"Your rage will fuel you for a while, but your hunger... although it is honed, targeted towards your enemies... you will still be victim to it. It will tear you apart, it will consume you as you consume others, whether they're force sensitive or not... but if you target your enemies with it, it can be used as a weapon."
Those were the words he remembered. Now, as Prazutis' abdomen aches, though he wasn't sure how, he sat, awaiting his return to the citadel by his droid pilot.
"Admiral... Vassyl..." Prazutis contacted him on his holo-comm, the admiral soon answering and their holo-images exchanging.
"Prazutis. You look less than well... don't tell me you failed your mission." Vassyl looked annoyed, Prazutis saw.
"No, Admiral... mission accomplished... but I must make a request."
Vassyl looked at Prazutis, puzzled.
"And what might that be?" He asked.
"I need a prisoner... someone set to be executed in the near future. He won't need to be formally executed."
Vassyl rubbed his chin a moment before speaking.
"I can arrange a rebel prisoner be brought here to be executed by yourself, but whatever for?"
Prazutis grunted in pain, looking at the image of Vassyl.
"Complications... You know about my change. Well... now I must satisfy the consequences."
Admiral Vassyl was dumbfounded by what he was hearing. He wasn't sure what was going on with the now Dark Agent of the Empire. But, in any case, he would accommodate.
"Right... I'll have the prisoner waiting upon your arrival."
"Thank you, Admiral... I'll be returning shortly."
With that, the images faded, Prazutis holding his lower abdomen as he sat back in his chair, trying to hold down yelling out in pain.
As Prazutis returned to the citadel, he walked down the loading ramp as soon as it dropped. Without hesitation, he looked at the rebel prisoner in front of him before grabbing the man by the throat. He could feel his aura, the light glow around the prisoner... and as he grabbed him, he pulled, he grabbed... and slowly, he consumed the aura that he saw, the life force of the pathetic thing before him. He felt the power, he felt the energy... all of it transferring to his own spirit, empowering him, fueling him...
Dropping the man, he saw the pale white skin, the glazed over eyes... this was no human being any longer. He was nothing but a shell that used to hold a spirit within, now sacrificed to Prazutis' own hunger. Just as his master had done, for the first time... he consumed.
Vassyl looked on with a mix of disgust and pride at seeing this man he had given permission to the inquisitors to bring aboard, now bringing the death of the Empire's enemies while making himself stronger... it was a mix of horror, fear, pride, and enthusiasm for the potential he saw in this man.
"Welcome back... Lord Prazutis."
YOU ARE READING
Sithlore: Hunger
Science FictionWith his ties to the light cut, Prazutis sets his sights on bringing an end to the Galactic civil war. But before the Empire can divert its resources to offense against the Alliance, they must focus on uniting themselves! Crime, piracy, and corrupti...
