repeated sound of metal striking Rocks and the smell of fire, and the burning sensation of smoke filled the cavernous environment that is Mek-Sha's mining pits. There slaves are forced to work tirelessly every day.

On this particular day, young Djaeric Keto was working two times harder than usual due to an incident that happened recently. Djaeric was a slim human man, standing at around 6'3 at the age of just nineteen. But he didn't mind it. Fourteen years of slavery had been kind to him. The brutal work in the mine had blessed Djaeric with a body capable of handling it. More distinguishing though was his pitch-black hair, his glorious blue eyes, and his slave mark that was branded on the right side of his face.

His slave mark insisted of three long lines going down his right eye to his cheek.

Djaeric was busy toiling away when a small green colored rodian named Giordon, approached him from behind, smoking.

" Hey, Djaeric still got anything to say punk?" The rodian asked the male human. He walked up and leaned against the wall of rock that Djaeric was mining.

Now normally, Giordon wouldn't be so bold to step up to a man of Djaeric's size, but after the last punishment Djaeric received, Giordon's smug arrogance rose just a bit too much.

" Beat it, Giordon. Unless you want me to beat you again." Djaeric said to the man. His accent was thick and heavy. A clear sign of his imperial birth. Djaeric continued smashing away at the hard minerals on the wall, his hands blistering over from repeated use of the pickaxe he used.

Djaeric didn't have time to worry about the rodian, his work was more important.

Every day, the 'workers' had a certain quota to meet, if they wanted to eat that night. And if they didn't meet it, they would be forced to make it up the next day, and the next day, and the day after that.

And if Djaeric wanted to have food for him and his brother to eat, then he needed to make sure he met his doubled quota by the end of the day.

" Didn't you learn your lesson, last time Djaeric? Or do I need to go tell the quartermaster than one of his little 'workers' is working up another attitude."

Djaeric ignored the rodian's obvious attempts to goad him into conflict and instead continued hacking away at the minerals. Once his bucket was full of the tiny rock like crystals, Djaeric covered it and placed it to the side, where ten other large buckets full of rocks and crystals were siting.

He then placed another large bucket up against the wall and started hacking away once again. Afterall he still needed thirty more buckets and that was just for the ore and crystals. Immediately after he was done with mining, Djaeric would have to head to the fighting pins. It was his turn for gladiatorial combat.

" Maybe... Maybe I'll go see how Djaerin is doing instead, huh?"

Djaeric immediately turned towards the small rodian and gripped his pickaxe with a purpose. He bent over and glared at the small alien, staring daggers through his eyes and even through his soul.

Djaerin was Djaeric's younger brother, and unlike Djaeric, Djaerin wasn't as physically imposing. In fact, he was the opposite of Djaeric. Djaeric was strong and had a cool head of thinking but was no stranger to fights. Djaerin on the other hand was much nicer than his brother, unfortunately that meant he was often the source of trouble as others would gladly try and take whatever the young man had.

In fact, it was because of Djaerin getting beaten up by Giordon's gang that Djaeric had gotten in trouble, as he had personally assaulted the group himself. Unfortunately, Djaeric's handler, a trandoshan B'dock, saw the event transpire and had punished Djaeric, by whipping him in front of the entire slave pit.

The end resulted in Djaeric being forced to 'work overtime' and Djaerin unable to leave his cell, which is why Djaeric had to take up his work, in everything. It was almost a certain that Djaeric would die from the intense heat and harsh conditions. But Djaeric wasn't ready to just drop dead, not yet.

" Don't forget, Giordon, I'm fighting today. A lot of money is gonna be placed on me. It would be a shame if all of these people were to find out that their prized fighter suddenly lost them a lot of money. Would make you a lot of enemies, especially with the Dar'manda. Indigo's never been a man of patience." Djaeric was no fool. He knew an obvious bait when he saw one. But unlike Giordon, Djaeric wasn't easy to trick. Knowing full well, that he had to cover for his brother for the rest of the week. It also helped knowing ahead of time who was betting on him to win, and with how small Mek-Sha was, the names of the big wigs were thrown around quite often.

And amongst those big wigs, the Dar'manda were some of the deadliest. Being former Mandalorians, they were known for their brutal combat skills and ability to find out information. That meant they weren't to be trifled with and Giordon knew that.

" Ah, well. Maybe another time then, eh? I'm sure you're busy. I'll leave you to your work." Giordon told the man. He blew out his cigarette and flicked off into the mine before turning on his heel and quickly scuttling away.

" Coward."

*Clock! Clock! Clock!

There was the banging of the quartermaster's bell, alerting the handful of 'workers' under him.

A small group of workers turned their attention to the deck above them and the large trandoshan came out with a smile on his reptilian face.

" Hey, Djaeric! Let's go. It's time for the pit. Run to your cell and grab your gear!" B'dock shouted to the young man.

" What's that? I still got another hour before then!" Djaeric told the man.

" Don't care. You're taking your brothers spot remember? That means you go up sooner and gotta fight both groups. So, get your shit and let's go! Unless you want me to go grab Djaerin."

Djaeric felt bitter, but he knew better than to speak again. Instead, he simply nodded and dropped his shoulders and started loading up his gear and his buckets.

He walked the heavy buckets of rock and minerals over to the deposit station where everyone needed to drop off their buckets, and once he was done depositing, he started walking towards his cell.

The first thing he did when the cage was opened up was drop his items and immediately check on his brother.

Djaerin, was laying down on his back when Djaeric came striding in, the look of exhaustion plaguing his face.

" Hey, bro... How you feeling?" Djaeric leaned down next to Djaerin and rubbed his chest.

Djaerin, was younger than his brother by two years, being a young seventeen-year-old. He had pitch black hair like his brother, but it was much shorter. While Djaeric had shoulder length hair, Djaerin's was cut close to his head. He was smaller than his brother in stature, standing at 5'9, with blue eyes.

" I'm... okay, Djaeric. Why are you back, so soon?"

" I've got to head to fighting pit, bro. Gonna be gone for a while."

" It's because of me, isn't it? Because I'm hurt." Djaerin struggled to breath, his broken arms and legs were hard enough to live with, but his broken ribs were the worst. Simply taking a breath hurt the young boy.

Djaeric looked at Djaerin and smiled. He hated the fighting pits, but he couldn't ignore the opportunities it presented. Many influential leaders of Mek-Sha and beyond would attend from time to time, and this gave chances to impress the right crowd. And if you won, you were rewarded with food and other supplies. So, it wasn't like it was not without its rewards. But just like it offered great opportunities for the slaves. It also kept them open to be bought by the worst. It was all a matter of luck.

" Hey, don't say that. You're good kid. Sometimes too good for your own sake." Djaeric told the boy. " But." He leaned over and kissed Djaerin on his head. " That's what makes you, you. And never change that, not for anyone."

" Brother I..."

" Nah, don't worry about it, Djaerin. Just leave this to big brother, Trust me, I got us." Djaeric said to the boy. Djaeric patted Djaerin on his chest lightly, and then stood up. He grabbed his fighting gear, which just consisted of a breast plate and a pair of metal bracers and walked out of his cell, and as the electric cage closed behind him, Djaeric nodded to Djaerin. It was a nod of belief. Belief that everything was gonna be alright.

Djaeric walked over to the quartermaster's hut, where B'dock was waiting.

" Certainly, took your time today, didn't you?" B'sock muttered. His sharp reptilian teeth were blackened and the putrid scent coming from his mouth was almost nauseating.

" Let's go." Djaeric responded.

There was almost nothing he wouldn't do to get away from speaking with b'dock. The man was just simply rage inducing. But there was little he could do about it. The collar around his neck ensured that nothing he did mattered.

B'Dock leaned over and hissed in Djaeric's ear.

" Best behave yourself, boy. You been winning me some good money. So, I'll cut ya some slack, today. I covered your product bill. You win all of your fights and you ain't gotta worry about going back to mining when you done. But that's only if you win'em all. If you don't it's back to the pit with the rest of the boys." B'Dock told the man.

This caused alarms to be sent into Djaeric's mind. B'Dock never made an offer like that before. No one has.

" What's the cause? You never this nice B'Dock. Who am I supposed to be impressing?"

The trandoshan looked at Djaeric for a moment before shaking his head and deciding to just tell him.

Why not he thought. After all, it might just do some good to push him.

" There's gonna be a Sith lord coming to Mek-Sha today. A famous one too. The guy responsible for the sacking of Coruscant awhile back. Darth Malgus. Him and a few other Sith are gonna be making an appearance today at the pits. They were personally invited by the Hutts to see their slaves in action. I'm sure you can imagine why." B'Dock told the man. " If you manage to impress them big wigs enough, it might just be enough to... Let's say appropriate some favors from me, or maybe better. Hell, make me rich enough, and I might just release you and your brother, both, from my services. Sounds like a damn good deal don't it?"

Djaeric couldn't believe it. It sounded way too good to be true. But even if B'Dock was lying, the choices were too slim. Either he did his best and tried to win it all, or he would lose and possibly die.

At this time, Djaeric was undefeated in the pits. But fighting through one bracket was different than fighting through two.

In the fighting pit, each bracket consisted of sixteen fighters, who all fought in eight round tournaments. When a person won, they moved up through the brackets and fought in the next round until they were the last to win. When a person lost, they would be sent back to their cell, and whatever happened next was up to the owner. Though it wasn't hard to imagine what a fighter who couldn't win was worth.

" All right, B'Dock. Let's get this over with." Djaeric told the man. With what little choice he had, Djaeric resolved himself to fighting until he dropped, even if it meant he died.

He rubbed his eyes hard. He was exhausted and starved of food. But he couldn't let it bother him. Not now. Not when he had a potential chance for freedom.

B'Dock and Djaeric boarded a small shuttle pad, that lifted them to the arena.

Once there, B'Dock brought Djaeric down to the slave pens and placed him with the other fighters.

" Make sure you win this boy. I got big money on you. Don't let me down."

" I won't." Djaeric responded.

" Good."

B'Dock left Djaeric to prepare and quickly started trying to find his way to Hutts stalls, where the famed guests would soon arrive.

Djaeric looked around at the competition and knew that this wasn't going to be a simple fight. No, everyone gathered today were the best of the best. The only fighters to remain in favor with the hutts and other rulers of Mek-Sha.

" Gonna be Carnage." Djaeric muttered.

.......

" Welcome, welcome, lord Malgus, Darth Marr. It's a pleasure to see two of your stature join us here on Mek-Sha for our pit fight."

Darth Marr and Darth Malgus. One was a member of the Dark Council and the other was a juggernaut known all throughout the sith empire.

" Jumwa. I am not here for pathetic games. You know what we came for." Malgus told the man.

" Easy Malgus. There is plenty of time to get what we came for." Darth Marr told the man. Marr was a man of great stature, and his knowledge, strength, and passion were well known. He was the essence of what it meant to be sith.

Malgus simply grunted in response to Marr's chiding and threw his hood back on.

" Fine, you talk politics if you want. I'm going." Malgus told the man. He stormed angrily away from the two and headed straight for the fight pits.

However, as Malgus stomped towards the pits, a sudden sensation washed over him.

" Hm... Interesting." Malgus muttered under his breath, his voice was distorted by the breather on his face, but even without seeing it fully, one could tell there was a slight smile on the man's face.

...........

Djaeric sat in the caged section of the pit, wielding a metal sword and spear that he grabbed from the weapons master. He was sharpening his blades on each other when a trandoshan slave and a few other fighters approached him.

" Little Djaeric... I don't see your brother.... Where he at? Little punk kick the bucket?" The Trandoshan asked.

" Rikle. No, my brother isn't dead. I've just decided that you weaklings aren't worth his time. Figured I'd get in a little more work on your face." Djaeric told the man.

Rikle snarled at Djaeric and leaned down to flash his sharp teeth at him. However, he quickly discovered that was a mistake, when Djaeric slid the tip of his blade into his mouth.

" If you don't leave right now, I promise you'll be the first to die today." Djaeric told the man.

Rikle took a step back in fear, but quickly collected himself.

" Look around you little, punk. You surrounded. No one care if you die right here you know. Murder legal." Rikle told the man.

Djaeric cut his eyes towards the four men surrounding him.

" Your right." Djaeric kicked the bench out from behind him and knocked the two men behind him down. He quickly threw his arm forward and punched Rikle in his mouth, dropping him before throwing that same arm to the left and cutting one of the Trandoshan's across his face.

The last Trandoshan to his left, reached for his blade, but before he could pull it, Djaeric launched his sword into the man's chest.

There was a brutal rage within each of Djaeric's strikes. Little to no mercy was given with each powerful strike.

Rikle's men were all laying on the floor, either hurt or dead. But Djaeric didn't care. He was breathing heavily, letting his rage flow through him. like a raging beast

" Impressive."

Djaeric heard another voice behind him and quickly spun around with his spear and tried slamming it down on the mountain of a man that was standing there. However, he found his body was no longer able to move a muscle. It was as if a force had consumed him, tied him up, and removed all ability to function from his muscles.

Djaeric looked up and locked eyes with the big man.

He was wearing heavy armor and had a dark hood. His eyes were as red as a sun and his skin paler than a ghost. However, before another thought could be formed, Djaeric was lifted off of his feet and flung across the room like a helpless child.

His body smacked against the wall with force, and he crumpled to the ground.

This giant man approached Djaeric as he struggled to get back to his feet, and then he looked down at him. Djaeric looked up with rage in his eyes. Never before had he been embarrassed so easily. Beaten, yes. But never treated like this.

" I can sense great anger within you. A growing rage, burning and ready to be unleashed. Your passion is strong. And the power within, even stronger." The man spoke. " All your life you've been in a cage. The chains that hold you are strong. But you can be stronger. When you are ready, Break Free!"

The man turned, and as a quickly as he came, he vanished leaving Djaeric to question who he was, and what he was talking about.

This man was full of mysteries, yes. But there was one thing Djaeric was sure of.

" That was a Sith."