Darth Cahdek

Chapter 1

Tawntoom, Roon - capital of the Brotherhood of Darkness
995 years after the resurgence of the Sith

On the dark side of the tidal locked planet Roon, Cahdek knelt, hunched over in the mud without even a shirt on his back - knees squelching, hands filthy, eyes glazing, and mind tense. He had himself to blame for his situation, he knew, but that didn't stop the frustrated fury within him threatening to explode. He also knew, however, that that was exactly the reason he was stuck collecting sparkly grit in the first place. On his first day here, ever since he realised that that human coward had failed to fulfil his promise, he had sulked, fought, and whinged, and sometimes he even managed to cause proper trouble. That meant that they couldn't let him get strong. They couldn't risk him being able to take on a guard. So they kept him away from gruelling physical labour in the mines, and laughed at him as he scrambled in the mud for the gems the water jets separated from the rocks at the top of the slope. After three years, he had learnt not to whinge, but the anger was still there, and sometimes it demanded release. And so he stayed in the mud, and got weaker.
He knew he looked pathetic. His total lack of muscle was enough to do that. But there was something else too, something that most of his overseers most likely hadn't even noticed - it was certainly the one thing they hadn't bullied him for. It was ironic then, that the lack of his adult tattoos was the thing that bothered Cahdek most. He had failed to prove himself, and so at fifteen years old, he had the markings of one three years younger.

He paused his work for a moment as he noticed something strange out of the corner of his eye through the inky gloom: a man was speaking with the overseer. This man was a human, and he was old, and frail, wearing expensive looking black robes patterned with dark red decoration, or maybe they were symbols. The dark robes, coupled with his deathly pale face and hair it made him look like some monster out of a story. Was he a Sith? Maybe. Whatever he was it seemed undoubtedly wrong that he should be here. Such men were not suited for standing in mud, or even under the sun judging by his skin tone. But here he was, and Cahdek indulged himself in wondering why for a second, before the guard behind him shoved an encouraging stick into the small of his back.

Hours later, his shift finally ended. It had got colder since he'd started, which had stiffened his already numb joints. Cahdek picked up his pot and staggered off of his knees, taking a while to get used to using his feet once more. He was shoved in line by a sneering guard, and the group began to march (as well as they could) to the compound. Once they entered the compound, a uniform squad of grey rectangular buildings, their line came adjacent to the underground miners, who glared at them enviously. They were no longer surprised to see Cahdek give them the same look back, desperate to do something challenging, and simply rolled their eyes or pityingly looked away, which just made Cahdek all the more enraged.
Cahdek looked to his right, away from the other miners, and looked through the energy fence to the outside world. Out there the land stretched out for miles - miles and miles of tantalising freedom, placed cruelly before their eyes.
Wait.
Was that a ship? Why the hell would someone leave a ship sitting in a field outside a labour camp? And why would they leave it open with only a single guard? Cahdek didn't stop to consider the answers. He saw freedom, and he snatched at it.

Suddenly, he pushed past the other miners, taking everyone by surprise. Aided by the eternal night of Roon's dark side, by the time the guards realised what had happened, he had already wriggled to the top of the nearest single-story building. Before they could raise their weapons, he had leapt off of the building and over the energy fence. Now they could only stare in awe at the impossible leap as their prisoner landed on the other side, now protected by the very barrier meant to stop him from escaping.
Cahdek felt a strange feeling within him. All the anger, all the hate, all the frustration: it was free from his head now, and he controlled it. As he flew through the air that anger drove him, and it propelled him off the ground in a roll as he rushed the ship's guard. Cahdek punched the guard's neck, but not before he managed to scream out for help. Within seconds, four camp guards had their blasters trained on him, and Cahdek could see the four red dots on his chest.
"Step away from the ship!" One of them yelled.
It seemed like the only thing he could do - that or die. He could try to fight them if he had a blaster, or even if he could pick up the other guard's one. But he didn't have one, and he didn't have time to pick up the guard's one. Cahdek's mind clouded with fury at his situation. He had been so close! If only he could just have one chance to fight something! Suddenly he saw it. Not with his eyes, he couldn't explain how, but he could see whether the fallen blaster was.
"Step away from the ship!"
Now.
Cahdek dropped and raised the blaster suddenly in his hand. He shot down two guards almost before seeing them, and then he dove into the ship.

He couldn't fly away just yet, he needed to make sure the last two guards wouldn't shoot down his ship. They came in close behind him, and he tried to shoot, but he panicked and missed completely. He was tired now, and his anger had given way to exhilaration and overconfidence. He tried a punch, but his target caught it, and used the momentum to slam him onto the cold metal ramp. Now the anger roared a triumphant return, and he lashed out with his legs, knocking one to the ground with him. Then he rolled to avoid the shot from the other and kicked up at them too. Now, grabbing his blaster, he hopped up off the ground, and sneered in elation as he pointed the blaster at them, and blew their brains out. He grinned at his victory, and started towards the cockpit.
Then pain. Incredible pain! Nightmarish pain that coursed through his every nerve until he screamed like a beast until he choked on empty lungs. Crying and spasming as he struggled to breathe, he writhed in red lightning, looking up through a haze of tears to see the man in the black robes. Seeing him up close made him all the more terrifying. His face was gaunt, and frail, yet he had an inexplicable strength to his features, like his bones empowered him more than any muscles could. His hair was near translucent - what little was left - and it was scraped across his skull like a thin layer of fur. He was a ghost of a man, probably in a more literal sense than Cahdek could or wanted to imagine, but it was his voice that truly scared him. His voice was a whine. High pitched; strained, but with a grating, sharp, jagged, knifing steel to it that seemed to cut his face open, and the breathy fade of his sentences evoked the blood that those words spilt.
"Well done, Cahdek Tinren; you passed." He said, sneering gleefully. And yet he somehow also made Cahdek feel pride along with the pain. "Your anger made you strong. Now I reward you with the pain you need to make your anger stronger! You impressed me greatly today." He increased the pain. "No training at all, as of yet. But you still managed to extinguish five men's lives? Oh, you must be so proud." Then he stopped, and Cahdek grinned in delirious ecstasy at the delightful lack of pain.
"You'll be a fine asset for the Brotherhood one day. But for that you'll need power, fuelled by your hatred, fuelled by anger. You know these already. Good. Very good. But you will require more."
And then the red pain continued.
"Remember this gift given to you by Kopis Virdinius, and be grateful for the power it brings you."