"The fear of loss is a path to the dark side."
- Yoda, Jedi Master
Qormus sat on the side of his bed. The anguished feelings of loneliness threatened to overwhelm him. Anger burned in him briefly. Anger at Torvan, the man who had raised him since he was 9 was dead, anger at himself for being angry with him. He felt he belonged, that he had someone who was a friend and mentor ... and master. Someone who would guide him, be a father to him in a way his own never had. Friends of his and Torvan's would call upon him, but he would not see them. The despair was swallowing him whole and he did not know how to escape its cold embrace. He was not even sure he wanted to escape it.
He took a deep breath and felt the Force flow through him. He whispered the Sith Code to himself.
"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."
It didn't help. What angered him more was that he knew what Torvan would say to him had he been there. Torvan would have told him to use these feelings as fuel for his dark side lessons and exercises. Torvan had been his master for almost 4 years and sometimes he felt that he was nowhere. He had felt his power in the dark side grow and he yearned to learn all that he could, but he also reached the occasional annoying plateau where he had to redouble his efforts in order to continue his progress. Torvan always knew how to encourage him but he could no longer.
Qormus stood from his bed, stretched and walked to the refresher to conduct his usual morning ritual. He looked in the mirror and barely recognised himself. His eyes were sunken and were shaded in black and the stubble on his face made him look unkempt. He washed his face and had a shave, instantly feeling better, he got dressed into his usual attire of shirt and trousers. Briefly looking in the mirror again, he looked much better.
He exited the room that Torvan assigned to him when he was brought to Corellia from Ord Mantell and noticed a small package sitting on the floor just in front of the door. He studied the package for a moment, kneeling down to pick it up and inspect it. There was no return address, or any sign whatsoever that the package was mailed to him via the Corellian Postal Service.
Torvan always encouraged Qormus to trust his feelings and allow them to guide his actions which is why he took the package inside his room and placed it on the bed. He sat beside it and just looked at it for what seemed like an eternity. He did not know what the package contained, but he knew it was something important. He closed his eyes, calling on the Force to calm him, to clear his mind. He was only partially successful when he opened his eyes and focused on the package resting beside him on the bed.
It was wrapped in paper which he carefully peeled away. Tossing the paper aside, he examined the box and felt his heart skip a beat. This was a Corellian Pelate, a puzzle box which appeared to be solid and only permitted the recipient to open it a certain way. Of course the box was made out of a soft wood meaning that it is easily cut open to reveal its contents, but part of the fun was to discover the almost microscopic crease that denoted the join. It worked by carefully cutting a solid box into several pieces, hollowing out a space large enough for the contents and then carefully reassembles it without the aid of an adhesive. The internal air was drawn out holding it together via negative pressure. The recipient would use various tools to discover the one avenue that will allow the pressure inside to equalize and the pieces of the box to fall away.
What excited Qormus was that Torvan had first shown him a Pelate soon after he came to live with him at the age of 9 and used them to hone his skills in problem solving and deductive reasoning. Whenever Torvan gave Qormus a present, it or the real gifts true location would invariably be buried inside a Pelate box. Qormus used to pretend that he found them boring and time consuming, but he secretly loved them. It was something special that he and Torvan had and Torvan knew how much he enjoyed them.
It was also a test of his force skills since Torvan made boxes of a far higher standard than was typical since those with force sensitivity were able to detect the near microscopic creases of a standard box. This box seemed special somehow and Qormus took a deep breath to quieten himself. He placed it back down on his bed and grabbed his Pelate kit, a small toolbox which contained items used to open the boxes. He carefully examined the box for the tell-tale crease but was unable to find it. Torvan had been steadily making the boxes harder and harder to open which he derived a perverse amount of pleasure from watching Qormus getting increasingly frustrated with its difficulty. Qormus never gave up though and would eventually find the way to open the box.
This was the hardest one he had ever seen and instinctively knew it was a test. He had to prove himself worthy for the contents of this box and he desperately wanted to show Torvan and himself that he was capable of overcoming any challenge his master gave him. He looked at the small clock next to his bed and suddenly noticed that 3 hours had gone by and he was starving. He put the box down and headed to his small kitchen to fix himself some breakfast. He sat to eat his food facing his bed, never taking his eyes of the box. He knew it was the last gift he would receive from Torvan.
Once he finished his breakfast, he cleaned up and sat in a meditative state on his bed. He sat there for several hours, quieting his thoughts and focusing, not allowing the Force to take his attention away from the task at hand. He opened his eyes and 100% focused on the box picked it up again with a vigour he had never felt before. He could see the individual fibres of the timber and within a couple of minutes had spotted the fine line down one side of the box. He grabbed his decoupling tool and slowly guided it along the crease. He heard and felt a sudden rush of wind and the box fell apart in his hands. Smiling widely he grabbed the small piece of paper tightly wound within and slowly unrolled it. On it was a single line of text:
Corellian Central Bank, Coronet City Branch, Vault AHR-336643, Box Number 3279465.
Knowing that Torvan left him something he quickly got up and rushed to get ready. He grabbed the piece of paper and ran out of the door heading to the speeder that Torvan gave him on his 18th birthday. He reminisced about that day, the day that changed his life forever. He jumped into the speeder and headed to the branch indicated on the paper. He was excited and nervous to know what he would find inside this box. A part of him, the part threatening to envelope him in sadness almost did not want to know because once it was opened, Torvan would never give him something ever again.
Qormus parked his speeder, walked in to the branch and walked to the Vault desk. He asked the droid manning the desk for box 3279465 inside of vault AHR-336643 and was dismayed when he was asked for a retinal scan to confirm his identity. Hoping that Torvan had taken care of this, he placed his face up to the scanner and was relieved when it flashed green with a pleasing affirmative series of beeps. The droid pointed Qormus to a private room where he waited for several minutes for the box to be brought in.
Qormus was getting impatient when the large metal box finally arrived. The droid placed it on to the small table in front of the seat Qormus was sitting on and gave an approximation of a nod and rolled out of the room. Qormus stared at the box for a long time. It was about 50 centimetres long, 20 centimetres wide and had a recessed lid that opened by sliding it the length of the box. Qormus considered not opening it but knew that Torvan gave him the Pelate box for a reason and he had to see it through. He grasped both ends of the box and paused slightly as he felt something emanating from the box; a feeling of darkness that he knew to be the dark side of the Force. This piqued his interest even more and he slid the lid out of the box.
He peered inside only to find a single item. It was pyramidal in shape and small, standing about 15 centimetres and able to fit reasonably comfortably in his palm. He knew immediately what it was but had never seen one before. He picked it up and examined it in more detail. He turned it over from side to side. It had the look of tarnished bronze. Letters and symbols were etched in each side but he could not decipher any of them. Each side appeared to have a different language inscribed upon it, but he was unsure.
The device felt warm to the touch and Qormus closed his eyes, allowing the dark side to flow through him. The Sith Holocron slowly rose off the palm of his hand and hovered in front of him. Torvan had told him many years before that a Holocron is a device that Force users place the body of their knowledge in. It was a tool for following generations to learn not just what the creator knew of the Force, but because the device contained an imprint of the creator, and they infused their Force essence in to it, it was almost an extension of themselves, a faint duplicate in the Force. The Holocron looked ancient but new at the same time.
Qormus opened his eyes and saw Torvan standing before him. Like a rubber band snapping back after being stretched too taut, Qormus lost his focus, Torvan's image disappeared and the holocron fell to the floor, clattering on the shiny tile floor and coming to rest. Qormus sat there for several minutes trying to regain his composure. The shock of seeing Torvan standing in front of him was a massive shock. He knew that to activate a Sith holocron, you had to direct dark side energy through it. Torvan never really said much else so Qormus did not know what to expect. He looked down at the holocron and bent down to pick it up.
He sat it on the table in front of him and took several deep breaths. He focused on the holocron again and sent a surge of dark side energy through the device. Torvan appeared before him again, standing about half his usual 1.8 meter height. Qormus and Torvan were roughly the same height in life and with Qormus sitting on the chair, they were about the same height again. He felt a stab of pain in his heart and fought to maintain control. He forced himself to calm down and focus and once he felt that his emotions were back under control, he opened his eyes with Torvan standing there smiling at him.
Torvan looked at him for a long moment before speaking, "Qormus, I created this holocron because 5 years ago I foresaw my demise and if my efforts to avoid death failed, I wanted to ensure that I left something to you so you could continue your training and to provide you with further guidance. If you are seeing this, it would appear I failed." Torvan looked slightly melancholy at the prospect of his failure and the deep sadness threatened to overwhelm Qormus again, but he maintained control.
"I only hope that this holocron can partially take my place and guide you as you continue your journey in the Dark Side of the Force." Torvan said continuing, "I have put all my knowledge into it and when the device thinks you are ready, it will tell you the location of my hidden Sith Library. This contains several other holocrons from other Sith Lords as well as ancient texts and other artefacts that I hope you will study and learn from." Torvan's face became serious, "Qormus, I expect you to follow in my footsteps and become a Dark Lord of the Sith. Because I was not able to complete your training, I have placed the continuing legacy of the Sith in grave jeopardy. If you do not become a Dark Lord and train your own apprentice, then the line of the Sith could end."
This weighed heavily on Qormus, but hearing it again from Torvan gave him a deep and dark fire to not fail his master. He said as much to the holocron and Torvan smiled, "I know you won't fail me Qormus. Ever since I found you on Ord Mantell, I could feel your power and knew that because you had no family, I could raise you to be the perfect Sith. I carefully guided you until your 18th birthday when I initiated you into the ways of the Sith and we have worked hard on your training ever since. But you still have a long way to go."
Qormus nodded, "Yes, master. I want to follow in your foot steps and become a Sith Lord."
Torvan asked, "Why, Qormus? Is it because I want you to?"
Qormus shook his head, "Not entirely, master, no. But I would be lying if I said that it had nothing to do with it. When you found me, I knew that I could make people do what I wanted. It was a small sense of control in a galaxy that seemed intent of devoiding me of it. Yes, I want to become a Sith Lord because you want me to, because you chose me. You found me and saved me from a life of mediocrity on Ord Mantell. But it is more than that. You taught me the power of the Dark Side. You taught me to value strength and power, to use my emotions as a fuel source in our attempts to undermine the Jedi false believers and to further our own knowledge of the Force. And you showed me the power of the Dark Side when you gave me the life of the man who abandoned me many years before and then took great pleasure as I slowly killed him for what he did to me." His eyes glowed with the hatred that burned within him and he stared at the image of Torvan with the intensity of a man who honestly believed what he just said.
Torvan nodded, "That is good Qormus. Hatred will make you powerful. Learn to harness it and no one will be able to stop you. We are ready to begin."