[Open] Even a Pebble Creates Darkness

[Kazuya]

(( Open to whoever would like to join, as my character does not have a master yet, but would be open to training with others outside of a class setting.))

The young Elomin male who had recently joined the sith as an acolyte sat cross-legged, meditating, in the center of one of the many training rooms available to the those who wished to learn more about the dark side of the force in the academy. His head was lowered, his eyes closed as he meditated, thinking about the many abilities that he had heard about and read about and trying to choose one that he would want to practice. Throughout his years of being taught the force he had independently read about many abilities that were available to those with force sensitivity, particularly those abilities related to the dark side. It was true that he did blame his previous teachers for not being able to train him in many of the abilities he wanted to learn, but now that he had made it to Korriban to be a Sith acolyte and major he would train his hardest to advance himself through the ranks.

What would he start with? His mind drifted through the many abilities that he could start training with, but he ended up settling on one of the simpler abilities that he had already gained experience from in his past. The simple ability to move objects. It had become a lazy ability, one that he could train whilst thinking about other things. It was a good one to start with while he thought of something else to work with.

Opening his dark eyes he plucked a small pebble from the floor, staring at it with a dark intensity that one who had given wholly into the darkness that resided in him could have. The pebble itself was not something interesting. Small as it was, if used in battle it wouldn’t do much damage, but if used the right way… in long range battle, it could be used quite efficiently. Not that he had ever tried using it to pierce an enemy’s flesh. He preferred his throwing daggers, or a lightsaber for that sort of thing. Lightly he tossed the pebble up in the air and watched it spin a few turns in the air above his left hand before closing his eyes to thing again.

Korriban honestly reminded him a lot of his home world Elom. Of course, he hadn’t been to the plane of his origins in many years, but the barren world was etched in his mind, and was ever more refreshed by being on the red world that he resided on now. However, the distinction of Korriban was that it was the training hub of the Sith, while Elom had just been the barren world of a close minded people. If he had to choose between them, Korriban was the place to be. After all, it held one of the few places where the Sith could train and not be pestered by the unchangeable Jedi.

With his eyes closed Melhinerak could concentrate on listening to the on goings in the academy. Though he was in his own room, in others he could hear the hum of lightsabers clashing with one another, or just mild chatter, probably between a master and the acolyte that had been taken under his or her wing. In some ways, hearing the motions that others were going through to train themselves was something that fueled his fire all the more. Half of him wanted a master again, someone powerful who he could train under, but half of him was glad he didn’t. It would give him the freedom to study wanted; something that had led him to be at odds with the previous master he had before he had arrived on Korriban.

In his anger he stopped the spinning of the pebble, letting it hover above the palm of his sharp nailed hand before shooting it in the general direction of the door hearing a pleasing crack as it met with the wall, half shattering itself, while the rest of it lodged in the wall. Opening his eyes, Melhinerak surveyed the damage the pebble had done with a sneer from his position. It wasn’t a very big thing, but he could see where it had hit and tendrils of cracks surrounded it, the walls protest against being hit with such force. "…How… pleasant.” He hissed, placing his hands together, the tips of the nails on each of his fingers meeting with their individual counterparts.

 

[QuarkzMan]

Deimos' roaming had brought him once more to the training rooms. It seemed as though the Zabrak simply gravitated to them by some greater force, the way that he kept ending up here. Perhaps the sound of combat was one of the few things on this alien world that he could connect with. Or perhaps he was drawn here due to an innate desire to learn something, anything about how to become a Sith. Whatever the reason, he found himself spying on the training of others.

It amazed him how many of the students within the training chambers were simply too self absorbed to notice his comings and goings. Deimos had spend a good hour watching a variety of Sith as they trained, and none of them even glanced away from their practice. Although it wasn't nearly as good as receiving actual training, the Zabrak was able to glean some of the Siths' practices from watching them.

In particular he was dazzled by those who were utilizing lightsabers. The foreign weapons entranced him with their dazzling lights and reverberations. A part of him itched to possess the raw destructive capabilities that came with one of those mystical beams of energy. All in good time... He thought to himself as he moved on to another chamber.

The next room he peaked in on seemed vastly uninteresting at first. A lone Sith sat within, concentrating on a minute rock. Just as Deimos was ready to move on, he arched an eyebrow as it was flung across the room, apparently by its own volition. A low whistle escaped from between the red-skinned Sith's teeth as he approached.

"That's deceptively destructive." He noted mildly as he intruded on the other's training quarters. "To think that you could kill a man with a pebble..." Deimos chuckled softly as he eyed the damage the rock had inflicted.

 

[Kazuya]

Melhinerak intertwined his fingers as he heard the low whistle from someone who had observed what the pebble had done to the wall. It was interesting that a sith would be so in awe of such an obvious thing to do with the powers that the dark side of the force gave to it’s users. Standing, Melhinerak scooped some pebbles into his hand and allowed them to move above his hand much like the previous pebble had hovered. Of course, he had no intention to send them out in any direction. It was just an exorcise. He had come here to train, and even if he was interrupted he would continue, even if it were such a small movement.

Turning to look at the newcomer who had entered the training room he pulling the hood off of his head so that the intruder could see him as much as increasing his own ability to see the Zabrak male. Intensely, he looked over the boy, evaluating him as he had the others he had met so far in the academy. He couldn’t sense much of the force in him, so he was either completely new to the ways of the force, or someone who had a great ability to hide his strengths. Based on the way he was looking at the damage the pebble had done he decided on the latter.

The appearance of him was what intrigued Melhinerak the most. He noted that the male’s appearance was close to his own, but different also in many ways. Immediately that had him thinking of the race that many believed the Elomin to have originated from, the Zabrak. It was a change of pace… it had been a while since he had seen a species at least in relation to his.

“It is indeed.” Melhinerak’s lips turned up into a smirk as he spoke, enjoying the others surprise. "If I'm correct in what I sense, you're new to using the force?" he asked, not at all meaning his question to be rude, though there was a blunt note in his voice. He too was new to the sith, but he had been trained in the some of the ways of the force beforehand. Melhinerak found it a little strange that some one that looked only a little younger than himself would just be beginning training.

 

[QuarkzMan]

Bright yellow eyes examined the Sith as he lowered his hood. Deimos took careful note of the strange Sith's features. Although he resembled a Zabrak, there were clear differences. Deimos made a mental note to research what race the man was, if he time to do so.

"You're quite right," He replied to the stranger's question. "Despite being offered a spot among the Sith ranks, it seems as though I have been passed up for instruction in the ways of the Force." The irritation in his voice was plain and easy to pick out. A hint of a snarl caused the Zabrak's red lips to warp for a fraction of a moment before he shrugged.

"But I suppose that it will all come in good time. After all, it wasn't as if I expected our great Sith masters to be tripping over one another for the chance to educate little ol' me." Deimos walked a single lap around the training room as he spoke, every one of his steps deliberate. If he hadn't been speaking he would most likely resemble a caged animal pacing around its enclosure. As he reached the doorway once more he stopped and turned to face the not-Zabrak standing before him.

"So, other than tossing stones around with your mind, what does one do for entertainment around here?"

 

[Kazuya]

A curt nod was all that he gave when he was told that he had been correct about him. There was a lot of anger held in the man before him. Enough to rival his own, and he found pleasure in knowing it. This angry Zabrak might become someone he could indeed work with.

“I wouldn’t expect one soon, my friend.” Melhinerak watched as the intruder paced around the room. The Zabrak seemed agitated at the fact that he didn’t have a master yet; just as he felt about not having a proper mentor to teach him in the ways of the dark side. It was an odd change after so many years of being mentored by others to have to teach yourself. Only, Melhinerak had become more… mild mannered about that. Being taught by Darth Umbra, and having the possibilities of having multiple teachers was something that he was not willing to pass up. Korriban was an excellent place.

“You do not need a master to learn the dark side in this place, as I have been learning….” Melhinerak spoke, hoping that he might just be able to give him that piece of advice, as had been the feeling that he had gotten from Darth Umbra in the classroom. “There are classes you can take from masters, and possibly lords who wish to teach our generation. And of course, you can train on your own and join others in these training rooms.”

The soft hiss of a laugh escaped Melhinerak’s mouth, “Entertainment…” an amused look grew on his face and he shook his head. There wasn’t much room for entertainment in the life of a sith, particularly with the war that was currently taking place against the Alliance and their allies. It was true that they were doing well, but even so, that didn’t mean that the acolytes could slack off. If this man was looking for entertainment then he hadn’t come to the right faction. The pebbles in his spun a little agitatedly, and he flicked them to the floor with a swift movement of his hand.

“There is plenty to do, but if you’re looking for entertainment you should go elsewhere. Maybe a off-world cantina would suit your interests better.” Melhinerak sneered, looking calculatingly at the Zabrak. How long had it been since the Elomin had actually had fun? He had forgotten. Training was something that wasn’t entertaining, only meant to prove and better yourself. At least, that was how he looked at it. Then again, he did take entertainment from the harm that others came to with his abilities. Perhaps that was what he had meant. “But if by entertainment you meant training…. If you wish to follow the dark side, there are plenty of training methods you could pursue as a Sith. I could help you in a few things. I may not be knowledgeable in many aspects of the dark side, but I have been trained in the force since I was a child.”

Melhinerak paused for a moment, allowing time for the Zabrak to answer, and his hand moved his cloak so that his hand could rest on his old master’s lightsaber that he had acquired when he had killed him. It had a comforting feel to it, but he did wish to gain his own. Every time he used the two lightsabers he had in his possession he felt a little like he was defiling his own abilities. The crystals of the sabers did not completely hum with his dark connection to the force.

“Do you have a lightsaber?” Melhinerak inquired. Now that he was no longer using the force to levitate rocks, maybe the Zabrak would give him a lightsaber duel… or something of that manor.

 

[QuarkzMan]

An irritated hiss emanated from between scarlet lips at the confirmation that he wouldn't likely be acquiring a master any time in the near future. Here he was, dragged nearly halfway across the Galaxy, torn from his normal life to pursue that of a greater cause, and those who displaced him wouldn't even have the common decency to point him in the right direction? Then again, the Sith weren't known throughout the Galaxy for their decency.

Furious eyes shot a piercing glare at the Elomin when it was suggested that he seek out a cantina. It was obvious that this stranger did not share the same interests that Deimos did. The Zabrak's taste in entertainment often involved much more violence than could be sought out in a simple cantina. The life of a slaver had warped his interests past what a normal person would consider healthy.

"While training is a prosperous way to pass the time, it wasn't exactly what I had in mind." In a blur of red and silver Deimos produced a blade from some depths of his clothing. "The thrill of testing one's skill against another, locked in the deadliest dance. That is what I call entertaining." As if to emphasize his point the Zabrak flung the dagger past the other Sith's head, embedding it into the ground behind him.

Deimos' eyes flicked from the other's lightsaber and back to the blade stuck deep into the floor. "No, I don't have the pleasure of possessing a weapon nearly as fancy as that." He suddenly regretted having left his vibroblade back in his spartan quarters. Any chance to spill some blood was one that he quickly took.

"How is it that one goes about getting such a thing, anyways?" He asked, attempting and failing to mask his eagerness with disinterest. The amount of destruction one could produce with such a device sent a thrill throughout his whole body as his blood lust was ignited.

 

[Kazuya]

The reaction that he saw in the man’s eyes was enough to assure Melhinerak of his intentions in the sith. Entertainment wasn’t a word that he had used in his vocabulary in a long time, but he supposed though that it was his bloodlust that entertained him the most. His lust for the violence that had taken hold of his life since he had abandoned the Jedi had given him true enjoyment. This would be an interesting training session, even if the man did not have much experience in using the force to his benefit.

A wide grin warped Melhinerak’s face as the dagger sped past him, and a slightly insane laughter escaped him, not even attempting to dodge the dagger or use the force to prevent it from touching him. This was absolutely brilliant. Throwing daggers were an old friend of his, and that this Zabrak used them made him quite giddy with bloodlust. “Now, that is my sort of entertainment, Zabrak. You are welcome to pit your skills against me.”

“Well… I got mine in an unorthodox manor.” Melhinerak fingered the lightsaber that his master had once owned with a fondness for the memory of killing him, and then glanced at the slightly smaller one that also had it's place on his belt. Eyes burning into the man before him he was almost tempted to tell him how he had gotten his lightsabers, but his past was something that he rarely spoke about to anyone. The only one he had told had been his master before he had killed him. He hesitated a moment before speaking. “However, the general way is to receive one from your master, or your master will teach you how to make one.” Bluntly Melhinerak finished his explanation, hoping that the man wouldn’t be curious, mostly for his own good.

“ Before we dance, as you called it… what is your name?” The Elomin asked, and offered up his name as he dropped the cloak revealing not only the two sabers that hung on his belt and the array of daggers that still remained on his person at all times. Of course, he still had some hidden away, he never gave away all his weapons to an enemy. It was not in his nature as a secretive man. Removing the cloak was common. It was easier for most to move without the hindrance of the extra fabric and Melhinerak found it no different. “My name is Melhinerak.”

 

[QuarkzMan]

Deimos listened silently as the other Sith discussed lightsabers. He was intrigued by the idea of getting hold of them in unorthodox fashions. It seemed like that would be his best option, seeing as acquiring a master appeared to be a much slower way of going. Perhaps he could kill a fellow Acolyte. As long as he did it discreetly enough, he was sure that no trouble would come from it. As the thought made its way through the Zabrak's head his need for battle climbed to an unbearable level.

A feral grin split his lips as he watched his opponent prepare himself for combat. Deimos mimicked the Elomin's motions, tossing his jacket to the side and caressing the multitude of knives that lay exposed along his belt. He could feel his senses sharpen and focus in on the object of his blood lust, everything else fading into the background. Beneath his scarlet chest the Zabrak could feel his heart rate pick up. This was what he had been born for.

"Deimos," He replied, exploding into motion nearly before the single word had even left his lips. The new Sith launched himself towards his adversary, flinging a dagger at him with his right hand as his left fist jabbed for Melhinerak's belly. The fight had started, and nothing else in the Galaxy mattered in the slightest to Deimos. He had found where he belonged on this alien world, and it was locked in mortal combat.

 

[Kazuya]

“Pleasure.” Melhinerak ground out, drawing his long dagger as the battle between them started. It was clear that all pleasantries were gone between them, and Melhinerak was grateful for that. He wasn’t one for talking, and for a moment there he had thought that the Zabrak would want him to teach him some things about the force. Of course, he wouldn’t have objected to teaching someone who had less knowledge than he in the force, but he preferred not to.

Rather than matching the eagerness of Deimos by immediately attacking, Melhinerak watched patiently, a fire in his eyes, as Deimos launched towards him and threw a dagger. Having such a foreword was of fighting would be a disadvantage to the man in the end. Especially against someone who has such a habit of moving while he fought. To Melhinerak, it would be disgraceful to loose against Deimos, particularly when he had no understanding of the force.

There was a chink of metal on metal as Melhinerak blocked the first dagger with his dagger and sheathed it in one swift movement while he bent backwards as the dagger that Deimos held neared his stomach. It was time to use his flexibility, doing a backflip he started a well-aimed kick at his opponent’s chin. He didn’t stop there though. Using the momentum that he had gained from the first back flip he added two more onto it, attempting to meld the force into his jumping points so that he would ventured farther away from Deimos.

Once stopped, Melhinerak took the throwing stance that he had become so attached to in his years of fighting as an assassin and drew out a few of his throwing daggers. Indeed, he loved close combat, but with daggers he preferred long-range fighting, especially against someone who had hardly any knowledge about the force. He wondered how the man would react if he used the force to levitate his dagger. He probably would think it unfair. But, what was the point of being in a battle against another sith if fairness was a concern.

Cruelly, he gauged his opponent again, and threw two daggers him, one at the chest, and one at the leg while he lifted another two with the force letting them hover next to his hands. “Come on… give me a challenge. Try using the force!” Melhinerak goaded the Zabrak.

 

[QuarkzMan]

A rush of pleasure flowed through the Zabrak as the fight began. He had feared that the fight would be over too quickly, but the response his opponent offered proved him wrong. Deimos was just able to twist out of the way of the other Acolyte's kick, feeling the air rush past his face in the wake of the other's boot. He arched a tattooed brow at the acrobatics of his opponent. "Fancy..." He muttered under his breath.

Yellow eyes caught the details of Melhinerak's stance, and Deimos prepared himself for the projectiles that were coming his way. It seemed as though the two Acolytes possessed similar techniques, although there were slight differences. Deimos preferred to be up close and personal, using thrown weapons as distractions. The Elomin seemed to rely more heavily on projectiles in order to do damage.

Deimos' analysis of his opponent was interrupted as the first dagger neared. Adrenaline coursed through the Zabrak, increasing his reaction speed. Time almost seemed to slow for him as he backhanded the blade away to clatter uselessly on the floor. The second attack was a bit more successful, grazing across his leg and slicing a shallow cut in Deimos' calf before he could get out of the way completely.

Laughter echoed against the walls as the newer Acolyte threw back his head and reveled in the battle. "First blood! Congratulations." Deimos licked his lips as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, enjoying the sensation of the fight or flight response his body had developed over the course of evolution.

"The Force, eh? Well, I don't think I can do anything nearly as fancy as that trick there, if that's what you're expecting." He flashed another grin. There was one trick that he had been able to reproduce since his encounter with the Imperial soldiers, one that had saved his life a couple of times on their ship. Deimos took a deep breath, drawing on his pain and his body's biological fear of damage. He moved towards Melhinerak once more.

This time the Zabrak's movements were almost too fast for the eye to catch, his muscles augmented by the Darkside. While normally faster than the average being, the Force allowed Deimos to push the limits of what was often considered possible. His uninjured right leg snapped forward, aimed for the Elomin's left knee. At the same time Deimos attempted to slash across his opponent's chest with the knife that was still in his left hand.

 

[Kazuya]

Melhinerak raised a brow was he watched the Zabrak, his eyes growing cold at the sight of the blood that he had managed to draw. The reaction that he received from him wasn’t what he had been expecting. Deimos seemed pleased to have been wounded, rather than angry as he would have been. Slightly, Melhinerak thought that this one’s motivation for wanting to become a sith was merely bloodlust. He had met one who was eager to just kill others already, and he wasn’t sure how thought of people like that yet. He kind of thought them foolish, just pure want to kill wouldn’t make a good sith. Did he even know the code of the sith?

That a few backflips made more powerful with the force was fancy floored Melhinerak. For the most part that was just his body doing what it was good at; being flexible. Then again, this… aolyte had no background in the force. His lips twitched with some displeasure, knowing that he could easily kill him, yet holding back was bothersome.

Deimos was too quick to think that things were special when they weren't really. That had been one of his most simple movements with daggers; throw one high, and one low. Personally, he was surprised that Deimos hadn’t managed to dodge both. Pity… This new acolyte was daring, as far as he could tell he was foolish as well fighting against someone who had moderate experience in the force while he had none, but for some reason he was finding that he liked the boy more than any of the fellow acolytes that he had met thus far. However, if he didn’t change something he Melhinerak would most certainly kill him. Weakness, even in fellow acolytes wasn’t something he was going to tolerate.

If he wanted to end the battle quickly he could make more of his daggers spin out of their sheaths and point them at Deimos’s neck. If he hadn’t had a good outlook on hoping the Zabrak would surprise him, he would have done so before beginning a duel with him. Then, there were the movements that were obviously modified by the force in Deimos’s body. This would indeed be something that would make the battle a lot more interesting. The sneer on his face turned into a wide smirk. This was a change that he had been wanting. This would add more of a challenge…

“ Excellent! You’re using the force without even realizing it, Zabrak!” Melhinerak crowed as Deimos charged towards him. Bending backwards, drawing out his long dagger whilst he did so, Melhinerak dodged the attack aimed at his chest, but remained and allowed Deimos’s kick to meet his knee so that he could know the power that he held. It hurt more than he had thought it was, and his leg protested against the pain buckling a little bit. However, that didn’t stop him. Bringing his dagger back up as he straightened again, he took his own turn slashing at the much taller man’s chest. “But will it be enough of a challenge?” he hissed, red eyes flashing. Once again considering ending the fight with the force. Perhaps this time would be better severed teaching the Zabrak some pointers.

 

[QuarkzMan]

While it was true that Deimos hadn't consciously utilized the Force, he gave his unexpected increase in speed no mind. There wasn't time to think now, that was for later. Now was the time to be in the moment, the time to focus solely on combat. Once the fight was over Deimos would analyze the battle and pick apart the details. That was his method, the one that had served him so well over the years.

It was with a sense of pleasure that the Zabrak felt his kick connect with its intended target. A part of him had begun to worry that none of his blows would land, that the Elomin would be fast enough to dodge out of the way of them. It would have proven to be a very dull fight indeed if that had been the case.

His senses and reactions still heightened, Deimos turned his attention to the dagger aiming for his torso. It was an odd sensation, almost as if the danger that the possessed drew his attention to it, demanding that he do something. A flash of a plan erupted through his mind unbidden, the result of his connection with the Force. If it worked, it would change the course of battle greatly.

A scarlet hand grasped the brown hand wielding the offensive weapon. Deimos grinned at the result of his increased speed. His greater strength had stopped the blade just centimeters from his skin. In another blinding flash the Zabrak's free hand snatched at Melhinerak's belt, aiming for the longer of the two lightsabers that resided there. If everything in his plan worked out, this duel would be one with more suiting weapons for Sith.

 

[Kazuya]

The pleasure the Elomin had, had for the fight against the man before him disappeared as fast as it had come on. Instead a powerful rage filled him when Deimos’ hand went towards the lightsaber that he most prized as a trophy. This acolyte was no longer an ally that he would train with, but an enemy who would be likely to stab him in the back. It was true, that was the basis of a Sith to betray others to make yourself stronger, but here, the Zabrak had made a mistake. Melhinerak was not weak.

It was true, Melhinerak was still learning the ways of the darkside, but a man who had barely any experience was going to take his lightsaber? He had been training with them since he was a child. How dare he even attempt that? As an Elomin his pride was something that refused to be wounded, and Deimos had attempted to take his most prized trophy. His memory that he had defeated the master that had held him back from coming to Korriban sooner. That didn’t bode well for Deimos.

He was tempted to push Deimos backwards, but he still had a hard grip on his dagger hand. Before Deimos could get his hands on his hands on his lightsaber, Melhinerak pulled it to his free hand with the force. Then he pointed the daggers that he had been levitating with the force at the Zabrak’s neck like he had been debating doing. One wrong move and he would send them into the man’s flesh. “Thievery against an opponent like me is not going to work out for you.” Melhinerak hissed coldly, igniting his lightsaber.

“You're foolish.” Melhinerak snarled, face a mask of anger. “Step back, Deimos.” His eyes were dangerous as he looked at the man, no longer holding any enjoyment for the lust of battle or training, just the black want to kill the man standing before him. This fight was over.

 

[QuarkzMan]

The tone of the fight changed in a fraction of a moment. One second it was an almost friendly spar between comrades; the next it was a deadly standoff. Deimos froze in place as his opponent turned truly violent, igniting his saber. A whisper of a smirk crossed scarlet lips as fiery eyes examined the blades at his throat. It seemed as though he had touched a nerve.

The Zabrak played around with the idea of pushing Melhinerak, just to see if he would follow through with it. Part of him wanted to force the Elomin's hand, to win by losing. The moment passed however, as he valued his life more than what would amount to a minor victory. "Very well. It's obvious to me when I've lost a fight, and despite what some might think, I'm not one to needlessly spill blood." He released the other Sith and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Particularly if it is mine."

Deimos slowly backed away until he reached a distance he considered safe before dropping his hands. His smirk spread further across his face as he leaned casually against a wall. He took a moment to eye the still oozing wound on his leg before turning his attention back to Melhinerak. "Speaking of fools, I can't but help notice how frakkin' easy it was to push you over the edge."

The red skinned Acolyte picked an invisible speck off his tunic and flicked it away. "I mean, I know I'm new here and all, but I was under the impression that us Sith were supposed to master our emotion, not the other way around. Or did I get confused? Please, enlighten me." A cruel grin presented itself on his face. He wanted to test the Elomin, to push more of his buttons.

 

[Kazuya]

Keeping the daggers still around the space that Deimos had vacated, Melhi waited till the newer acolyte had backed away completely to extinguish his lightsaber and snatch the daggers from the air with his other hand. Placing his daggers and lightsaber in their proper places Melhi swiveled and picked up his cloak before stiffly putting it on as the zabrak spoke to him. He was no doubt trying to goad him into being even more furious than he already was. It of course burned him, the anger in him raged cruely, not going to be put out very quickly.

It had indeed been easy to push him over the edge, but the prizes that hung at his belt were the two things that he treasured the most. He wouldn’t let just anyone take them from him, so he ignored the comment about him being quick tempered. They had both been with him for a while, and he was proud of how he collected them. Perhaps if Deimos had attempted to anger him in another way he would not been so quick to act.

That comment about their emotions earned the zabrak a hard stare. Master their emotion? That had been the reason why he had abandoned the Jedi way of life. It was true that they used their emotion, and of course there was the fact that if you used too much emotion it would hinder your power, but emotion was something that was an important part of a sith’s life; at least to him.

“You’re very wrong in that aspect of this life. It is through our passion and emotion that we gain power.” Melhi’s voice was a cruel hiss as he looked at the new acolyte. This boy clearly knew which buttons to press to make Melhi even more uncomfortable with him. “It was your intention to use the lightsaber I gained through killing my old master against me. I can tell you right now that that would not bode well with any sith.”

Melhi looked once more at his opponent then turned and walked out of the room, having lost interest in the spar. He would busy himself elsewhere... perhaps on one of his droids.

[[ Edit 1: I apologize for the delay on my reply. I assure you this won’t become a usual thing. I’ve just been really busy because of moving, etc. I’m sorry! Also, I’ve shortened Melhinerak to Melhi.))
[[ Edit 2: For the sake of tying off threads, I have edited it so this thread ended with this post.]]